As the leaves are still dropping from trees, I realize the creative architecture of the birds and their “summer stays,” which are revealed-the basketlike robins’ nest, the tightly woven finch nest and the haphazard nest of the osprey. So much like the past, the empty nest tells a story like an archeological find.  National Geographic would have a headline reading – “A hard-working culture of savvy industrialist with all the right elements of determination, strength and a will to succeed and survive”. And I smile to myself, realizing so much of life can be discovered in the smallest of things and the tiniest of creatures. The secret of life could be compared to the secret structures hidden in the trees.

 As I exam my back yard and recognize that it is time to set out my feeders for the rest of us that decide to stiff it out, I see the most magical of all winged things, an impressive lone Monarch butterfly. He lands slowly; opening and closing his wings to dry off the morning dew on this exceptionally mild winter day. Does he know he is way off track? Will he ever make his journey home to a warmer sun?  Where is home anyway? I have heard the Sierra Madre Mountains or maybe Mexico or are the Sierra Madre Mountains in Mexico? Hmm, note to self, find out where the Sierra Madre Mountains are located. At this moment I realize how ignorance is born. If we don’t find out the answers, we will never know of the flight patterns in life. I am ignorant to the flight of the Monarch, but stubborn to find out the answers.

 The Monarch butterfly is known to a scientist as Danaus plexippus, which in Greek literally means “sleepy transformation,” or the ability to hibernate and metamorphise. An inspiring thought on this day when the experience of life is telling me at any given moment it will be a lot colder, we should be inside hibernating and like the mighty Monarch we will have our day in the sun again, soon. Today this analogy is unexpected to me; it is all about the cycle of life, and like the butterfly, our cycle of life is not that much different. We start as an egg, molt into a caterpillar, build a chrysalis around ourselves and aspire to become a beautiful butterfly with full dress code and regalia. And towards the end, we measure our lives by one transient moment of a quiet determination.

 Like all creatures big and small I want to save him from the cold harsh realities of the world. My silent Monarch friend flutters around me floating soundlessly like confetti in a ticker tape parade. I want to free him, before the cat sees him and the cycle of life starts all over again in the secrets hidden in the trees.