Mollie and I are escorted along the upper road by a myriad of butterflies. The butterflies a drinking water and minerals. The water is melting from near by snow banks.
We are accompanied by lovely brown mourning cloak butterflies, and orange butterflies. The mourning cloaks are live swatches of brown velvet edged with old fashion ivory lace. The orange butterflies (I need to research what type of butterflies they are) are orange with brown spots with wings that look like torn paper. They are able to disappear on a tree trunk when the close they wings together, and then when wings open there is a flash of color.
We walk near the valley of snowdrops. They are in bloom. There scent fills the air with the perfume of spring. It has drawn emerging honey bees to harvest the snowdrops pollen. The snow drops are prettily dancing on a slight breeze. The outershirts of three white petals open wide providing a glimpse of the green underskirts dotted and edged in white lace.
Near an old wall of blue limestone and cement, we find a few violets in bloom. There scent reminds me of the violet perfume candies that my grandmother bought for us as children. I pick a bouquet to take this touch of spring into the house.
Mollie and I complete our walk, still accompanied by butterflies.
The weather forecast is for winter to return.
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