Tucked In: The Butterfly Sanctuary

Hello and welcome to this tucked in tale on Insight Timer.

My name is Mike and I invite you to get comfortable under the covers,

Take a few deep breaths in and out,

And settle in as we listen to a soothing bedtime story entitled The Butterfly Sanctuary Sweet Dreams.

Ella paused at the north entrance of the St.

Louis Zoo,

Panting slightly in the humid summer heat as she patted down the contents of her favorite leather messenger bag.

Her fingers felt the outline of her favorite sketchbook and pencil,

Carefully tucked in against her water bottle.

As her afternoon snack,

A bag of her favorite almonds crinkled satisfyingly beneath her touch,

And satisfied that everything was as she left it,

She looked up from her bag to blink slowly at the sight of children climbing over the rocks stacked in the center of the concrete courtyard,

Which was framed about by the brilliant blue and teal of the buildings arising from the heat.

She gazed over the square walls,

The triangular rooftops hiding the wonders within,

Until her eyes met the inscription on the front of the building,

St.

Louis Zoo,

Animals Always.

Ella felt her lips turn up in a gentle smile.

Animals always,

She thought,

That has a nice ring to it.

Then,

With a nod to the children pausing their play long enough to let her pass,

She stepped inside the door.

As soon as she passed into the welcome shadow of the bright blue building,

Ella was blessed with a breath of refreshingly chilled air washing over her face and catching tendrils of her long red hair.

She slowed her step,

Taking a moment to cool down after her trek in from the rear of the near-empty parking lot.

Though the zoo was unusually barren of guests,

Save the odd family bringing their children to run out their energy surrounded by regal beasts of the world,

She preferred to park near the back,

The no-ding zone she fondly recalled of her mother's designation.

Wiping a bead of sweat from her brow,

She found her way to the large map in the center of the room and looked it over.

The Insectarium,

Insectarium,

She muttered to herself,

Trailing her finger down the map.

Aha,

There it is,

Right next to the building.

The teenager looked out the door leading to the zoo and saw it immediately,

A large stone structure with a curious glass bubble peering out from the rear.

And though she had been here dozens of times with her mother and brother,

She'd never stepped foot inside the Insectarium.

But now that she was alone,

She was ready to peer into the world of insects,

Those tiny,

Beautiful creatures that brought her hours of peaceful watching when they landed on her shoe or crawled across the pages of her sketchbook.

Ella made her way to the door,

Gasping a little when the heavy warmth of the Missouri summer set about her shoulders once more.

Shaking her head,

She passed beneath the archway of the small courtyard on her way,

And then,

For just a moment,

Stopped and perked up.

There it was again,

A noise in the distance,

The trumpeting of elephants and the chugging of the train not twenty feet away.

And though it was unseasonably warm outside,

Ella felt herself drawn to the promise of a glimpse of life on the savannah,

Particularly,

She thought,

As she wandered over to the empty train station to her right,

Of the elephants.

Sure,

It's warm,

Ella thought to herself,

But why not enjoy the cool breeze on such a beautiful day?

As soon as the train chugged to a full stop,

Ella hopped on board,

Sitting a full car back from the engine so as to enjoy an unobstructed view of the park.

Within moments,

The engineer tugged the train whistle,

And the mostly empty train grumbled into motion,

The soothing chugga-chugga-chugga settling on the girl's mind like a comforting blanket.

Lost in thought,

The warm breeze ruffling her hair,

Ella's eyes roamed over the elephant yard as the train rolled slowly by.

A pair of adults paced over the grassy knoll of their enclosure,

Trumpeting and rumbling to each other as they guarded the trembling trio of babes splashing in their shallow pool.

To the right,

Ella's attention was drawn to another enclosure,

This one behind glass,

A cheetah savanna complete with three crafty cats lounging in the trees and lying in the tall grass,

Panting to cool themselves off in the humidity of northern Missouri.

The train chugga-chugga-chugged on,

With Ella admiring the lush greenery surrounding each exhibit,

All manner of plants and flowers and trees in various species of edibility and reproduction decorating the landscape.

Some of them hung over the walls and fences of the enclosures and vice versa,

Providing welcome shade to the animals within,

While others towered high over the few tourists present with the cameras,

Offering welcome relief from the shimmering sun.

