A natural miracle happened a short while ago. It's a hot summer night here in Seattle, and two ladybugs flew in my open window. Both of them had black wing covers, with one perfect, ruby-red circle on each wing cover. I've never seen any ladybugs like that around here. I've seen the orange and black kind, that eat aphids in your garden. I've seen them yellow and black, and kind of pinkish cream and black spots. But I've never seen one that's black with red spots, not even in Texas, where I saw the black and orange spotted ones. I consider this a minor miracle, though of a perfectly natural kind. Serendipitous. Should I write a poem about it?