One day you wash up on the beach, wet and naked. Another day you wash back out. In between, the scenery changes constantly.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Yesterday evening, Georgia called me to say there had been a butterfly on a pair of beach shoes I had sitting outside to dry off, and she didn't recognize it. It had flown off, but when I checked later it was back. A moderately beat up specimen of Red Spotted Purple, puddling on the wet shoes.