I love sitting on my patio. So many things happen in my tiny urban backyard. There’s a rabbit (or a series of bunnies) who has visited for years. The variety of birds is astounding. I love when I catch a glimpse of cardinals. Of course there is a contingent of squirrels. One of my neighbors leaves peanuts out for them. I find peanut shells on my sidewalk, half-buried in the tomato pot, and littering the basil.
I have parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme (if you’re of a certain age, I’ll bet you sang along with that), basil. spearmint, peppermint, chives, lemon balm, and oregano. The wisteria and iris have bloomed and gone, as has the azalea and peonies, but the daylilies are waiting to burst into blossom.
One of the things I love to watch are the butterflies. Once in a while, I will see a monarch flitting around, but mostly I have white-winged butterflies. They have a small black dot on their wings. They may be cabbage butterflies. I usually see two, but sometimes there are more. They return year after year, although I’m sure they are not the same ones. Maybe I have generations.
Here’s the thing. They flutter around and interact with each other. The poet in me sometimes views their movements as dancing. The cynic, however, wonders if they are not in fact battling each other.
