Yesterday was a day of tragedy at the Clune house. We laid to rest a roll of Charmin, a bag of egg noodles (the cats now open cupboards), and said good-bye to this curious creature who expired at our front door.

I had no idea what this was at first, but I found myself captivated by its beautiful markings, the lacy transparency of its wings and its largess. It appeared to be dead, but closer inspection revealed the slow kick of a single rear appendage. I watched as those beautiful wings fluttered, narry a movement as much as a slight vibration. The final death rattle.

My thoughts returned to this being many times throughout the day. I photographed it to preserve, in my memory, the curious life that once was. Here I sit at  5 a.m. writing about the experience without knowing why.

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