Faded Glory

I suppose we don't need any reminder that Summer has now reluctantly begun to make way for Autumn.  All around, the leaves are beginning to change colour, many flowers parade their final encore and the sounds are those of finality (for this year at least); the swan song is in the air.

I came across this butterfly whilst recovering a rugby ball from a flower bed.  Like the autumn leaves, its wings are fading; once glorious colours are now only shades of brown.  Yet it is still beautiful.

Having helped with a couple of funerals recently, the words of the old funeral service (which is seldom used now) came to mind:

Man that is born of woman hath but a short time to live ... He cometh up, and is cut down, like a flower; he fleeth as it were a shadow, and never continueth in one stay.  

A little bleak perhaps, but a stark reminder of not only the fragility of life but its transience also.  Not only we but all of Creation are in an inevitable Autumn, waiting patiently for that eternal Spring to come...