So much for inspiring metaphors

It died. It finally died.

About a month or so ago ( I don’t remember exactly how long because the time goes by in such a way that large amounts become hard to quantify) a cocoon formed on the side of our garage. Helpless it sat just inches away from a large spider web and it’s equally large owner just around the corner.

But weeks went by and it seemed that the cocoon had outlasted the spider because the spider was nowhere to be found but that feeble cocoon remained.

I could have killed the spider to protect the cocoon but nature took its course and our fragile friend won out.

More time passed and the cocoon remained. It got cold. The cocoon remained. It became too cold for too long, I thought, for a cocoon to survive. It’s dead, I knew it was dead. I couldn’t let such an interesting artifact go to waste. I’ll pop it off this wall and keep it somewhere I thought for a second.

But then there was a large part of me that wished it was still alive but there was a small part of me that thought it still was.

So I left it.

More time. More cold. No signs of life.

Then one day I came home to find the cocoon on the ground below where it usually hung. As I approached I thought: It’s dead now, I know its dead now.

When I examined it more closely the cocoon was half open and I could see the head of the butterfly and just a small fleck of the orange wing.

As I went to pick it up to get a closer look, it moved. Still alive? Imposable, but true. Nature had taken its course and the butterfly had survived until now. All that was left was for it to struggle out of its cocoon and fly away.

The days only got colder.

Each day I would kneel down to see the struggle continue.

Its life was inspiring. It was one of those lessons that God would figure everything else and that nature takes it course. I never interfered, although I often wanted to.

Today it is dead.


Adam