Just before leaving for dinner out at my favorite local Erie restaurant (Pineapple Eddie – KILLER cajun cuisine), the first monarch butterfly of the spring flew by my nose. It got me thinking about the moniker this very cool flying worm acquired; monarch.
I haven’t had a chance to research the background, not even sure that I will. The imagination is nothing if not feral. Recently, a crew of five emergency vehicles descended on our small neighborhood, landing in the driveway of a good friend. My son and I rubbernecked from our own yard, forming conjecture from thin air. It was all fire responders… but no smoke. Medical emergency? Hmm… no ambulance, can’t be that. I then postulated that perhaps our neighbor had errantly left a pot on the stove top unattended (it has happened before). A few days later I discovered that this was indeed the truth.
No one was hurt, thankfully – and there was a fleeting sense of relief that I now had a hold of the truth. But then, I was greeted by a crestfallen emotional state, knowing that every other fantastic hypothesis my son and I had come up with had gone up in smoke with the truth.
The monarch butterfly was beautiful as it drifted by. I really don’t need to know much about it, other than the joy it gave me for 8 seconds as I focused on it’s awkward dance into the distance. Still, our imaginations demand answers, and if we can not realize those answers quickly we fill in the blanks. This is the nature of the inquisitive human mind.
I like to think that it was named monarch for it’s beautiful gold and black coloring, resembling the crown of royalty. So for now, I’m going with that.
OR – maybe it’s a Steelers fan.