The Butterflies in my Garden

I like  plants, flowers and a bit of greenery in my immediate surroundings. Thus, I decided that I must have my own personal green space in the terraces of my flat. It took me several months to realize that I am not blessed with what is called a green thumb.

Some plants did survive my ministrations. The lemon grass and hibiscus held their own, and the balsam came back from the brink. But the calendula plant   refuses to bloom and the flowering rosy milkweed vine is often given to sulking. It has a temperament that would shame a pampered movie celebrity. Hardly garden-of-Eden stuff, one might say.

Encouragement came by way of a pair of butterflies. They arrived one afternoon and perched on a hibiscus leaf. They were small and, but for the colours that were in startling contrast to the green of the leaf, could have been easily missed. They remained there for a few hours. Then, when my attention was drawn by an unavoidable chore, they were gone.

Look at the symmetry of design and colour. At a distance, they looked like one

It was only when I got closer that I found that there were two of them!

It is not easy to describe what went through my mind at that time. Suffice it to mention that I redoubled my efforts since that day. Tending to the plants is now an indispensable part of my morning constitutional. The appearance of a new leaf is a sign of hope; a bud presages  something to look forward to and the- as yet occasional- bloom, reason to rejoice.

There is hope for me, yet