We went to the butterfly conservatory a couple of days ago. A great place for the love of my life to study movement and what shutter speeds do to movement, she'll be aces with her new work camera in no time at all, the pictures she's already produced bear witness to that.
"Don't look for dead things." She admonishes me, as we enter the inner sanctum, through the air lock,which vacuums "hitchhiker" butterflies from leaving, attached unbeknownst to the less wary.
"I don't look for dead things, that's Emma. I was simply on alert for her that day." I say in my own defense, referencing a day we all spent at the pet store, in which Emma and I had reported a dead betta fish to an employee. "Well, she did it at the zoo as well, found a dead bird in a cage. Don't you start."
"Yessum." I would do my best to comply. There were butterflies, koi fish, baby quail , bearded dragons, turtles...hopefully none would perish before me, or if any had perished previously, that I would not be the corpse discovering individual. My love sped off in one direction and I went right for the koi pond. Not looking for corpses, I gazed into the crystal clear water at the giant koi, orange and white, full of mystical blessing.Many people pointed and said "turtle" to each other, but I could not locate it. There were two baby koi, which were a delight to watch, they had a favourite overhanging stone they kept disappearing under.Nothing dead, I was safe. I checked out the turtle and bird cages... the turtle was doing his daily exercise somewhere in the conservatory, or so the sign on his door said, but the finches were in fact in residence. Alive, all, to my knowledge. Living baby quail ran over my toes on their way to lunch. I waved to my fav photographer, busy at her craft, it seemed she was getting some good shots by the smile on her face. I went to the bearded dragon cages. Awesome spiny chinned creatures pouted and preened up at me.I attempted to mimic their dignity.Bearded dragons alive, check.
"****." I said aloud.
Looking down, i saw a beautiful blue and orange butterfly, flat to the cement.You never look down to see a butterfly, they are too scared by all of the loud, also-scared , stomping children, who freak the moment any of the butterflies even graze them. There are only a few zen-like kids, that comes here, hold out there arms and actually stay calm enough to have a few land on them and enjoy it, parading in front of their zen-like ooing parents. The butterflies either stay in flight constantly, land in a dish of rotten fruit for lunch time, or stay near the greenhouse ceiling where much Enya music is piped in. "I cannot locate dead things," I told it aloud, hoping it would resurrect itself and move on, understanding my dilemma.This is definitely an Emma-dilemma that I was not to have partaken in. It didn't move. there are signs everywhere that forbid the touching of butterflies, unless they in fact land on you. So, I stood firmly over it, waiting for a purple-shirted employees to waft by, so I could get it some help. I wasn't reporting a dead thing, just an ..injured thing.I waited, and shuffled and waited. Suddenly before me on the ground, I was staring at a red-shirted, dark-haired boy, who was making a tent with his body over our self-same rescue victim. He put out his finger and slid it before the butterflies front and cooed something at it , which meant 'hop on', I would imagine.The butterfly did not hop on, but stirred, freaked at the boy's proximity, and had indeed rested just enough to bolt. Hurray it was alive.The boy stood, shrugged and walked away.I pictured him years later on his own steve Irwin-y type tv show, citing this day as his inspiration, to help all injured animals with his magical finger. All in all, we spent nearly three hours, had lunch and came away with many intriguing photographs if I don't say so myself. Philosophical moment, anyone? Why can I read and choose to obey signs? Why would the child receive more forgiveness for helping the butterfly? An adult who can read signs, perhaps should ,on a grander scale, remember that obeying is sometimes, not what helps best.That signs are sometimes very broad in their meaning, the scope of which should foremost remain in judgement of a wise,
fearless individual. Hopefully with magic fingers. In essence? Signs are for stoopies. Needless to say, I did not see any dead things.


(Oh, and Syd, no butterflies were eaten in the writing of this passage. HAHAHA!!)

This message has been edited. Last edited by: pen dragon,

aww VERY cool Pen! ...would love to see the photos.. brilliant idea for learning to use a camera on such a beautiful subject. I dont think we have any butterfly conservatories around here, but this May i will be going to a Botanical Gardens and will def have to post photos..

Post photos and some paintin's hehe Ahhh, you deserve to have an awesome time!

Pen sounds like it was pretty cool. The way you can write things is just great!!
Can't wait to see how the pics turned out and glad you didn't see dead things LOL

Ty, ty and ty! You're a sweetheart