The Mystery of the Butterfly
Yesterday afternoon my husband and I went shooting at a range far back in Murray County (since shooting ranges have to be away from populations). It was hot, which probably kept others away. We were there well over two hours and alone the whole time.
Except for the mosquitoes, gnats, flies, and oh, my, the butterflies. Beautiful indigo and purple butterflies with splashes of gold.
Try as I might, they eluded me, No matter how quietly I approached, they flew away as soon as my outstretched hand was within a few inches. And why shouldn't they? What do I need with a butterfly?
So I watched, surprised that the gunshots did not seem to chase them away. I observed one intently and my husband shot, unexpectedly (I wear strong ear protection). The butterfly flinched or shuddered, but did not fly away. Yet it did when I tried to cup it in my hand.
A textbook I used to use for Humanities talked about the modern theory of the butterfly effect, that states that if a butterfly flutters its wings in Northwest Georgia it will affect the weather in Tokyo. I always thought that was sheer nonsense. How much more would a man shooting target practice? Yet the spirit of the theory is that my actions affect others, something we can never gauge and that I think would drive us insane if we took to heart. I read an article online recently that measured how much the daily Google searches affected energy use globally. So, do we stop doing research?
For those who balk at shooting guns, in the more rural Southeast owning guns is not seen as a determinant of violence. I like the shooting, although yesterday I didn't do much; my husband was more interested in tinkering with the technology, so I was the lovely assistant. But when I do shoot, it's fun and I'm fairly accurate. I confess to basic ignorance about types of guns so some research wouldn't hurt.
Except for the mosquitoes, gnats, flies, and oh, my, the butterflies. Beautiful indigo and purple butterflies with splashes of gold.
Try as I might, they eluded me, No matter how quietly I approached, they flew away as soon as my outstretched hand was within a few inches. And why shouldn't they? What do I need with a butterfly?
So I watched, surprised that the gunshots did not seem to chase them away. I observed one intently and my husband shot, unexpectedly (I wear strong ear protection). The butterfly flinched or shuddered, but did not fly away. Yet it did when I tried to cup it in my hand.
A textbook I used to use for Humanities talked about the modern theory of the butterfly effect, that states that if a butterfly flutters its wings in Northwest Georgia it will affect the weather in Tokyo. I always thought that was sheer nonsense. How much more would a man shooting target practice? Yet the spirit of the theory is that my actions affect others, something we can never gauge and that I think would drive us insane if we took to heart. I read an article online recently that measured how much the daily Google searches affected energy use globally. So, do we stop doing research?
For those who balk at shooting guns, in the more rural Southeast owning guns is not seen as a determinant of violence. I like the shooting, although yesterday I didn't do much; my husband was more interested in tinkering with the technology, so I was the lovely assistant. But when I do shoot, it's fun and I'm fairly accurate. I confess to basic ignorance about types of guns so some research wouldn't hurt.
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