It’s said that if a butterfly lands on you, you will have good luck.
This is lovely, silly metaphor for the fact that it’s hard for a butterfly to land on you unless you,
1. Managed to spill some sort of source of glucose or fructose all over yourself and therefore are a walking butterfly feeder
2. The butterfly made a felicitous mistake and so voilà
Butterflies are such weird, amazing little creatures –lovely, fragile, bitter-tasting, striking, metaphorical, and metamorphic insects– that they inspire all manner of fantastic and ritualistic lore (for more, click here); and if you live in the DC area and would like to feel some of that awe and amazement, I highly recommend that you make the trek to the National Museum of Natural History and take a gander.
Because it’s something special, and you’ll be happy you did.
If this exhibit could break through the jaded diffidence of droves of teenagers –there today with their schools because it’s free on Tuesdays and so field trip– who were squealing and staring, slack-jawed, at these delicate little rock stars, then you know that butterflies have power.
Because if a goth-wannabe little girl could hold her finger up for ten minutes, quietly chasing a tiny little insect while hoping it would somehow pose itself on her; and all that while this girl did not let the awkwardness of her age get the better of her, surely these little things can be a balm for what ails you.
They have wings.