flying

Feel at the moment like my head is buzzing from morning until night. There are plays to be prepared for community protests against cuts in education, bags to be packed, books to be written, dissertations to correct, patient evaluations to write and babies to be fed. Stop. The sea is blue as the sky is blue. A rich deep azure. The colour lies between green and indigo and when I swim I become a psychological primary hue. I am cerulean, lazuline and sapphire; a lycaenid butterfly afloat on the salty water. I have four wings covered in tiny scales, a slender body and knobbed antanae. I have metamorphised from the larval caterpillar, I am the imago, I can fly.