In my sister's garden

God and I have our issues, but he certainly does make some very, very beautiful things, doesn't he? My sister caught this Monarch butterfly dancing around her garden last week and was able to snap some great shots of it while it took a little rest on one of her cone flowers.



Monarchs remind us of our Grandmother who passed away 16 years ago. The cottage she and my Grandfather had on a beautiful little lake in Ontario's Muskoka region was home to hundreds of migrating Monarchs each summer. They were always floating by the shoreline and fluttering through the leaves of the white birch trees that my Grandma loved so much.

They look like little stained glass windows that have broken free from their lead frames, and they have the same kind of light and magic that my Grandma did. Her spirit was every bit as lovely as a Monarch's delicate wings.

Whenever we see them now, we always think of her and imagine that she's sending us a message to let us that she's always close. Gone, but never far away.

Just beyond the veil.

I thought about having a Monarch release ceremony for Thomas once upon a time. My Beloved and I were at a flower show (yes, it was my idea) and there was a man there who raises and sells Monarchs for just such purposes. I loved the idea, but it was too soon after Thomas' death for me to seriously entertain the notion.

Plus I figured my family - including My Beloved - would think I was insane.

But since it still seems like a really beautiful thing to do (not insane at all, as a matter of fact), I might just arrange to do a release next spring.

I know my Grandma, floating just out of sight, will love it too.