Lepidoptera

Here is a Zebra Longwing, landing on a flower at the Butterfly Pavillion at the Natural History Museum.



And here is Benji, standing in wonder before a Monarch. Just like Mama!



They were all there, in this exhibit that was like being trapped inside a giant butterfly net. The scaly-winged insects fluttered and flittered and tried to escape. They landed on your hands and shoulders and each other (to make love, it is spring!). I love their names: Orange Julia, Zebra Longwing, Question Mark, Buckeye, Spicebush Swallowtail (with bits of blue on their wings), luna moths, Great Southern Whites and Painted Ladies.

I just love butterflies. To me they are one of the great wonders of the world. Monarchs are my favorite, but I love them all. I have traveled to Michoacan to see the butterfly preserves high, high in the mountains--where, if you close your eyes you can actually hear the sound of millions of butterfly wings.

And I have traveled the trail of the West Coast Monarchs here in California for a story--looking for them hanging in great clumps in groves of eucalyptus from Santa Cruz down to Goleta. I have seen them swirl into the sky like orange fairy dust when the sun hits them, then grab onto each other and hide when the clouds come again.

Out in the wild is best, but even being trapped inside a netted pavillion with hundreds of children and butterflies in the middle of the city for me is a transcendent experience.

But just one question, dear reader: What do you think, should they be called Butterflies or Flutter-bys?

Ask your children.