So I did not expect a butterfly exhibit to be the thing I keep talking about a week later, and yet here we are. But I wouldn’t expect any less from the South Coast Botanic Garden – we’re passholders and go about once a week!
Full disclosure: I paid out of pocket to go last year, loved it so much that I reached out to them to come back, and South Coast Botanic Garden gifted us tickets to experience SOAR this year. All the gasping, sweating, and butterfly favoritism is genuinely mine.
Okay, before the butterflies, a little announcement.
This post is the very first in a new series I’m starting called Local Leisure. Here’s the idea: I’m always getting asked where to go and what to actually do around here, and I’m always saving spots in my notes app that never see the light of day. So Local Leisure is me finally sharing them, one at a time. It’s my running list of South Bay and SoCal places worth an afternoon, reviewed the honest way, with the real tips, the “here’s what I’d skip,” and enough logistics that you can actually go (not just admire the photos and move on).
Basically: your slightly-extra attorney mom friend who already did the research so you can just show up. Gardens, little restaurants, day trips, the pretty walkable stuff, the weird fun stuff. If it made me want to tell someone about it, it’s going in here.
And we’re kicking it off with SOAR, because a room full of butterflies felt like the right energy to start on. So, welcome to Local Leisure. Pull up a chair.
First, what is SOAR Tropical Butterflies at South Coast Botanic Garden?
The whole thing is built as a little journey. you pass the spot where the butterflies are still tucked into their chrysalises before you ever get to the main event, which sounds like a small detail and is actually my favorite part (more on the cocoons in a sec). Then you step into the enclosure itself, where they’re just… everywhere. on the plants, in the air, occasionally on a stranger’s hat. The whole thing is giving Encanto (yes, I said what I said), all color and flutter and a little bit of “am I in a movie right now?!”
Tickets run about $23 for adults, $19 for seniors and students, and $13 for kids 5 to 12, with the littlest ones cheaper and infants free (!) There’s also a butterfly feeding add-on for a few dollars more, which, spoiler, you want. It’s timed ticketing, so you pick your entry window when you book.
The South Coast Botanic Garden timing you need to know about…(twice)
Here’s what worked, and it’s the tip I’d tattoo on my forearm if I could.
We went last year too, but much earlier in the season. It was lovely, but there were noticeably fewer butterflies. This year we waited until later in the run, went in August, and the difference was wild. Butterflies everywhere you looked. Like…you’d turn your head and there’d be three more you hadn’t noticed. so if you have any flexibility on when you go, later in the season is doing the most. Yes…even if you’re sweating a bit more. It’s worth it.
The second timing note is the entry windows. They send you in on shifts, which I actually appreciated, because it keeps the pavilion from turning into a mosh pit. It does still get busy though, so pick a time that genuinely works for your day and book it ahead. When we were inside I’d guess there were maybe 25 people in there, which sounds fine until you remember the space is small and cozy. 25 people plus hundreds of butterflies in a room is a lot of gentle “oh excuse me” energy, and honestly that’s part of the charm.
The cocoon moment (bring your camera)!
Before you go into the main pavilion you walk past the chrysalises, these tiny little cocoons all lined up, some of them shimmering, some of them clearly about to pop. This year there were some in GOLD!
I got weirdly emotional about it? There’s something about seeing the “before” right next to the “after” that got me. We took a whole bunch of photos here and I’m so glad we did. Nature is so goregous. And if you’re bringing kids, this is a sneaky good teaching moment that requires zero effort from you. The butterflies do all the work. Just make sure you’re ready for it because if you’re in line you may pass them without realizing it. The attendants are pretty good about drawing your attention, though.
The lollipop situation (yes, really)
SOAR is sponsored by Delta, and one of the things they’ve set up is a feed-the-butterflies station where you can pick up a nectar lollipop.
You hold it out, you wait, and if the butterfly gods are feeling generous, one lands right on it. It’s absurdly delightful. This is where the feeding add-on earns its keep, and it’s the shot everyone in your group is going to want, so maybe don’t all crowd the same lollipop like we did.
I didn’t get a photo of the landing BUT I did get the butterflies eating up close!
The part I didn’t expect to love were the people!
Every single person working or volunteering there was so nice. and not customer-service-script nice, the real kind where you can tell they actually love being there.
They were pointing out the prettiest butterflies, telling us which ones just emerged, keeping an eye on the little kids so nobody accidentally squished anything. It changed the whole vibe. A beautiful exhibit run by people who clearly care hits different than a beautiful exhibit run by people watching the clock.
Okay…the honest stuff
Because i’m not going to sell you a fantasy.
