There Must Be Magic

By GirlWithACamera

Floating Butterfly (The Rescue)

It wasn't where we thought we were going, but it was most definitely where we ended up: Black Moshannon State Park. Our original plan for the day involved a swim at Bald Eagle State Park. However, we're lucky we called them. The park is still struggling to get back to normal after last week's big storms and flooding. The swimming area at Bald Eagle is still closed!

So we ran some errands, and got a takeout salad and cottage fries at Jim's in Bellefonte. Ate them at Governor's Park, where there's lots of commotion and chaos nowadays, as they begin building the new school right next door. It'll be loud and busy for a long, long time there. No peace to be had. Not happy to find that out, but it's good to know.

Then we set out for Black Moshannon, where we parked the car in a different spot than usual, and walked over to the beach area to swim. There weren't many people there, but I did spy a huge blue heron, which took off and flew over the swimming area, landed in a corner, got chased by the little kids, and ended up on the other side of the water, near the environmental center. We also saw a bald eagle fly overhead!

We got in the water and were surprised to discover it was COLD. I mean, colder than Greenwood Furnace, even! It might have been the chilliest swim of summer so far, and that's saying A LOT. (And I should know; I'm a cold-water swim lover from way back when.)

We were entertained by the antics of the children who were there, especially one young miss whose name was (according to all the screams, shouts, and hollers) LUCY. Now, Miss Lucy was on a blue floatie, and as she floated past, I heard her say to her family, Greta Garbo style: "I just want to be left alone!" Oh my, I giggled. I couldn't help it!

The family's shouts and vocal urgings continued, as Miss Lucy's blue craft began to approach the swim area ropes. She was informed that she was NOT allowed to go past the ropes! Her sister set out on a smaller craft, intent on rescue. No go! 

I couldn't help myself: "Miss Lucy is not in need of rescuing," I smiled as I said it to her mother. The mom said something back, maybe just a wry laugh, and I said, "I sense Lucy has an independent spirit." She laughed, or maybe sighed, is more like it. I sensed in Lucy the capacity for a lifetime of adventures of going just a bit too far, and not always staying inside the ropes. Perhaps, a kindred spirit.

Eventually, the mother had to go out and get Miss Lucy and bring her back from the ropes. The mom informed me that it was a new blue floatie and EVERYBODY wanted to try it out that day. Somehow I will always think of that little girl as Lucy Pevensie! (And I thought to myself: I bet that later in the day, Lucy went looking for Mr. Tumnus!)

When we were done with our swim, we got in the car and took it over to one of the boat docks, in the shade. It's a quiet area where we like to sit and enjoy the breezes and the views. I did a quick jaunt on the Bog Trail, walking along the wooden boardwalk and enjoying communing with the carnivorous plants.

When I came back, I sat on the dock and looked out over the lake at the fine reflections. I was standing there a few minutes before I noticed the tattered yellow butterfly floating by on a stick. It had seen some days, and it was was sitting there, not moving, looking rather soaked. 

I got down and pulled the stick over, pulled it and the butterfly out of the water onto the dock beside me. It still looked pretty soggy when I was getting ready to walk away. So I moved the stick and the butterfly to a sunny, grassy area to dry out. My husband later came by and moved the yellow butterfly to a boat in the sun for better wing drying.

I don't know this butterfly's full story, only how things ended up. Maybe it was intent on some long sea voyage that I interrupted, not unlike that of Odysseus, full of Cyclops, and Lotus Eaters, and big winds. But it seemed its adventuring days (unlike our dear Miss Lucy) might be nearing their end, and I wanted to give it a safe harbor to recover, if it might; or even, if not.

So here is my picture for the day of the floating butterfly, which is a tiger swallowtail, Papilio glaucus. My tale is one of rescue, and so here is U2 with Love Rescue Me.

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