The butterfly exhibit at the zoo was my favorite part of the whole thing. I know that butterflies aren't as exotic as the giraffes or elephants, but they spark my interest so much. You can walk into the giraffe exhibit and the giraffes will look exactly the same as they did the previous time you were there. With butterflies, there is different shapes and colors every time you go. Some are dull, with black or brown wings that can be large or small. Others are big and vibrant in colors, that fly around and make the children "oooh" as they chase it around.
Each butterfly has a different memo it gives off. They show beauty in different ways. No matter what they look like, butterflies always seem to be gorgeous. Even though they're all different, each of them show their own beauty. I wish humanity was as accepting to humans as they were to butterflies. You always see people that think butterflies are cool because they're all so different, but aren't humans different too? No one really understands when I explain this to them, but this is what sparks my interests in butterflies.
Sometimes when I go to the zoo, some butterflies are dead. It's really sad to see. The other ones continue flying around and landing on things, while some lie on the ground and wait for workers to swipe them up to get rid of. They're such fragile creatures, I'm not sure if it's even reasonable to have an exhibit for them.
I look around the exhibit, admiring the amount of children here with their parents, enjoying the small insects flutter around the exhibit. One man caught my eye. He looked afraid of them, but his daughter was infatuated with them. She was smiling and giggling and reaching her hand out to them, as her dad pushed them away when they got close. I reach out my hand to one of the butterflies, letting it crawl onto my finger. I walk over to the man and I place it on his shoulder.
"It won't bite, promise," I joke. He chuckles, lightly tapping it so it flies away. "Why are you so afraid of them?"
"Not afraid, just don't like tiny bugs with little legs crawling on me," he says, grabbing his daughters hand before she runs off. "Stay here, Gracie," he says to her. She groans.
"Who is this angel?" I ask, crouching down to get closer to her height. She smiles brightly at me.
"I'm Gracie!" She shouts. "I love the bugs!" I giggle, reaching out to let one land on me. I pull it close to her and she looks at it with a giant smile across her face. "Can I touch?" She whispers.
"You can, but it'll probably fly off," she shakes her head, leaving it alone and just staring at it. "Here, stay still," I say, reaching for her hand and letting it transfer from me to her. She smiles.
"Dad, look!" She says, moving her arm quickly to show her father, but the motion scared it and it flew off.
"It went away, Gracie!" He exclaims. She throws her arms in the air exaggeratedly. Her dad laughs. I stand back up and reach out my hand.
"I'm Mitch," I say. He smiles and shakes my hand lightly.
"Scott," he says. "I'm guessing you don't work here, you don't have a uniform on." He observes.
"I don't," I say. "But I do come a lot. I love these little creatures," I motion to the butterflies around us.
"Well, Gracie was excited for giraffes, want to come along?" He asks. "Unless you're here with someone, then I wouldn't want to take you."
"I'm not and I'd love to," I say with a smile, following him and his daughter out of the butterfly exhibit. "Where is Gracie's mommy?" I ask.
"Who knows?" Scott replies. "I'm gay, so I had to adopt her," he explains.
"Oh," I say. "Didn't mean to say anything wrong."
"You're fine, I get it a lot." He reassures with a smile. He watches Gracie intently, making sure she doesn't run off. "Gracie, giraffes are this way." He says and points another direction.
