"Em vez de correr atrás das borboletas, cultiva o teu jardim", diz-se

"Instead of chacing butterflies, take care of your garden", some say

Half a million steps after the gardening starts and with lots of butterflies on the way, he finds this one with its fire colors iluminating the end of a great day.

After so many attempts to capture its color and essence using the camera full set of specs and utilities, the agility of the camera man, the multiplicity and velocity offered by the camera once again and the patience of trying to find the perfect moment, all of them were frustrated one after the other. The enchantment was offered to his eyes, even displayed with overwhelming luxury in small stops as if posing with intent. Still, when he moved a single muscle intending anything but appreciate, the butterfly flew, not allowing his venture of capture to be successfull.  
 

He was so tired of one more day cultivating - and what a great day it has been - that his abillity of understanding what was going on was certainly diminished.

Deluded by the beauty of those vibrating and passionate colors, designed in unique and idyllic impressions in a pair of enormous wings, even for a butterfly, he was completelly unaware of the invisible and impossible barrier that the butterfly was facing on her point of view.

The barrier was so easy for him to break and it would be so easy to explain to the beautifull butterfly how to do it, but it was impossible for her to understand him.

A plan was set in motion. Stop being selfish, start empatizing, get your camera out of this picture and start envolving her (it is now a she the butterfly) without restraining, leave space for her to get free, wanting and simply free her from the dellusion that's keeping her restrained.

Lot's of tension and several attempts asking for her trust, resisting the temptation of simply grabing her and probably cause damage to her fragility, eventually she stopped and landed on the palm of his hand. Slowly they're good to go towards her freedom.

Three steps after and it has already been a success. 

The butterfly felt instead of earing and was calm on her sadlle.

He advances trough the hall and after three meters a very nice lady he met minutes before stands up from her cabine and shouts:
"How rare! Precious."

They've continued walking.

After arriving outside, he thought, she'll know it is a good time to fly.

But she didn't. Quiet and still she was keeping the ride to the out side.  

Now it was he who said: 

"Beatifull!"

Being there, together, they talked about true feelings taking the trust he got from her as a start, the important stages and challenges he faced and the conversation lasted a pair of minutes ...

At this stage he was already asking her again to spread her wings and show him the beauty that captured his attention, forseeing the arrival of the roads of the city with its cars and noise that for sure wouldn't allow the butterfly to keep being there.

Spreading the wings?! No way.
Not even with the hand swinging the butterfly towards and backwards defying her balance to be compensated by the oppening of the wings.

Eventhough so vulnerable as she probably ever was in its butterfly existence, she didn't move a single bit. 



A road had to be crossed now.

Traffic, a hundred steps ahead until the destination chosen by him to let the butterfly keep on living her dream as that seemed to be the mission he got from her.

In that walk after his surprise in her not getting away and the acquired serenity associated to the beautifull grasping of her bit of his hand all the time without moving, she started to compliment him with the truth of his feelings, the prospect of having opened the doors of the most beautifull master pieces, the settlement of having the right retribution for the trully given trust being something really worthy only when it has to be worthy and that everything would be allright from that point on, because that's the way it should be.

In a moment, surprised, he stops holding the camera in shooting position and in a split of a second, as if knowing exactly when to do it, the butterfly spreads her wings once again and a show of orange dashing fresh flames, dotted with hazelnuts and brown strings that seemed to articulate her wings takes place as she goes away, flying.

It was right here that she flew and he kept on going.
Curious story for the way, he thought...