Friday, June 20, 2014

On Today's Walk in Montreal

 
 
 
Overheard on my walk today to the post office. 
 
A young father pushed his little girl in this giant pram. She couldn't have been more than three, curly-haired, cute as a bug, and she was not so much sitting in it as lounging, resting her head on one hand. 
 
As they passed I heard him ask her, "I'm sorry, did you just say you want to fly to Vegas?" 
 
She heaved a big sigh and said,
 
"Someday..." 
 
I died on the spot, as did the father.
 
 

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Flutter-bys in Arizona

When I was little, I called butterflies "flutter-bys" because in my tiny, unformed brain, that was easier to pronounce. However, I maintain it's because it is more accurate than referring to them as flying butter.

I also called high heels "hee hiles" and the couch (chesterfield) was a "fester-eedle" but I digress.

I visited the butterfly museum in Arizona a couple of weeks ago, and it was pretty special. Except for the 102F temperature outside and extreme humidity inside the atrium where the butterflies lived. And the sweaty tourists with freaked out kids who kept ducking and swatting the butterflies like they were missiles.

And of course, this was the trip I did not bring my good camera. However, I had my trusty point and shoot. Settle yourself on the nearest fester-eedle, put your hee hiles up and take a gander, if you're so inclined.


Blue Morpho, the most beautiful one in my opinion, but also the most difficult one to photograph because they never stopped moving. Except this one. Which got tired. Or maybe it was on its last legs.

The King of Butterflies, the Monarch.

Parthenos Sylvia or Clipper Butterfly. I'd like to decorate a room in these colours. I find them very soothing.

Monarch.
Banded Peacock.

Another view of the Blue Morpho.







Arched-wing Cattleheart

This looked like it was made of plastic. It's called, appropriately enough, Greta Oto, the Costa Rica Clearwing.