ENTOMBED IN A PINK FLOWER
FINDING THE EXTRAORDINARY IN AN ORDINARY EVENING
On August 16, 2026, at 6:10 AM, words, but not thoughts of my identity, previously hidden, became available to be written. I am a writer who writes about ordinary things because I am ordinary. I pay attention to ordinary things by immersing myself in ordinary life. I resonate with the words of Mies Van der Rohe “God hides in the details,” and the idiom “The devil is in the details.” Details are important.
I spend a lot of time searching for details that inform and expand the way I experience my ordinary life. It is very easy to recognize the Creator’s extraordinary handiwork when witnessing or hearing about something like an eclipse. It takes an open mind and a heart of intentional observation to find the extraordinary in the ordinary. If I and you are not foraging our ho-hum daily life looking for sustenance to sustain and add zest to it, we are subject to find ourselves in a rut. From the lens of the rut, we can be easily lulled into believing that most people live fairytale-like lives when ours isn’t.
Every day I discover that the ordinary has as much texture and as many intricacies as the extraordinary. I seek the insight of the ordinary. On this August evening, the insight came while I was doing one of the most ordinary things I do.
The sun was setting; dusk was just around the corner. I was doing an ordinary thing; watering plants, planted in the coolness of spring, in the deathly heat of mid-August. In a pale pink bloom, I spied a beautiful butterfly “resting,” wings folded above its back. The ordinary me wondered how the butterfly got its name. The curious and cautious me wondered if I could get close enough for a good photo of the pollinator. I inched closer. It didn’t move. Extending my finger, I gently touched the wings. No movement. The Pipevine Swallowtail, head nestled into the bloom, had found its final resting place. I left it just as I found it. The next morning, my husband discovered it, too. My imagination conjured up a tale of the butterfly becoming overheated, of not having enough moisture stored in its exoskeleton to survive its hunt for nectar and a place to lay its eggs.
Nature is my creative sanctuary, and the details of nature often produce something extraordinary (my opinion) to share with you. Butterflies can live up to ten months. It might still be alive had it taken more time to hydrate. Memo to you; be available for self-care. When you find what you need, pay attention to the level of engagement exerted in its pursuit. The butterfly might still be fluttering had it not got stuck in consuming what it wanted under conditions that were unfavorable. All of this is the imagination of an ordinary woman doing an ordinary thing whose attention was captured by an extraordinary detail.
CONSIDER THIS ---Intentional attention to the ordinary is a foolproof way to turn it into extraordinary. Have you ever seen a dead butterfly entombed in a pink flower?
Beautiful