Not that everything needs to have a purpose (if that were so it would certainly call my existence into question), but why, exactly, are there butterflies?

They are certainly lovely to look at as they glide along, flapping their wings and dancing circles in the air. They may be on their way to somewhere, despite all appearances, though who knows where. Man has marveled at the butterfly for probably as long as they have noticed each other.

Several years ago, I spent some time in Papua New Guinea with a zoological expedition. Zoological expedition sounds so much better than “a bunch of guys in the jungle trying to catch birds.” The leader of the motley crew was absolutely enthralled by butterflies. And he still is, veritably lusting after them. With net in hand he chased after many of them, as they looped and flitted always out of his reach. I don’t think he caught anything but air in that entire trip. And of course it begs the question that, like a dog chasing a car, would he have known what to do with his prize had he caught it.

But it was from him that I learned that wearing bright colors might attract a butterfly to you—a much less aerobic endeavor than going about it the other way around. And while I have never been sure that it was true, something remarkable happened in the back yard just the other day – thousands of miles and dozens of years removed from Papua New Guinea.

As I sat outside drinking a cup of coffee, I watched a butterfly overhead as it made its pointless journey from nowhere to nowhere in particular. And then it came by and lighted on the table just next to my chair. I can only imagine that she looked at me and blinked the way that I looked at her and blinked, astonished to be so close and yet knowing that it was entirely beyond my ability to have such a creature.

I have seen pictures, of course, and admired them from afar, but now I sat enchanted, seeing her up close and alive for the first time in my life. So close in fact that I could see a tattoo of a stripper on her thigh.