We recently visited Chattanooga’s Tennessee Aquarium. Our goal was to explore Civil War Battlefields, but I loved this bonus stop. Not only did we see fresh and saltwater species along with penguins and lemurs, we enjoyed a butterfly room that let me check off a bucket list item I didn’t know I’d added.
In man-designed eco-niches for fish and other creatures, alligators smiled and posed on Cypress knees, penguins frolicked on ice floes, and moray eels ambushed tiny fish amongst stunning coral reefs. The butterfly room crowned the top floor of the salt water aquarium. To prevent butterfly escapees, humans entered an anteroom before passing into the very humid, very tropical butterfly room. Colorful lepidopterans of all sizes flitted from one gigantic blossom to another or floated on artificially created thermals, entrancing visiting guests.
This happened to be Spring Break in Chattanooga, and crowds packed the exhibits. Their bumping and jostling made it difficult to unobtrusively watch butterflies amongst trees, vines, bushes, and other flora luxuriously growing in that hot, humid room. As I entered, a yellow, red, and black striped butterfly greeted me while it tried to slip into the forbidden anteroom. Soon after, giant electric-blue winged stars of the show captured my attention. Can I tell you how badly I wanted one to land and tickle my fingers with its antennae or feet.
Fighting human hordes, I headed to a big tree in the corner where I’d seen those electric blue flashers perch. I tucked myself at its edge and stilled my heart and body, holding a hand out in case one of those beauties desired a soft-landing zone. I noted one resting with folded wings on the nearby tree trunk. The underside was dark brown decorated with white and cream speckles and circles. I could imagine how delicate those tiny feet would feel.
I stood statue-like long enough other visitors watched to see if a blue butterfly would do more than flap around me. In the meantime, the hubs attempted to snap a photo of one flying near or better yet touching down. Despite their size, they darted fast enough he struggled to match I Phone camera speed to theirs. He managed to capture one fuzzy blue flash near my hand.
Eventually, humidity and the elbowing crowd took its toll, and I was ready to leave. My camera man exited first, striding toward ray and shark displays. I meandered slowly, savoring last glances at magnificent butterflies. The exit operated just like the entrance. A staff member made sure the butterfly room door allowed no trespassers to slip through before humans departed through the outside door to the main floor.
As I took the first deep breath of non-humid, cool air since the butterfly adventure began, the door guard commanded, “Stop!” in a tone quiet but direct. I once again stood statue-still as he crept behind me to unlatch a giant blue butterfly from the bottom of my sweatshirt. It had flapped open to alert him as I exited.
The good news was that I can stand still enough to become a butterfly landing pad. The bad news is I didn’t know my dream had come true. That butterfly rescuer was kind enough to let me snap a very bad picture of that wannabe escapee before returning it to its humid paradise.