We’ve been raising caterpillars and butterflies for the past three weeks. We’ve become experts on Painted Lady Butterflies, and have read about, drawn, modelled and recently watched a fantastic @curiositysteam documentary on their migration from Morocco to Europe.
It’s been a remarkable experience watching my Sonshine delight over their transformation at each stage. The morning of the day of each new stage was literally a cause for celebration. As for the day the first butterfly that emerged… Put it this way: we hardly did anything but stare, for hours.
Letting the butterflies go this evening however, was rather anticlimactic! First, they wouldn’t come out, then when they finally did, we blinked and vamoose! They didn’t even linger for a good photo for old time’s sake.
Someone please tell me that kids leaving home is nothing this. Not sure what I was expecting; a linger on a finger or tickle on a nose perhaps, or a rest in our garden or something. Gosh, butterflies nowadays, so ungrateful.
Bear with me, I must be having withdrawals. It was an intense three weeks of nursing. To think, I wasn’t even the foster parent!
