November Admiral

Last night I dreamed two Peacock butterflies, basking in unseasonal warmth in a stubble field. There was talk of a Swift too (a November swift!), but I didn't see it.
  This morning - Remembrance Sunday, sunny but crisp and cool - I was on my way to the shops, walking along by the side of the former Town Hall (1935 - 'decidedly pretty,' says Pevsner) when, to my astonishment, a Red Admiral swooped down towards me. I felt a great surge of sudden happiness as it flew past very close, took a graceful circular flight, then returned and settled, wings fully open, on a sunny window transom. For some while it basked there - a fresh bright specimen in all its summer pomp - before taking off on another circuit, then back to the window for more November sun. Finally it flew away and was lost from view...
  Tomorrow is my mother's funeral.
  Of course this butterfly was not a messenger.
  Of course it was.