Shouldn't…but Do

There is no end to the tale of the last Monarch chrysalis that hung from the siding of my house.

When unseasonably cold nights threatened, I insulated the chrysalis under a box against the house, cushioned by towels to keep out the cold.  Sheltered, it survived the wind and cold  intact.  Maturing, the chrysalis grew transparent, revealing the black and orange creature waiting within.

Warmth returned.  Days later, the Monarch was gone, chrysalis and all.  Did it blow away entirely on a warm autumn night?  Or did the butterfly finally fly on, leaving its aged former home to join restless leaves on their journey?

There is no end to the tale.

Not a bad thing.