It was one of those boring noon of summer vacation...I was in 8th class.

As usual buried in the books,trying to concentrate on the task given by my momzie !!
And at some point, when distracted watching the world go by through the window, behold, I had a surprise.

No... I looked and could not understand what it was exactly what was brewing in the corner of the window, sandwiched between the wood and the wall...

A bug with a different kind of web!!

Above the line that my view could normally reach.

I watched for a while,closely ecountering it's every move.But then had to answer the call of my duty.

Then it was time to play.

The weired ''thing'' vanished from my mind in joy of childhood.

Upon returning, I noticed that the weaver continued his work and the mystery was solved: it was a caterpillar spinning its cocoon, preparing for a lengthy process, lonely, but rewarding.

I did not tell many people about the discovery. However, those who perceived the existence of it made a point to monitor developments.

They spent a few days and she remained motionless, immersed in the immensity of the white flakes that make up the cotton-wool cocoon. Processing period.

And why ignore the cycle of change, no one sought to know how long it would take for the caterpillar turn into a beautiful butterfly. Seemed already to be part of the landscape to enjoy it that way.

After a few days without seeing her, I find the place empty.

It suggested that someone know the cycle of transformation had pulled the cocoon and thus destroyed a life that was about to reappear at its most beautiful.

Perhaps the shell of a cocoon, for being so imperfect, has generated the destructive instinct of man. Or maybe it was the simple lack of patience with a process too slow for modern times. Among the hypotheses that I could imagine, I prefer to believe the lack of knowledge because it is less cruel.

And so the butterfly, by external influence, failed to reach its destination. Overcame heat, rain, loneliness, indifference, but bumped into the action of others.

In this scenario may occur many lessons if we have time to reflect.

And I only had time to learn a little more of the process when life was lost.

Days later, in one of the busiest streets of the city, I saw a beautiful butterfly taking flight when the traffic was closed to vehicles. It flew, but just before completing the crossing decided to stay on the asphalt.

The light turned green and I followed exalted that scene. The cars began to move around and between the passage of a vehicle and the other, blue-winged butterfly slightly swayed.

Even before the passage of a freight truck she stood firm. Suddenly she almost reached the floor and I thought I would not know about her fate in a few seconds, it flew again and was soon on safer air.

And the blue in contrast with the black outline of the wings has never seemed more beautiful to me.

It is free from human interference. He respected his time, became a butterfly and learned to fly..... :) :)