As the train travelled beyond the savanna,

Ella sat upright as they passed the water-laden territory of the pink hippos,

Where the giant beasts lurked in the muddy water,

Only their eyes and ears present to give them away.

And then came the rhinos,

Rolling lazily side to side in the muddy pools they called home,

Their massive flanks caked with mud as they protected themselves from the heat.

But it was the next enclosure that Ella looked forward to,

And it did not disappoint.

As the train approached the south entrance of the zoo,

Ella hopped off and wandered over to the edge of the water-filled pen.

She peered over the fence,

Straining her eyes for any sight of the beloved creatures.

And then,

With a chitter,

The first otter leapt from the water,

Its brown coat shimmering in the sunlight.

Ella held her breath as the beautiful animal splashed down into the pond and bobbed upright again,

Clutching a clam in its tiny paws.

The otter looked at her,

Then chittered insistently,

As if to say,

What are you doing here?

The insectarium is that way.

You're right,

You're right,

Ella said,

Straightening up.

I came here for a purpose,

Didn't I?

And with those softly spoken words,

The teenager turned to the right and crossed the brick path to the bare insectarium.

As she approached the building,

She stopped,

Not a little taken aback by the sight of an eight-foot-tall structure in the shape of a black-horned beetle.

Surrounding the beetle on all sides,

With a few brave individuals climbing ever more the stone walls of the building,

A line of larger-than-life plastic and plaster ants appeared frozen in their task,

As though they rested in silent repose.

With a shake of her head,

Ella stepped around the trail of ants into the building,

Breathing a small sigh as the refreshingly cool air swirled around her.

She stopped for a moment just inside the entryway,

Pulling her water bottle from her messenger bag to take a deep swig.

And then,

Tucking the bottle back in place,

She trekked deeper into the wondrous land of the insects.

The first stop was just feet inside the door,

A tall plastic tree with a glass window on one panel.

Ella peered inside and smiled at the sight that met her.

Row after row of hexagonal chambers,

Clustered about by hard-working bees,

Diligently depositing their pollen deliveries into each port.

If she looked closely enough,

She could almost make out the tiny,

Buzzing dances of each little creature,

The room filled with a soothing hum as they happily carried out their life's work.

After a few moments of tranquility,

Beset upon her mind watching the near mindlessness of the bees going about their tasks,

Ella shuffled into the next room,

Lined wall to wall with all manner of glass cages and fake trees,

And buzzing softly with the insect life they contained.

The first enclosure Ella approached held a strange creature,

One that took a moment of puzzling to identify among the thick jungle of leaves.

The dragon-headed katydid,

Ella read on the plaque.

She looked up at the curious insect,

A squat,

Green critter with long legs and antennae,

Its head decorated with half a dozen tiny horns between its eyes.

It stared back at her,

Content and uncurious,

And drew its antennae into its mouth for a quick bath.

The next two cases brought a different type of fascination for the teenager,

A pair of spiders,

An orb-weaver in one,

And a tarantula in the other.

The orb-weaver was a long-legged creature,

Gangly and striped,

Its legs moving meticulously as it wove its web between a riot of fern leaves and the glass wall of the cage.

As Ella looked on,

The spider moved into the center of the web,

And then appeared to watch her through the glass,

Its glittering eyes welcoming and curious.

And after a moment,

Ella stepped on to the next tank,

Where a black and red striped tarantula rested quietly in a small indent in the dirt.

No doubt keeping cool in the humid Missouri weather.

Its eyes turned to the girl,

And then its large round body heaved upright and began to crawl slowly,

Following Ella the length of the cage.

She stopped,

And then turned back,

Taking a few steps back,

And watched as the critter stepped cautiously over the twigs and leaves of its enclosure to match her step.

Ella smiled,

Pressing her hand gently to the glass,

And greeted the spider.

Hello,

Little one,

She said.

The spider looked up at her.

I'm glad you like me.

I like you too,

But I'm really here for the butterfly's little one.

The spider stared a moment more,

And then,

With a twitch of its mandibles,

Crawled back into its dirt enclave and settled down for a nap.

Smiling gently,

Ella moved down the line,

A little faster now,

But taking a moment to identify and locate each insect as it went about its day.

There was the ant enclosure,

Filled with teams of bustling,

Busy ants that marched meticulously up and down the plastic piping of their home to build their nest atop the small tree within.

Next,

Crawling over the red rocks and dried terrain of its heated home,

A pair of black and yellow assassin bugs made their way to the pool of water,

Shimmering temptingly in the center of their home.

