It’s strange.

I saw a moth in my garden.

It was beautiful:

a small beige friend with a cheerful pink on its wings.

I looked it up in case it was a pest and I needed to worry about it.

It was hard trying to find it since I didn’t have a chance to take its picture before it fluttered away.

But when I found it, my heart kind of broke.

I could still be wrong

(how would I know, I’m not a lepidopterist),

but all signs pointed to this species:

a Schinia florida.

Florida.

Why of all things did it have to be Florida?

Even in my garden, my safe space, there’s some kind of reminder of you.