The photo of the week should really be a hunt for something spectacular daily, followed by a download and a waiting game until the week has ended. Admittedly I took this photo this morning. I was that girl who woke up at 4am to study for the final that day, rather than preparing days in advance. I like the adrenaline, I suppose. That or I'm incredibly lazy.
What I do appreciate about this personal challenge is that it does open my eyes to scenes otherwise ignored.
Case and point: This morning as I was unloading the boys from the jogger (of which the front tire popped 1.5 miles into my run, I might add), I caught a glimpse of these poor little butterflies, stuck to the grill of my SUV.

Even in their death, they were beautiful and they moved me.

We were in Sonora, as mentioned, for a few days. Anytime I'm in the country, wonderful thoughts of my dad come to mind. His heart is there, his body as well. There was a lot of chicken coop talk (goat talk, too!), and memories flooded into my mind of my dad and I working on the chicken coop as a child. According to my mom it was my favorite place to be. I remember helping build it, putting the wire up, gathering eggs. But above all, I think I just liked that it was something only my dad and I enjoyed. I don't think my brothers spent much time down there, maybe to harass the chickens occasionally or to bring the horses to graze the fresh grass. Otherwise, it was for him and I.

When viewing these butterflies the phrase "beauty for ashes" came to mind (from the below verse). I reflected on the day my dad passed, stroking his face, his beauty.

Even with death comes beauty.

"To give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they may be called trees of righteousness."

Isaiah 61:3