"Nancy Springer - Chasing Butterfly" - читать интересную книгу автора (Springer Nancy)

they nearly touch, waiting for another. The azalea bush glows like sunset, and
the butterflies rest in its cloudy softness, slowly fanning their delectable
wings. They are southern ladies in church, Nona decides, souls rocking in the
bosom of Abraham.
The dog waits. No shadows skitter across the sand. Time passes, minutes
collecting on God's necklace. The dog barks impatiently, then springs.
Straight
at a swallowtail on a lower branch he launches himself, snapping with those
piss-and-vinegar jaws of his, jumping it to make it fly.

Nona does not mind that he then chases the shadow instead of the thing itself.
She is laughing out loud, and trying to leap into the air with her ancient,
healthy body, and clapping her hands like the noisy clapping wings of a dove,
because her dog is wise as angels. He knows. He knows what is real. He knows
where the stars wander, he knows the color of glory, he knows how to qualify
for
the grand prize. He knows that above the butterfly shadow flies the butterfly.