Butterfly Grove 09

I'll never forget stopping at the entrance of Butterfly Grove this year soon after my Birthday in April. Rodney had put up the swing in my absence and I just stood there breathing in the invitation to fellowship that an empty park bench always gives me. I was there with my sister Melissa and I feasted my eyes and heart, reveling in its beauty.

Rod and I have this thing about me being a month older then he is. I always tease him that I'm boss until he catches up with me, so I have the pants on from April to June and have the privilege of having my requests granted for a while. This year I asked him to please have the swing ready for my birthday, and it was so.

I have the sweetest memories of that place to count thanks to Rodney and his kindness. The first of them being the time when the three apple trees at the center of the grove began blooming in the spring. I remember sitting there listening to the oodles of bees buzzing in the bright sunlight. Then a week later watching as the petals fell much like snowflakes softly to the ground.

Those few weeks that Melissa was here, also in the spring, she got me all interested in the many kinds of birds she found back there. Chickadees, Song Sparrows, Red Wings, just to name a few of the more common ones. We would sit with the binoculars and chat.

After the garden was full of plants, generously given to me by Susie the gardener and her daughter, there were the night sights. June brings the most beautiful lightning bug show you could possibly wish for. Rodney and I would sit on the swing and watch them come and go on moonlit nights.

Having the pleasure to bring Dora back there was one of the highlights of the year as well. We both brought an instrument along and let that music lift us. We climbed the huge old oak tree with it's reaching branches, and caught up on the last 15 years.

Now being fall, there is something very special to me there that I haven't ever seen before - a squirrel. He scurries and scampers to grab some of the apples that are covering the ground right under the swing. You sit there and hear a "plop" ever so often as the apples fall, but the squirrel has the tree branches loaded with half eaten ones. He chirps and fusses and seems busy as anyone at harvest time, it is a delight to watch.

I'm also very pleased that the Winghammers have taken a shine to the place. There is always someone there and it has been suggested that we should have a guest book to sign there, or find and way for people to book it. This is music to my ears as that is what it is intended for.