a diamond in the rough

Once we had finished introducing our small stuffed bull to the field’s resident milk cows, we headed out in a different way than we had entered. Our hope was that we could locate a better exit than the rickety barbed wire fence we had precariously maneuvered for lack of an obviously better entrance point . . . but that is another story :-)
This particular post is about the fact that, as we tramped through the mud, Mel pointed out a striking butterfly; it had, as she noted, chosen a rather odd spot in which to linger. I agreed, but also found it beautiful, in a strange and unexpected sort of way . . .