Under the midsummer moon, moths become butterflies. Time stands still long enough to allow those of us who know where to look, the opportunity to appreciate the spectacle. In that one perfect moment, there can be nothing but happiness. Simple pleasures become profundities; chasing "butterflies" becomes the reason for being. In that moment...we are gifted with an understanding. This is the meaning of life.
I like that some of the flowers and those butterflies (are they butterflies?) looks like little hearts. I don't know if they are butterflies - but the dog is playing with them - or it's love in the air