I must have been around 4 or five years old. It was summer and I was sitting with my granny in the garden watching the butterlies. I always wanted to catch one and this very day I managed it. It was sitting on a flower, wings closed above is head an I just walked up to it and crabbed it with two fingers. So happy that I ran up to my granny showing it to her. The next thing I noticed was a strange power on my fingertips. It had the the same colours as the the wings of the butterfly. My Grandpa walked by and explained to me that the butterfly now has to die, because of my touch. I was devastated and since then I only observe them. This red admiral is probably on his big trip and seemed to be as curious as me. He only flew off when I got to close, circling me and landing again in short distance, observing me.