When I arrived home today there was a butterfly resting on my back door.
It stayed quite a while. I am taking this as an omen of good things to come; a portent of profit, if you will.
I wrote this poem -before Christmas I think- while walking in Haig Park:
At the setting of the sun
My path was laid with butterflies
Orange wings in orange skies
Now, alas, summer days are ending, and the long goodbye to good day.
The calendar in fact says summer is already over, and true, this very morning I saw some leaves beginning to blush at the approach of autumn proper.