This morning when I opened the front door, there was an orange butterfly resting on the sun-warmed glass of the storm door, as if waiting to greet me, and usher me into the day.

I thought about snapping its picture, but when I went to get the camera, and then returned, it had disappeared. I imagine it found a flower, then spiralled in front of a dogs nose, teasing, but remaining out of reach, and then possibly alighting in a small child’s hair.

It made me remember our trip to see the butterfly exhibit several weeks ago – outside, it was cold and windy. Inside it was hot, and rainforest-humid, and the two-story room was filled with plants and streams and free-flying butterflies.

This one (actually a moth) was resting on a leaf, just around the final turn, just above my eye-level. Fuzzy snapped the picture. In real life, it had a wingspan of five or six inches.

Click picture for larger image.