
After scouring weather reports for a couple of days, I decided to blast off for Pine Mtn. Oregon in hopes of snatching a stellar XC flight for Memorial Day. It was great to get in touch with Steve Roti again and he mobilized a batch of hopeful local pilots. The drive down was very pleasant with various shades of Spring along the way.
Too bad the thermals off Pine were disorganized, a tad ratty, few and far between. Nevertheless, the day was beautiful and my brief soaring flight ended up landing in the sage near my truck rather than out in the hinterlands--something to be said for a stroll to the ice chest rather than a couple of hours on the roadside trying to scrounge a ride!
While packing up I was treated to a visit from a couple of tiny lavender butterflies. Despite blustery swirly mid-day wind at the "Y" landing zone, these two little fellows stuck with me like glue. Landing on my arm, my pockets, my shoes, I had to move carefully with my little buddies lest they become butterfly pate. After I packed up and wandered to the truck, I sat on the tailgate and had lunch--my friends hung out as well, evidently stocking up on borrowed electrolytes gleaned from dried sweat crystals. This seems to be a common activity for the Spring Azure butterfly according to my research to identify my new friends.

Most of all, though, I found myself cogitating about spending time. Our "time allowance" is finite, but we don't have the option to view the balance in our account. To spend an hour of time in a lifespan probably measured in weeks was quite an investment for the azure twins, but they seemed totally content to hang with me. I must admit I enjoyed their company as well, and found my spirits noticeably lifted by their fleeting company. As I fired up the diesel to drive home I had to finally roll down the passenger window and shoo one of them away to join his bro, he had actually managed to get into the truck!
I guess time spent with our flying friends is a good thing, despite how tiny and purple they may be. When I mentioned my lunch hour to Steve he commented "The butterflies can recognize a kindred spirit when they see one."
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