All of a Flutter

By Róisín Curé in Kilcolgan. Co. Galway

Yesterday I was doing the usual thing – trying to listen to my younger daughter tell me in her adorable way all the things she got up to at school, whilst at the same time getting bits of work done – and succeeding in doing neither particularly well. Then this butterfly woke up from its winter nap: I’d seen it many times, upside down on the ceiling of the cloakroom. It landed on my messy piles of paper under a lamp, where I suppose it liked the light and heat. It looked a bit groggy, so myself and my little girl dissolved some golden syrup in a honey jar lid. It would have been honey, except that the jar had been knocked off the countertop an hour earlier, and all that remained was the lid.

We watched as the butterfly approached the lid…and turned away…then went back, uncurled its long tongue (proboscis, I know) and poked it into the sweet solution. We were really excited and I called my son, who is always thrilled to have a distraction from his homework. I also told my teenage daughter, but she was watching far more interesting things on a tiny, flickering screen, and had no interest. Then the poor butterfly got what I can only assume was a sugar rush, flying like a maniac all over the place, eventually staying still long enough for me to grab this sketch.

“Oh no, what have I done?” I said. “He’s got lots of energy and is looking for a lady now.”

“Don’t be so gross,” said the uninterested teenager, as anything her dad or I say in “that” vein is disgusting.

“Maybe it’s looking for a boy butterfly,” said my husband, “maybe it’s a girl.” That didn’t go down any better.

The butterfly is sleeping it off somewhere today. I told the kids in my art class to draw a live animal for their homework – there are lots of cows, sheep and horses to draw around here, not to mention cats, dogs, chickens and fish.

I wonder if any of them will have drawn an insect!

More of my work here.