A Halo of Butterflies

Many years ago I learnt a trick which has scored me many free meals. Whenever I see a film shoot and I am hungry, I just wait in line at the catering truck. As long as I can feign the standard boredom of an extra, there is never usually a problem walking away with some hot food. Today at Paddington, the ploy resulted in a breakfast of sausage-filled croissant.

It was a good start to a good day. Early sun warmed the shadows. Blossom exploded from trees. The gentle hiss of sprinklers accompanied Melvyn Bragg as he led me through the Battle of Thermopylae.

Crossing Sussex Gardens, I began walking with Muse and gained company. A halo of butterflies circled my head. Two iridescent orange satellites in elliptical orbit. I expected them to decay, but they maintained their dancing formation. I pushed on for a full half mile reborn in the image of Quetzalcoatl. Maybe, just maybe, my mojo is returning.