I've recently been spending a lot of time with my grandad, Tony. I always knew that when he was younger he collected butterflies, but I never knew that my dad and his brothers were also fascinated.
I was round his house the other day and asked to see his collection, he keeps them all in 2 grand cabinets in his office.
The room always smells the same, of moth balls, paper and ink. It takes a little getting used to but once he opened the draws showing millions of butterflies I was overwhelmed. I remember him showing me them when I was much younger, but I had never appreciated how much time he had spent maintaining them and presenting them. Underneath every butterfly was a small white note, listing the name of the butterfly and where he had caught it.
My grandad has recently been diagnosed with dementia but for nearly 2 hours he listed the latin names for each butterfly and told me stories of family holidays when he would sneak lava into the wardrobe and breed rare butterflies. He told me which butterflies I could catch on the Epsom Downs and showed me butterflies he had collected which were not even in the national butterfly journal because they were so rare.
After talking for hours I asked him, if he was a butterfly which would he be?
The Camberwell Beauty
He said it was because they are the rarest butterfly and one has not been spotted in around 6 years and that if I am to see one I should know how lucky I am.
I would like to be a Peacock Butterfly
But it seem I am not the only one to be inspired....
