A few years ago they built a Butterfly Conservatory along the Niagara River ... right next to the Botanical Gardens site. I thought it would be rather neat to wander through the tropical, humid and exotic display to have a closer look at some beautiful and rare species of these winged beauties. The butterflies are not enclosed... they fly freely throughout the building at all times. The brochure suggested that one should wear brightly colored clothing if one hoped to have butterflies alight upon their person. Red or yellow was preferred by the butterflies, it said. I chose to wear a red blouse and hoped for the best...

The humidity wraps around you like a warm, wet blanket as you enter the conservatory... the moisture in the air is necessary to promote healthy breeding activity for the butterflies. There are bubbling waterfalls and massive ferns growing along the dripping brick walls... pots of orchids and stands of bamboo placed here and there. The feeding centers consist of large porcelain dishes filled with orange slices. It's a very hushed setting... the butterflies wing their way soundlessly in a lazy, zig zag motion all around you. I was in the process of settling a perpetual smile upon my face when a piercing scream broke the reverie. And then another shriek bounced off the wet, brick walls... even louder than the first.

The shrieks elongated into pitiful cries for help... I distinctly heard, "Bernie! Bernie!! Get them off me!" I turned around to see a woman crouched down on the stone path... violently waving the conservatory brochure above her head. She was wearing a t-shirt purchased next door at the botanical gardens. A t-shirt that was, essentially, a digital photograph of vast flowerbeds in vivid, living color. The butterflies took notice immediately and zeroed in for a closer inspection. Butterflies... not killer bees or hornets or bats. I don't think she ever read the brochure she was using to fend off the harmless and colorful bandits who found her irresistable in the way that only butterflies would... and I wished that I could trade my red blouse for her t-shirt...

Thanks so very much for the kind feedback you guys left under "Oak Leaves Playing Marbles at Midnight"... I had forgotten about some of the names of long-lost marbles... and it made me smile to read that you had not. Thank you for taking the time to stop in and have a look at this one... I apologize for the ramblings... they just happen... :) Hugs! Helen