Butterflies

I don’t know what strange magic lurks in Pittsburgh’s grassy underbelly to foment such a marvelous collection of winged creatures, but I am ever so glad. A few fireflies remain, their little flashes the tiniest of paparazzi. A chorus of locusts, or maybe cicadas?, are singing their wild song, the bees are busy, and oh, the butterflies! So very many, everywhere. The first three are flitting about our yard, and that last one, orange and gorgeous, I spied in the Oakland neighborhood of Pittsburgh. Huzzah!