We were standing at the corner of the street, waiting for Jedi’s yellow carriage to emerge. I had gotten us there early, because I wanted to make sure we arrived in time to see him home. I now know that I didn’t need to worry, as his bus wouldn’t come for another 30 minutes.
To pass the minutes by, and to give my sweating hand a rest, I told Buzz to sit. Take a break. Play in the overgrown grass. He found a stick and began raking through the bug-laden yard in need of mowing. Around us, butterflies continued to flutter. That’s when I bent down and saw a swarm of them, basking in the summer sun, scaling tall blades of swaying green.
Caterpillars. Black and white, in varying sizes. There had to be at least 6 in that immediate patch of grass.
“Look Buzz! Caterpillars!”, I showed him.
“Caterpillars”, he repeated softly, concentrating on the new find.
“Caterpillars turn into butterflies”, I informed studiously, as one danced above our head and another at our feet.
We spent the next few minutes poking gently at the caterpillars, watching as they spread their elongated bodies against the picturesque blue skies, ready and waiting for the day when they develop their wings. Small changes at first, but then it happens so quick.
Soon after, the bus pulled up, carrying my oldest son. My once helplessly dependent baby, who’s also shedding his cocoon, morphing into a glorious butterfly.