I arrived home from the foothills of eastern Pennsylvania stretched and worn. Bettered but battered after a long weekend celebrating my cousin’s pending nuptials. A good yet exhaustive time was had by all.
Leaving the cousin’s shiny new F-150 my mind clung to the imminent hopes of a hot shower and a nap—here it is, victory. Or so I thought. Immediately out the truck I noticed 1) my sedum have finally blossomed, and 2) a butterfly had finally come to rest on one my flowers. I’d seriously been waiting all season for this.
With the shower and nap plan on hiatus I grabbed my gear and tried to get a capture. I only got off two shots before this common butterfly was scared away for good—my approach wasn’t exactly one of stealth—and neither of which were from a frontal perspective. Even still I connect with the story this image tells. One of time. The never ending story of the inescapable passage of all things. And somewhere out there is the future we can’t quite see.