For several days now, I have sat on the patio observing a yellow and black butterfly on a flight pattern across my back yard, into the neighbor’s, through the trees and across my yard again. My first thought was, you don’t see butterflies very much any more, how very cool is this. My second thought was, from what I remember butterflies don’t have a very long life span. My third thought was, his life was longer as a caterpillar than it will be as a butterfly. What an amazing gift of beauty we have gained by his transformation. This train of thought follows from a discussion in my philosophy class regarding the writings of David Hume, in particular: the life of a man is of no more importance than that of an oyster. Shocked I was at first to think that the life of a man was to be reduced to the same level as that of a shellfish – and yet. Cosmically we are all part of the universe and have something to contribute. The oyster may produce a pearl after a time. The list could go on and on. The point being something that seems to be of no significance, matters. And so I will sit back as the sun lights the rose petals, the leaves of the trees dance in the wind, and the butterfly maintains his flight path – and enjoy it all while I can.