Colors of yellow-green and ashy jade holding tightly and crusting over the rough gray bark of a tree. Somehow these two (actually three) have found home and I, like the moth, fall to their enchantment.
They are the nocturnal, fluttering winged wanderers. We shoo them off screen doors and wool sweaters. We find them a nuisance, leaving their white wing powders in windowsills. But it too was made with such fine intricacies. Feathery antennae sensing what we cannot see. Her wings, lacking color perhaps, are more like old fragile windowpanes, translucent enough to see the painted crusts underneath she feeds upon. This is absolutely magical. The way color and life play. The way the Maker shows His skill.