Metamorphosis Revisited

Hard to believe that from a dried up old shell hanging in a landscape of moldy milkweed...


...a creature this delicate and beautiful emerged.


Fifteen days ago, it looked like this:


Same creature, different body. Or same body, different creature?



Zen thinking would say it is neither one, nor the other, but both at the same time. Or perhaps not. Perhaps it would just say I am putting too much thought into it. Or too little thought. Or that thoughts cannot be too little or too large, but are both at once.

I may be confused, but I doubt this little butterfly is. Its instincts are telling it it needs to be somewhere else and soon it will be on it way south. I wonder if it is terribly freeing to have your destination mapped out in your genes.

When you think about it that way, it is no coincidence destiny and destination have the same root word. Tomorrow, I will travel south too. West Virginia is the destination of the moment, but certainly not the destiny. Or maybe it is destiny of the moment, but not the destination? Or maybe I am just thinking too much again.