My darling third born son Kieran received Painted Lady caterpillars for his eighth birthday this spring. They arrived as teeny, spiky little bugs, grew exponentially every day and soon pupated. A few days later we had butterflies! And this, my friends, is when life became interesting. Because our cat Nova is, apparently, obsessed with butterflies. She kept attacking the butterfly enclosure and we kept moving it to foil her. At one point we had the butterflies in a bedroom with the door closed and Nova managed to open the door and find them (how she even knew they were there I’ll never know). The butterflies ended up in my bedroom, on top of the TV, near the ceiling. Safe for butterflies; hardly conducive to enjoying butterflies. So it was time to execute a butterfly release.
Kieran is so deeply my son that he took his camera out with him and photographed his experience as I photographed him experiencing it. Kieran never trusts me to capture events for him and I kind of adore that about him. He’s right. I can photograph what I see but I can never reproduce what he sees.
There were five butterflies in total. The first four hung out for a few minutes to pose for pictures and then flew away.
I think the fifth might have had some help from Nova making it so she didn’t feel as confident flying so she hung around (on Kieran’s nose) for quite awhile.
The most fabulous selfie, ever:
Kieran walked around the yard and then the house, proclaiming that he was the butterfly whisperer and his butterfly would never leave him. Eventually, she did spread her wings and take off and fly off to do live her butterfly life, leaving one delighted boy in her wake.
[As I type this the adorable boy featured here has done his best to annoy me into stopping work and entertaining him. I’m glad I have these pictures as a reminder not to murder him because I got up early to work. Alone. Also, wanting to murder your kid isn’t that conducive to creativity. Who knew? Ahem.]