Some time ago, maybe about eighteen months or so, a butterfly appeared in one of the rooms at work. It came from nowhere – seemingly – and proceeded to flap around the room terrifying the two girls who were in there.
We had to suspend their game and spend the next ten to fifteen minutes trying to catch it. It gave us a run for our money, but it was captured and released into the outside world.
This afternoon, our main reception area has spontaneously birthed a butterfly. I was watching a game and caught some movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced up but failed to see anything other than more movement, again in the corner of my eye.
At this point I started to fear that I had let a bird in, as I had the window open earlier. And then I thought, obviously, a bat. Because that’s logical. And also a nightmare to remove. Worse than a bitd, for sure. And I’m speaking from the experience of someone who once woke up to find themselves sharing a room with a bat which then took up residency on his sock.
Bloody great unseasonable butterfly. Wings that could break your arms, all that. And I’m trying to watch a team in a room. I lost track of the butterfly.
Then I could hear it. Behind me. Smashing into the window like it was determined to either break the glass or pass through it like David Copperfield with the Great Wall Of China.
I caught it in my hands. Eventually. 2019 is the year of lepidoptera in a hand, for sure. Maybe word’s getting out.
Maybe they come to me now to be held. Like sometimes people who are ridiculously kind to bees find the bees will nest near to them going forward.
Maybe I’m a buttermoth whisperer.