Life Cycles By

The heavens declare His glory with the sunshine on this October day as we walk along the path by the slough, passing golden leaves and red berries against a sky of robin egg blue; people passing on roller blades and bicycles. Ah look! a wooly bear waddling in his fur coat across the path, heading to the grass, getting ready to change from caterpillar glory to moth glory; death and resurrection; metamorphosis. Like my mother liked to sing, "I'll fly away someday."

 Look there’s another one and another and another.  It’s a caterpillar crossing, a mighty migration. I kneel to pet one’s black and brown bristles; to praise his cuteness. Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling. Passing on the right! Oh. That one didn’t make it. That one either. Nor that one. I take a long look down the dotted asphalt river. My metaphors of comfort crushed.