It was a downpour at high noon. It was raining so hard that I needed to pull my car into a parking lot to wait out the gale, glad I had brought a book along.
I always bring a book with me. Who knows when you’ll be stuck in the car in a downpour, a snowstorm, waiting for two freight trains to pass, picking up someone who is delayed? One must always have a back-up plan. Mine is a book – and a chocolate bar.
I digress. Again.
Home again, I put this and that away, checked phone messages and then went out to check our little acreage. The downside of so many tall grasses and prairie plants is that they can look mighty forlorn after a storm. To survive, they must be able to bend in a heavy wind or hard rain. Lessons we learn from plants, are they not? We all need to bend at times, lest we break.
I tossed some vegetable peelings and a wilted bouquet of flowers into the half-hazaard compost pile, set the bowl down and went to straighten some grasses. Just as I reached out to pull a mass of sagging stems, something caught my eye. It was hanging by a thread. It was something I’ve been waiting for all summer long.
A Monarch butterfly chrysalis.
Still raining, still hanging by a thread – and I am still monitoring my Monarch.