AT ARM'S LENGTH

Shiny things. That's what crows usually give humans they consider friends. But apparently, several of my feathered friends in Iwatsuki saw me helping insects in distress and thought I'd like bugs more than most normal people. One day, I noticed they brought me a milky white ermine moth, probably traumatized from having been transported there between the beaks of its captor.

But another "insect" gift given me was a sparkly butterfly bookmark, not from the crows, but from my sister Janice. She had actually bought a craft set and made it for me, so there's only one butterfly like this in the world. I use it to keep my place in my daily journal, so I see it every morning. Yup, this butterfly sees the cold winter season too, unlike his living cousin. Oh--here's a photo of a little feller up in Iwatsuki. It frustrates me no end that the real thing is much prettier than what I can get with the camera, but even the photo is better than the computer image!

It was that same species butterfly I saw outside the hotel last year. I'd asked it to show me its wings on the inside because I knew they were so pretty, and it stayed still, then we could see it was straining to open them up for us. See what it looks like? There were no butterflies this year. Besides, my camera ran out of juice. But on the bridge, a teeny tiny spider came scurrying up to us. Outdoors and garden spiders are so pretty, I said to the spider, and got a pic with my old flip phone.

I think it liked me. After a little while, it jumped towards me, but because it's so little, its thread was too short and yanked it back. I wasn't exactly disappointed that it didn't make the leap, since my automatic reflex would've been to brush it off anyway. I like spiders and snakes, but only at arm's distance. Maybe God loves unconditionally, but I can only like them conditionally. I jump if they get too close.

I don't understand how that happened, because I still remember my sisters and I used to catch the termites in the woodwork of our first house--catch them and pluck off their wings. And don't we look like sweet little angels? We had everybody fooled!