I was sitting in my grandfather's chair, a daughter curled in my lap. She was watching a video with her sisters and had asked me to join them. As Eloise scampered around the screen, I glanced out the window and saw that the butterfly bush was in full bloom. Great sprays of purple flowers swayed and danced in the breeze.
Then I saw the butterflies. One, Two and Three were on the bush, sipping at nectar; Four and Five circled each other in a great lazy spiral upwards; and Six flitted in and out of my field of vision. One and Two drifted up and swapped places and Six had a rest on a leaf. Four and Five descended again and paused for refreshment. Three floated over the fence and, finding nothing but a line of carports, soon ducked back to a cluster of flowers.
'Look!' I said to the girls, 'look! Butterflies!' and all three turned and stood to get a better view. Butterflies darted past, butterflies rested on flowers, butterflies drifted over the fence. The moving picture on the small screen trundled on, unnoticed, while we gazed at the living moving picture framed by the lounge room window.
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