I was playing tennis on a cool spring afternoon when little girl strolled up the sidewalk, dismounted her bike, and began ritually examining each flower growing along the fenced tennis courts. I was captivated. She carefully navigated each bush, bent her helmeted head close, and drew in the aroma of flower after flower. It was as though each flower of the same kind had a distinctly different scent from its neighbor. There were wars being fought somewhere else in the world, numerous horrors to mourn, but this little girl in her pretty spring dress and bicycle helmet made sure that the flowers were not neglected.

Later I noticed a little boy standing with his face pressed against the chain link fence, eyes following every bounce of the tennis ball, every swing of our rackets. He then walked slowly past the same flower bushes and was soon inside the gate watching my friend and I play tennis. We were imminently interesting until he was distracted by the careless flutter of a Monarch butterfly dancing through the light breeze. He immediately gave chase!

Bouncing all the way, arms extended, the boy followed the butterfly outside the gate until it settled on a nearby bloom. More >