The bushes outside my classroom are currently blooming with pretty little white flowers. Since I work in the armpit of the Mojave Desert, this is quite special. These bushes are attracting hummingbirds and one very pretty yellow and black butterfly. Lack of rain met no wildflower display this year, so I often find myself watching the wildlife with sincere appreciation.
This butterfly has been flitting about all week and I knew it was just a matter of time before the kids would see it and try to 'catch' it on our way to the cafeteria.
Sure enough, it was flying around the bushes yesterday and the kids began squealing, "Butterfly! Butterfly!"
A couple of them gave chase and were clapping their hands together in an attempt to stop the poor thing in midair.
"NO!" I admonished in my best teacher voice. "We don't hurt butterflies! Don't touch their wings or they won't be able to fly!"
"Why?" asked Tabatha, who had been hoping for a butterfly kill before lunch just as a matter of principle.
"Because, Tabatha, we don't want to hurt it," I said, leading her back to the line.
With wide brown eyes looking quizzical, she asked, "Why? Are they expensive?"
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