There was the Peruvian fire stick,

A black and red stick bug,

With a maroon-colored head and long,

Thin limbs,

Ignoring Ella entirely as it made its slow trek up the sides of the glass,

Over a pair of thick,

Oval-shaped leaves.

And though Ella enjoyed her brief glimpse into the lives of each of these tiny,

Busy creatures,

It wasn't them she was ultimately here to visit.

Rather,

It was the small,

Unassuming doorway at the rear of the building she was here to see,

The pièce de résistance of her visit,

The Mary Ann Lee butterfly wing.

With a smile of greeting to the attendant by the door,

Ella adjusted her bag and stepped into the geodesic dome.

The first thing she noticed was the sunlight streaming in through the glass ceiling and walls on all sides,

Capturing the warmth of the sun's rays to build a tropical atmosphere that was,

Somehow,

Warm,

But neither stifling nor unbearably humid.

The confines of the dome itself was overgrown with all manner of life,

Tropical flowers and ferns that bloomed up from the ground in their quest to reach the sky,

Moss growing along the walls and rocky outcroppings in strategic clusters of green and teal,

And a variety of flowering trees,

Their branches sweeping low under their weight of their spring beauty.

But as beautiful as the domed jungle was,

It was the flitting of the butterflies that drew her attention.

Small,

Fluttering splashes of color met Ella's eyes,

Dancing from flower to flower,

Resting for mere moments on the leaves of a tree or fern or bush,

Before flapping elegantly to the next.

There were black and blue-winged butterflies decorated in speckles of white,

Their long,

Rotund bodies nearly humming with energy.

To her left,

A pair of gorgeous black and white butterflies appeared to waltz in midair before landing on the same flower,

A puffball of pink tendrils that soon coated its visitors in fluffy pollen.

They were joined,

Nearby,

By a small group of yellow butterflies,

Delicately dressed with black and white spots,

That landed on the pink petals of a blooming tree.

As Ella watched in quiet fascination,

A swarm of bright orange moths,

With orange fuzzy bodies and even orange antennae,

Fluttered by,

Stirring up a gentle breeze that left the rest flapping their wings slowly.

The girl found her footsteps pattering softly over the stone path in the midst of the jungle,

Stopping only to admire the numerous cocoons hanging from the underside of many a tree and bush,

As the next generation of butterflies prepared to greet the world.

To her surprise,

The orange moths led Ella to a small pond,

Built of stone,

With a short waterfall and even a few goldfish swimming about at the base.

Over the swirling water,

A cluster of damselflies and dragonflies danced their courtly dances,

Flittering back and forth over the water,

Until,

With a breathtaking grace,

They alighted on the lily pads bobbing slowly over the water.

They were joined soon thereafter by a handful of red and black ladybugs,

Crawling over and around the lily pads in search of a tasty meal of aphids.

But,

Finding none,

They took to the air and flew off,

Landing a few feet away in a bed of ferns.

Ella found herself smiling at the sight,

These beautiful,

Delicate creatures fluttering their wings together in the breeze,

Whirled up by the motion of the waterfall.

But as she reached into her bag for her book to settle in,

Another butterfly caught her eye,

A creature with wings like stained glass fitted and bejeweled with spots of red and black and white,

Nearly translucent in its stillness,

Before it flapped into the air and landing with all the gentility of a whisper on Ella's hand.

She brought her arm to her face for a long moment,

Admiring the red-dipped wingtips opening and closing peacefully,

The tickling brush of the butterfly's long nose over her hand as it sought a stray drop of sugar.

And then,

Finding nothing,

It launched silently into the air and flittered away again to rest on a bed of moss,

Its wings opening,

Closing,

Opening,

Closing in a steady rhythm.

With a contented sigh,

Ella felt her legs give way beneath her as she sat down on the small stone bench by the waterfall and looked around at the sanctuary in which she found herself.

Her hands wandered into her bag to tug out her sketchbook,

A leather-bound affair lovingly handcrafted by an artist not unlike herself.

Gazing around at her serene surroundings,

Ella opened her sketchbook to the next blank page and put her pencil to paper,

Her fingers of their own volition tracing the outline of a butterfly's wing.

And it was here,

Amid the silence of the insects,

The rippling of the water,

The rustle of ferns against the trees,

That Ella found her peace.