I had stopped for the flowers.

Then, just as I took the photograph, a butterfly settled among them.

Some moments cannot be arranged. They arrive without warning and disappear almost as quickly, leaving only the memory that, for an instant, the world offered more than we had expected.

Perhaps attention prepares us for such gifts. We cannot summon them, but we can be present when they come.

Grace is often like that: not earned, planned, or held for long—simply received.