The Butterfly

Walking along the beach one night at sunset, while the waves crashed into shore lapping at my feet, the sun slowly sunk to the horizon, casting an orange glow on the sand and surrounding bushland which cast its shadows on the sand like like arms stretching out and reaching for something unattainable.

And it was in this glow that my attention was called to the beautiful and tragic site that lay at my feet, stretching for as far as my eyes could see. Covering the sand for miles, hundreds of butterflies, white and black or green with small spots of yellow lay lifeless on the sand. Butterfly after butterfly was crushed or drowned and lay at my feet. It was both the most beautiful and the saddest sight I had ever witnessed and I was the only one, for the beach was completely empty but for me and the lifeless forms at my feet. They were all beautiful in their own right and yet still imperfect, for not a single one was whole or unharmed. On their sides and backs they lay with broken or torn wings, some in pools of water left by the merciless tide, some half buried by the sand; but none of them whole. All except one which I had not noticed despite it being the most beautiful creature on the sand. Pure white with no other colour at all on its wings, it was the only whole butterfly there. Its wings were together and it stood upright in the sand as though placed there by loving hands. Some how it had withstood the winds and the sands and the footsteps to remain whole and pure while the rest perished and crumbled.

This one pure white creature lying amongst the coloured but broken butterflies brought tears to my eyes. In that moment my heart was filled with sorrow for the beautiful creature lying at my feet, completely still as the tide began to rise. They drew closer and closer and I knew they eventually wash the butterfly away. My eyes cried at the thought of the beautiful butterfly being covered by the water and swept away into the ocean where it would be torn to pieces by the tumbling waves.

The waves drew closer and I let my tears fall free as I waited for the inevitable moment when the water would finally touch the butterfly’s wings and sweep it away. I watched as though in slow motion as a wave broke onto the shore and crept towards the butterfly to take it away. But when the water finally reached it's destination and like a feather touched the butterflies wings, it rose as though from a sleep, stretched it's wings once, then twice before rising into the air to fly above my head, and for just a moment it rested on my shoulder before flying away above the waves, leaving me in awe that this butterfly which I had thought to be dead could come to life so beautifully.

As darkness descended I made my way back along the beach, careful not to damage the butterflies at my feet. As I walked I felt the burdens of sorrow lift as the butterfly danced in my head as a sign of hope, telling me to make the most of life and not to end up like the crushed and torn life forms on the sand, but instead to be strong and withstand everything life throws at me so that one day I too can rise like the butterfly and fly into the horizon.