The Butterflies of Turnabout Woods

Turnabout Woods blooms in the beetle plowed pulp. Living there in the tenancy of the sun golden butterflies make their home. At times they visit small cottage gardens to write romantic novels, pages that appear sporadically on the underside of toadstools. At midday they bathe like turtles on the rocks. In Spring, Bluebell herds bunch then on a hunch, breakaway following fictional trails. None are sure if the light sinks deeper than life here. The butterflies don’t care, like arboreal Gods, they look down, as we crawl between the mulched roots of our own fairytales.