Korsakov's Flight of the Butterfly

The autumn wind was cool and comforting as I hiked down the deer trail. In the distance, I could see a whirlwind of insects in the distance. They were butterflies. The fairy-like bugs dance harmoniously with the breeze. As I stood in the eye of the storm, hundreds of butterfly feet started to tickle my skin. I closed my eyes. It was dead silent except for the soft beat of each flap that the wings made. At first, it sounded like a distant chaos, but as I stood there longer, the more rhythm the buzz was given. It was like a rave. You had no choice. You had to feel the beat and move to it. Suddenly, I felt myself lost. Dizzy, I laid down onto the grass. As I stared up towards reality, my heart danced along with the butterflies. My eyelids dropped and I joined my friends again in the pulse of the atmosphere.