“Nathan, come quick and see this little bug on the screen door. It’s irridescent,” I called.
When Nathan came, he took one look and agreed with me that the small green and gold insect which glistened in the sun was beautiful. But why was it so still on the screen door?
Gently, I scooped him onto the end of my finger and saw why he was not moving. 
His feet were stuck in the mesh of the screen. Once freed, he scooted around, checked to be sure all six feet were attached, and flew. I have no idea who he was as he didn’t take time to introduce himself, but he seemed glad to be rescued. I think I saw him give a tiny beetle salute as he flew away.
Later, a lovely black butterfly lit on my deck. “And who are you?” I asked. “Where did you come from? If you need a drink of water, there’s plenty in the bird bath.”
Butterflies, who are known to be quiet and shy, refrained from answering but I got a picture of him before he spread his wings for parts unknown.
So, did it turn out to be a buggy Sunday? I think so. The morning started ominously, under a gray sky but, with the visits of two air-borne creatures who dropped in for a while, the day turned out to be quite nice.
That butterfly is beautiful.
Yes, it really is.
Lovely story, Blanche.
While my grandson was staying with us he dashed into the kitchen one morning to say a tiny little mouse was swimming for its life in the pool. I fished it out and he begged me not to kill it, he said it was trying so hard to survive. The little mouse was actually, what we call in England, a field vole. I tossed him onto a patch of soft groundcover, he huffed and puffed, got his breath back, stared at us with tiny, jet black eyes and scuttled off to enjoy the day.
You are closer to God in a garden than anywhere else in the world.
What a neat story, Josephine. Thanks for sharing.