In 1974, I was camping with a friend, in a 1947 Silver Streak camper we bought together for $400. He and I were in Colorado Rocky Mountains along the Poudre River Gorge. I was a disc jockey there and lived there 3 years when i left my family in Pennsylvania. I was preparing to go to Oregon, to try to get a job at a good radio station, best in the country. They were not answering my letters and tapes, nor anyone's. They got 50 a week, no openings. I decided to buy a camper and drive there and magic them into giving me a job. Before we left Colorado, this one afternoon, on the river, a little orange moth came down. I held out my finger and he landed on my finger. He stayed there about five minutes looking at each other and flew up. Then about two minutes later he came back down on my finger again. I had been talking to him both times. Now he left again and I ran in the trailer and got some sugar and mixed a drop of water and sat down again and he came back and landed on my finger. The other times I saw him suck salt from my finger, his tongue came out. Now he puts his tongue in the drop and I see it get smaller and smaller until gone. By the way as a kid a always played with butterflies, and the small orange ones are the hardest to touch because they are scared and fly away the quickest so this was amazing. In July of 1984 I went camping with friend here in Washington i am telling him the story as we drive the last five miles to the camp ground in the woods. When we get out of the car a little moth of the same type, but the purple variety, flies down, i stick out my finger and he lands. I talk to him, we start taking things out of the car. I want to help, so now I carry things one handed, back and forth from the car and the moth doesn't fly away, just stays, maybe 6 trips. I finally said, "moth this is fun but my arm is tired." and he flew away.