Yesterday, my husband and I went on an impromptu hike up in the mountains. We came across a flock of monarch butterflies and one species I wasn’t familiar with, a kind of tiger butterfly in tawny spotted golds and browns. It was a shy butterfly and kept its distance, unlike the others that fed on flowers without a care for our presence. This shy one fluttered farther away as I approached until it disappeared and didn’t come back. I regretted disturbing her meal.
I was glad to be wearing my new, sturdy hiking boots on this rocky and sometimes muddy trail. We climbed to the top, and as we descended, we met a family of three, a mother, father, and a young boy climbing up the way we had just come. I noticed the father and mother were wearing flip-flops. At least the boy had on sneakers. I almost exclaimed aloud — you’re hiking in sandals? But I didn’t, thank goodness. My better angels stopped my tongue. As the family passed and I held my tongue, I thanked my wisdom in keeping my thoughts to myself. Instead, I prayed that none of them suffered a twisted ankle or stubbed toe and experienced nothing other than very dirty if perhaps sore feet at the end of the trail.
In the past, I would have said something, having not yet learned my manners. I am grateful for lessons learned. I am thankful I can mind my own business these days.
And I’m still sorry I scared away that butterfly.
