The morning was alive with the night time still flourishing outside my window.

Nocturnal mornings? Sips coffee. I love nocturnal mornings!

We heard baby owls which I told my son sounds like an owl coughing, cackling, sounds evil. We listened inquisitively. Which then we heard the mother as well. She must have had dinner ready. Because of course it was time for bed for them.

And then as I was cleaning up my ridiculous cats mess (because he too had a nocturnal morning, or night, of zooming and making loud evilish sounds and crashes), I go outside to take the trash and as I’m shutting the door I notice a moth hanging in the crook of the door. I realized too late and smashed the door onto one of its wings. Oh dear! I pick it up and it’s still fluttering. I bring it inside to show the boys and we lay it gently down to see if it was still okay to fly. Well perhaps, I noticed it moving some more but it could be cold? I hope so. 

I wonder if moths are visitors of the afterlife? They say in some cultures. Their spiritual meanings are clear: transformation. Rebirth. Letting go. All the things I have been trying to do these days. Holding onto the judgements, hatred of others. Let it go. Everyone is a horrible, shameful and flawed person…do they even know how to have compassion or empathy, or even to see it inside themselves? So I will move on, knowing I am not perfect and never want to be. Because no one else is either. Humans are insanely messy creatures.