In the Museum of Natural History there is the Butterfly House.
It is a small exhibit. Its on the second floor of the Museum of Natural History just after the insect zoo.
It took a lot for Bashert and Yoda to make it through there.
We saw the Butterflies advertised outside, but didn’t know we would have to pay to get in, after all it is one of the Smithsonian museums. But it has been 12 years since Bashert and I have been to visit so we found some things had definitely changed.
At first we said no, but Yoda asked really nicely and since we were ostensibly in DC to give him the experience, we caved and said yes. Bashert wasn’t happy with the wait time or the somewhat surly distraction of the ticket girl, but we forged ahead.
We busied ourselves in line by looking at the freaky array of caterpillar and butterfly species on display. We had to give that up because even that was a bit much for the other two. Nature can be mightily strange.
Our time finally arrived to enter the realm of the butterflies.
After the obligatory be careful speech, the door was opened and we stepped into a cool spray of mist. Beyond that were about six or seven separate little raised garden areas and a multitude of butterflies of all shapes, sizes and colours.
We couldn’t help but smile.
Everywhere we looked there was a butterfly either flying about or warming themselves on the garden flowers with slow waves.
Wings that seemed to be dull camouflage would open up to be the deepest midnight blue I had ever seen. There were red, orange, yellow, blue and mosaic butterflies. There were wings that swooped in like hourglasses and other that were shaped like sails on tall ships.
We were for a time transported away from everything but the beauty in that small room.
Yoda was thrilled when one landed on him. At first he was a bit nervous, but then settled quickly and said that the butterflies must really like him.
Bashert ended up supporting a few herself. One on her arm, one on her head and another took a liking to her camera.
A lovely blue one took up residence on my back for a little while.
There is nothing quite like being a perch for such a delicate and fragile thing.
It was kind of sad when it was our turn to move on. The smiles that we had stuck on our faces as we stepped out more than paid the price of admission. Funny how small things can make such a difference sometimes.
Maybe the cranky ticket girl should spend a few minutes in the actual exhibit. It would sure do her heart good.