It was hot. we went in August and it’s an LA summer, so manage your expectations, wear breathable everything, and bring water. That said, it was not as brutal as I braced for, and the pavilion itself was bearable.
The space is small. if you’re picturing acres of butterfly wonderland, recalibrate. it’s an intimate room, which I loved, but it means it can feel full fast (see: the 25-people thing).
And if you’re coming with a baby or toddler like we were, heads up that strollers aren’t allowed inside the pavilion, so plan your carrier situation accordingly. It’s very doable, just don’t get caught off guard at the door.
Who should actually go?
This is a great outing for families with little kids, for anyone who needs a slow pretty afternoon that isn’t another mall or another screen, and for the friend who’s always looking for the non-obvious LA thing to do. It’s also a low-key gorgeous date if you want something a little different.
If you’re the type who plans whole trips around beautiful, walkable, camera-friendly places (Hi, it me, see also my San Miguel de Allende and Oaxaca posts), SOAR scratches that same itch on a Tuesday afternoon without a passport. more of my favorite cultural little adventures live over here if you want to fall down that rabbit hole.
Quick tips before you book SOAR at South Coast Botanic Garden:
- Go later in the season if you can. More butterflies, fewer regrets.
- Book a timed entry window that fits your day, and don’t wing it on a busy weekend.
- Get the feeding add-on and grab the nectar lollipop.
- Give yourself time at the chrysalises before the pavilion. Don’t rush past the cocoons.
- Dress for heat, bring water, and if you’ve got a baby, wear them (no strollers inside).
- Be nice to the staff, they’re wonderful, and they’ll point you to the good stuff.
Know before you go: SOAR Tropical Butterflies FAQ at South Coast Botanic Garden
The stuff I wish I’d Googled before we went, so you don’t have to:
How much time should I budget?
Honestly less than you’d think. The pavilion itself is small, so the actual butterfly portion is maybe 30 to 45 minutes if you’re lingering and taking photos. But you’re at a whole botanical garden, so give yourself a couple hours if you want to wander the grounds, grab a snack, and not feel rushed. We made an afternoon of it.
What’s the best time of day to go?
earlier entry windows tend to be a little cooler and a little calmer, which matters in August. the butterflies are also more active when it’s warm and sunny, so a late-morning window is a sweet spot: warm enough that they’re flying, early enough that you’re not melting. and again, book a timed slot ahead so you’re not stuck with whatever’s left.
Is there parking?
Yes, hallelujah! (It’s L.A. so this is rare). There’s parking at South Coast Botanic Garden, and it wasn’t a whole thing when we went. Get there a little before your entry window so you’re not speed-walking in with a baby on your hip (ask me how I know).
Is it good for babies and little kids?
Really good, with one asterisk: no strollers inside the pavilion. Bring a carrier if you’ve got a baby. Older kids tend to lose their minds (the good way) over the lollipop feeding, and the chrysalis wall is a sneaky little science lesson. Just coach them early on the “we look, we don’t grab” rule, because the staff are watching and the butterflies are fragile.
Can you touch the butterflies?
You can’t reach out and grab them (please don’t), but they absolutely might land on you, your hat, your lollipop, your kid’s head. That’s the magic. Let them come to you and stay still when they do.
Are tickets refundable?
It’s timed ticketing, so treat your window like a reservation and check their current policy when you book, since these things can change season to season. The short version: pick a time you’ll actually make.
Make a day of it: other South Bay spots
Since this is the first stop on my little Local Leisure list, here’s where I’d point you next if you’re already making the drive out to the peninsula. Terranea for a fancy-feeling lunch at Nelson’s or a walk along the bluffs. The Korean Bell of Friendship for the view and a gorgeous photo op. Point Vicente lighthouse if you want that classic coastal moment. Riviera Village in Redondo Beach if you’d rather pitter patter around little shops and get a coffee.
I’ll be writing these up one by one (that’s the whole point of the series), and if you have a South Bay favorite I need to cover, tell me, I’m collecting!
So, worth it?
For us, completely. It’s compact and it’s a little sweaty and the butterflies do not take direction, and I’d go back tomorrow. There’s something about standing very still in a warm room while something delicate decides whether or not to trust you. It resets a part of your brain that scrolling never will.
If you go, tell me which butterfly landed on you, and whether you cried at the cocoons or you’re just stronger than me. I want to hear it.
And if you want the stuff that’s a little too personal for the grid (the real behind-the-scenes of building a life that has room for random Tuesday butterfly trips), that lives in my newsletter. Come hang out, subscribe here.