My computer was down, unhooked, transported to the shop and examined from one file to the next and so forth. Being home alone, I wandered the halls, unsure that anyone loved me, because of course, I could not check my email or FB. Alas, I was left to my own spinning. So, I flew at it.
Bush after bush I wrapped with silken threads. I crisscrossed and tangled. I swept and dusted leaf over leaf. I cooked nothing, because I prefer my bugs raw and kicking.
Swallowtail Butterflies are fresh and new by the first of April. Larabee is a hidden valley created by the Eel River. Perhaps I have lived here since time began, a butterfly in the willows on the banks of a Northern river.