Friday, September 16, 2016

Behold, The Butterfly Cometh . . .

First came the Wasp, who settled irritably on a leaf near the colorful crimson bloom. Jumpy, and with many a 'zzzt' of its wings it flitted first to one leaf and then the other, crawling over some, and under others even if it is hard to understand how insects manage this feat. Finding nothing of interest anywhere there, the Wasp flew away, zig-zagging in the air with the appearance of searching for trouble somewhere, as it might seem to an observer.
Then, along came the Moth which alighted clumsily near the bright crimson blossom, staggering a little as it clung on. Fluttering her wings and uncurling her antennae, she searched for a mate, turning in ovoid 360-degree circles several times. Finding none, the Moth too worked her wings once again and erratically fluttered away.
Next, a tiny and busy Ant climbed up the long stalk, taking many minutes to make the journey, Although it seemed purposeful in its climb, the Ant paused many times to wave its front legs and antennae ahead of its path it as if deciding to move on. The tiny Ant paused once again as it reached the bright flower with its different texture. The Ant stood there for many seconds, waving it's forelegs, with its tiny antennae waving to and fro sensing the surroundings, the Ant then crawled fitfully and cautiously across the outer parts of the bloom, seeking food most likely. Finding none to it's liking, the Ant too, wandered away and back down the stalk, in its purposeful yet erratic way.
The bloom, in all its radiant color, waited patiently as it was visited by first one, then another of a variety of small living things, creatures seeking that which the bloom apparently did not possess for them. The brilliant bloom waved slightly in the breeze like an insistent signal lamp attracting them all towards its glow. A grasshopper came, as did a tiny slug. Then an inchworm, then a tiny lizard, and even a regal Praying Mantis. But, none, apparently, found that which they sought. To be fair, the inchworm did find a bit of sustenance, but on lower leaves away from the bloom itself. Each creature did a diligent search in accordance with its own genetics and needs, and each sooner or later departed for more promising prospecting.
'Alas', mourned the bloom to itself in its awareness - for flowers are perceptive entities of course, 'will I exist for naught? Will not my destiny be fulfilled? Will I wither and blow away on the wind, unsuccored, dried up and browned, undesired and unachieved?'
'Will my beautiful, colorful flower be in vain and must I remain unsatiated, unsatisfied, unable to pass my beauty along to another generation?' The despondent bloom almost furled her gorgeous panoply of color then, and succumbed to her despair, so late in the day as it was. But no, she would hold out at least until the end of this day. But, it was very late in the day and very late in the season.
Then miraculously almost, in the waning of the last of the light of day, a gorgeously beautiful butterfly appeared, elegantly colorful, with iridescent hues reflecting the final rays of sun like tiny diamonds in the failing light. Flitting seemingly aimlessly about, the butterfly touched this leaf and that, itself nearly exhausted from the day's labors, seeking that last, that final bit of color for the day. The bloom did not see the butterfly, for of course flowers do not possess the organs for sight. But the bloom did sense the butterfly's hovering presence just as it had for all its previous visitors, and  although the bloom had no way of discerning if any were the precise sort of visitor the bloom so passionately yearned for.
Pausing at the apogee of its final loop for the day, the butterfly sensed the brilliant crimson flower too, for butterflies do have the organs for sight and in fact, many thousands of them in their many faceted eye organs, "ommatidia" as scientists term them.  The butterfly swooped, for it too sensed fulfillment, and directly to the flower it flew, alighting gracefully near the bloom itself. Daintily, almost like a ballet dancer the butterfly stepped into the bloom and slowly unfurled its elegant proboscis. This the butterfly then began to insert carefully into the flower's interior, the working parts of the bloom, seeking fulfillment for itself.
Snap! The brilliant crimson flower reacted, quickly closing her barred cilia which somewhat resembled the iron bars of a jail cell. The trapped butterfly fluttered its wings as it struggled to escape, but the more it struggled, the tighter the flower's grip became until at last the bloom was completely sealed shut and the butterfly lay still in the flower's bosom. 
Finally satisfied and engorged with the beautiful butterfly, her carpel dusted with the pollen carried by that handsome beauty, the Venus bloom settled down to digest her meal in calmness and peace, fulfilled at last. 

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