Thursday evening I was out checking my garden when I noticed a butterfly upside down in a cup of water. I saw it struggling to right itself, so I quickly and carefully picked it out. The poor, bedraggled, soaking-wet creature sat on my finger fluttering its wings and trying to dry out.
I looked for a safe place to set it and found a nice milkweed. It latched onto the milkweed and sat sunning itself in the evening glow. It may not be able to fly with such tattered wings, but it seemed grateful for the helping hand.
