Melancholy notes and a harbinger of moths

Tonight, I was watching one of the truly melancholy songs from the past-" Where have all the flowers gone" performed by a quartet; one of the singers was actually the person who wrote the song. I am sitting at my dining table and I see this moth flying around near the corner of the room. I am reminded of Woolf seeing the moth on a window sill, that she uses to describe the inevitability of death so vividly, in a matter of fact fashion, in one of her essays. I see opportunity here. I do nothing, absolutely nothing. For a while, I stay still and continue to enjoy watching the moth flit around with the corner of my eyes. In an impulsive turn of events and in the grip of masquerading a solemnly artistic gesture, I raise my hands, wave and wish for the moth to fly to me, so I could have a closer look at the dark winged friendly visitor. Guess what! It happened! She flew and decided to settle right on my palm! It literally made my evening! In the end, she did not want to leave, even after I had had the pleasure of her company for a good few minutes, and I was summarily obliged to gently send her on her way!