Butterfly Garden at my Local Library

Written August 5th, 2023

The hum of nearby highways, distant enough to be muted, accompanied by the buzz of bugs and birdcall surrounds me.

The concrete step I sit on is rigid, its powerwashed bleakness contrasting with the overgrown garden we sit next to. A few flowers bloom in hopes of butterflies, but only we are here to appreciate them. I wonder how long it has been since their last intentional visitor.

Two basins of ceramic and stone hold murky water, filled with debris and leaves.

When she said the garden was small, I found it a funny introduction. To the lizards and flies, it is a forest; rather a jungle. A glimmer of eden, unkempt and wild, with giants occsasionally maintaining it how they please.

But we are nature just the same, and nature will grow back and grow better. I wish to grow with it.