I opened my window this morning when I got up, letting the day into the room. It was still a bit early and quiet, and I stuck my head out to get a deep breath of the morning and the flowers.
The scent of the flowers was intoxicating, almost overwhelming. There were thousands of blooms open this morning, all colors and shapes and scents. I caught a whiff of my favorite, lilac, and a hint of roses. And the butterflies! Every flower had its own butterfly in attendance this morning. They flitted from flower to flower, changing places with each other ceaselessly. It was like putting my eyes to a living kaleidoscope.
A small breeze sprang up, and rustled its way around the garden. The butterflies followed in its wake. It swirled to the center of the garden and all of the butterflies fluttered around, coalescing into a shape that changed as I watched. Slowly, the form of a man was made, covered in butterflies. Blue ones were where his pants were, and yellow ones rested in place of his shirt. Tiny ones milled about, covering the rest of him in shifting colors.
He raised his head and looked at me, smiling.
“Who are you?” I asked, surprised.
“No one special,” he replied, still smiling.
“Where did you come from? The butterflies…” I was still trying to be logical.
“I am feeding the butterflies,” he said.
“I thought they ate nectar from the flowers,” I said.
He shrugged and smiled again. “Oh, do you think so? Maybe you’re right. But I am feeding them.” He tilted his head back to the sky and spread out his arms, slowly turning in a circle. The butterflies still rested all over him, their wings moving slightly.
He completed his circle, smiled again, and winked at me. Then the butterflies began to flutter off and in seconds, all there was left was a large cloud of butterflies where the man had been. The small breeze puffed past me, and I smelled all sorts of flowers again. I thought I heard a voice laugh and say, “Goodbye.”
