By Pattie Mihalik

newsgirl@comcast.netFor years, I've had an eye-catching bougainvillea bush covering my front fence. Every year it gets bigger and more beautiful.The guy who mows my lawn doesn't share my affection for the plant. He keeps asking me to cut it down because it scratches him when he walks by. He also claims the thorns from the plant always seem to find their way into the tires on his mower.I made a better effort to keep the bush trimmed but said I would never cut it down.Never arrived a lot sooner than I thought.Because we need to put up a new fence right behind the bougainvillea bush, the whole thing had to be removed.A landscaper came in and cut it all down. To remove the roots that were embedded in the ground for a decade, he had use a chain that he pulled with his pickup.Now, I hate to see the bare spot that was once a riot of color.But I had to smile, then laugh, when I took a close look at the ground this week. One lone bougainvillea sprig is now gallantly growing. Obviously, there was a still a bit of root somewhere.That's when I started to think of nature's lesson. There are times when we think all is lost and we can't go on. But it's amazing how we eventually can find new life from a little something that was planted inside of us.Just when we think we have nothing, new growth springs forth in surprising ways.We all have roots planted in us by our parents, our extended family, our background and our personal history. They are permanent influences we may not think about much. But nonetheless, our roots can resurface at crucial times to give us what we need to get by.I have my roots in the coal regions of Pennsylvania, a place I have long left. But I am forever grateful to carry those roots with me no matter where I roam. Included in those roots is the strength I've gained from the strong people there and the values they instilled in me.My mother never lectured about family values. She lived it, showing me through her example unselfish love and care. I learned from an early age having a close family to support you is a priceless gift.Nearly all my family is gone, but they are with me always, living in my heart and sometimes springing to life in my mind right when I need it.So I'm going to protect that little sprig still in my yard. It will remind me that we never know what will come into our life from a bit of root planted within us.While that's a positive lesson from nature, a bit of nature with a sad ending came my way this week. While my husband was carrying things inside, he propped open the door to the pool cage. It wasn't open all that long, but it was long enough to tempt a beautiful monarch butterfly to come inside the pool cage.But then the poor thing couldn't find its way out. I opened doors on each side, but the butterfly kept banging against the screen, not aware of the open doors.That happened once before when my friend Jeanne and her brother were swimming in my pool. Bob is one of the most tenderhearted individuals one could meet. No way was he going to enjoy himself while a beautiful butterfly was trapped inside.But despite his efforts, he couldn't shoo the butterfly to the opening. After he tried to catch it, the butterfly could no longer fly and eventually died.I tried to catch the new butterfly inside my pool cage with my pool net, but again, it didn't work. The butterfly eventually folded its wings and gave up.What lesson does that little bit of nature have to teach us?Maybe it says we sometimes are like that beautiful butterfly, banging our heads against the wall, trying to escape a situation. Our way out may be right in front of us but, we don't see it.Or we stay too long in an unworkable situation instead of finding a way out.How many people stay in destructive relationships until they, too, fold their wings and give up all spark of life?Here's my third lesson from nature that I thought about when taking my early morning walks. Each day that I walk my street I observe the ibises that come to feed in our yards.What I observed is there is never one or two birds looking for insects. They come in droves. A few arrive first, then within minutes the flock keeps getting bigger as more birds arrive and stay together.On my walk yesterday, I counted 44 ibises in one yard, pecking away together for insects.Here's what I find funny. If one ibis leaves to go to the next yard, the other 43 instantly follow. With 25 yards on each side of the street, I would think the birds could separate to have their own hunting grounds. But no. It's crowd behavior.Don't we see some of that in real life? Some call it herd mentality.It's amazing what we can learn by observing nature.Contact Pattie Mihalik at

newsgirl@comcast.net.