metaphor

Underneath one of those chairs on the left is the chrysalis of a monarch butterfly. The groom found it during his honeymoon (honeymooning with the moms? lucky moms) and took its picture. It was a beautiful green, with a jeweled necklace and buttons, more beautiful than any made by—oops, didn't mean to say that.
Anyway, the happy couple toured the island by motorcycle and as part of a tour given by three experienced Island taxi drivers, one of whom gave us a piece of info we hadn't had before, i.e. that Block Island was so called because town is a block long. We learned many other interesting things to0, and found on a historical marker a possible name for the couple's first born: Precious Spring.

After a week the honeymooners left. We kept checking every day, but the butterfly still hadn't hatched out. Yesterday, though, I found the tomb empty and the newborn on the ground, trying to find purchase on a blade of grass. I let it walk on my finger and conveyed it to more solid ground (the chair) to dry its wings and fly away.
I won't belabor the point, but I think it was headed for Mexico rather than Providence.