grace notes

Life often offers us moments of joy. Free for the taking.

And if we are not humble enough to wait for them, we never know they were there.

Yesterday while I was picking up the detritus from the vines that add a bit of life to the patio, I glanced up and saw a giant swallowtail butterfly land on the screen door to my library. Butterflies are flighty creatures.

I wanted to dash into the bedroom and retrieve my good camera. But that would have meant sacrificing the moment for the possibility of photographing an empty screen door while the butterfly headed off to do a bit of pollinating.

So, I simply stood there. Admiring a rather tattered version of North America's largest butterfly. Anyone who has ever held a butterfly in his hand marvels at how fragile they are. It is no wonder part of its eponymous tail is missing. Probably munched by an over-eager gecko prowling in the night.

It was then that I noticed the painting of Professor Jiggs in the background. Jiggs was a big part of my life for 13 years. When he died during my first year in Villa Obregon, my artist friend Cor presented me with the portrait as a way to remember him.

Like everything we have experienced in life, old memories tend to get pushed to the rear of the closet. It was almost as if the butterfly had brought me a message. "Yes, I am beautiful, and thank you for noticing. But life is more than moments. It is also memories and dreams. And they all make you who you are."

Of course, the butterfly said no such thing. All of that was conjured up by the rather exotic counterpoint of my visitor and my old companion. And I was glad I looked up from my chores to enjoy the gift that nature gave me.

When Jiggs died in bed next to me, I was listening to Beth Nielsen Chapman's "Sand and Water." I didn't realize at the time how much that song has stuck with me until my encounter with the butterfly yesterday.

But it has. I cannot share any more of Jiggs's life with you. But I can share a song. And isn't that what friends are for? To sit upon the ground and tell tales of dead kings -- and to share a song.