The road passed between two fields of alfalfa. I stopped the bike and paused to enjoy the cool air that surrounded the crop. I tipped back my water bottle. When I lowered my head dozens of yellow butterflies bobbed past. Then hundreds of the yellow shapes rose from the alfalfa and filled the air. I knew it meant problems for the farmer who owned those fields, but I felt I was in the midst of something magical.
Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “butterfly.”