Sitting with Mom looking at the Hudson River just there (it's so close!), we talk about the things we see. Sailboats, barges and their tugs, jet ski's today, fancy yachts, Coast Guard cruisers, kayaks. Right now at the end of the day, the water has a silvery sparkle on one riverwide patch, moving with the current like the flicker of fast-moving fish. All the light is leaving the sky, poured onto that slim reaching piece of water. A sailboat cuts through the silver on its way north.
We can't see it, but the train stops and leaves Hastings. First you hear the train chattering toward the station, then the long squealing stop, the measured rest and the humming lurch and pop as it goes on again toward the city. The library lights are on, the flat glass box twinkling through the darkening trees.
Straight ahead in the streaking, dusky sky, there are hawks, helicopters, finches, gliders, crows, a blimp and a determined, inquisitive bumblebee that comes all the way up to see us on the sixth floor. No butterflies yet. Is it too early in the year?
You can make your own butterfly. Tear two butterfly shapes from old book pages and stitch a seam down the center. Leave the thread tails long enough to suggest antennae. Lift the top piece, folding up the wings gently at the seams.
Enjoy the weekend. xoC
Wednesday update: add the yellow swallowtail butterfly on Sunday, the blue heron in flight on Monday and red-headed woodpecker on the sycamore Tuesday.