Wings on a windowsill

I have another post almost ready to go, but the closing paragraphs require a little more brainpower than I have available counting down to midnight. And so it will wait until the morning. In the meantime, this little creature settled on the kitchen windowsill this evening and I was struck by the mossy green beauty and delicacy of its wings.

I lingered around them, under the benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers, for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

-Bronte«  , EmilyJane
Wuthering Heights, ch.34, closing words.

One thought on “Wings on a windowsill

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