Brush with a Butterfly

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IMG_3043I was in the butterfly house at the Chicago Botanic Garden, taking a picture, when this butterfly landed on the hand I was using to hold my lens. I rotated my wrist, slowly.

And there it stayed.

It looked at me and I looked at it. I managed to snap a number of photos as it lingered there, unperturbed, resting on my hand.

I’m not sure why it landed on me. Truth be told, I’d had a rather, well, sweet brunch, and maybe it sensed the sugar that was likely radiating from my pores. Maybe I seemed like a handy (get it?! HANDY?) perch, there in the middle of the path.

I’ll never know.

I’m not good at reading the minds of butterflies. I’m not sure if anyone is. I’m not sure if butterflies have minds. This one certainly looked like it was thinking.

Since they only live about two weeks, that butterfly spent a good chunk of its life on my hand. Like a long vacation to Handsville. Or that time it went to Handia to find itself.

Whichever it was, like any good vacationer, it posed for photos at the tourist attractions and then flew off again for home.

Check out  my full-length novels,  Her Cousin Much Removed,  The Great Paradox and the Innies and Outies of Time Management and Aunty Ida’s Full-Service Mental Institution (by Invitation Only), and the sequel, Aunty Ida’s Holey Amazing Sleeping Preparation (Not Doctor Recommended) which is now available!

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6 thoughts on “Brush with a Butterfly

  1. LSJ

    So now I can’t stop seeing a butterfly leaned up against the water-cooler telling all about its harrowing encounter with a REAL LIVE HUMAN while on vacation. 🙂

  2. CATERPILLAR: So, howdya get up to Handia, anyways?
    BUTTERFLY: I flew. of course.
    CATERPILLAR: There’s no way you’d get me up in one of those things.

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