Its wings unraveled without witness.
Finding the beauty perched on the windowsill; she was mesmerized by its wings of gold with stripes of brilliant black leading to a touch of scarlet and blue.
“I’m sorry you were born in January, this is not the right time for you, is it?” she said sorrowfully to the delicate creature.
An unexpected houseguest that typically might have shown up in June, she offered it orange slices and sugar water.
Wings fluttered and it painted the kitchen with summer majesty, circling around her head as she applauded and cheered on its first flight.
The tiger swallowtail rested on her shoulder, letting her know that now is the right time.