A Part of [A Butterfly Beat]

Today I sat in the backyard of Indigo to embroider. I sat my little chair next to this huge bush-type-thing that the butterflies liked to swirl around. At first I felt like an intruder. I would embroider a little bit, then watch them. Embroider. Watch. Sit. Embroider. Sit. Watch. Stare. Sit. Embroider. What little legs they have!

They were all doing their own thing. So was I. Then I started to feel like I was blending in, like I was a part of this picture. I started to see this scene as a show - stage left yellow butterfly - stage right striped butterfly - ok now swirl around each other - go! ...

I started to see a rhythm. An inconsistent rhythm. A silent beat. A beat that made no sense, but made so much sense at the same time. And me sitting in my little chair. I was part of this stage. I certainly wasn't the main character, nor was I the audience. But I was a part of. I was a part of this little scene. Me and my little chair, in the backyard.