Thursday, April 9, 2009
In the damp grass still covered with morning dew, the "she huntress" [moi] stalks her prey. The prey stands no chance, for the huntress is cunning, clever, and quite capable of eating the prey in one bite.
The prey is unaware of the danger about. It is blissfully ignorant of the power possessed by the huntress.
The huntress is watching and waiting for the right millisecond to pounce on the prey.
The air is still. Time is suspended. You can almost taste the tension.
Suddenly a wind gust.
The prey flies off the flower it had occupied so quickly, so unaware of the danger it averted.
The huntress looks up. "Bye butterfly, we shall meet again"