The monarch butterfly on the previous post, and less so, the many other butterflies I've quilted, mostly on postcards, are very private reminders of this anniversary. We all, New Yorkers and the rest of the country, dealt with the trauma of that day in personal ways. Mine was to write a long private poem adding onto it for ten days, and naming it simply enough "Ten Days in September". On the tenth day I was walking in Riverside Park with a friend when we noticed that the late rose bushes were full of monarch butterflies. We spoke about their migration to Mexico and the amazement we felt that these delicate creatures could accomplish such a feat. They became for me an example of the persistence of life force and made up the conclusion of my poem.
Another poem had to follow months later because that was the year of the killing frost in the Mexican forest where the monarchs congregate by the millions. And they died by the millions. That renewed the sadness I felt about the loss in September. The butterflies have recovered and still return to Mexico and finally new buildings are going up downtown, but today New Yorkers and millions of people around the world remain sad. I have other thoughts that are more appropriate for my other blog that will be written later today.
PROJECTS - *Swallowtail Resting, Climax, Kentucky* Project time. I usually have to set aside times in my daily life to complete certain projects. Now is the tim...
6 days ago