The Fallen Stones: Chasing Butterflies, Discovering Mayan Secrets, and Looking for Hope Along the Way

by Diana Marcum

repartee

histrionic

“Leave me alone. Don’t follow me,” I hissed and ran down the beach to our sad little shack that he’d booked because he only looks at the photos and doesn’t read 227 comments.

The human brain perceives color faster than almost anything, faster than shape or movement. It’s a neurological process—we’re wired for color,

stelae

an air of both mischief and a slight sorrow.

The exhibits these butterfly enthusiasts and lepidopterists built created a demand for pupae, which created jobs in the rain forest and other places that did not involve logging or other industry that harmed the environment. Their work helped preserve native habitats all over the world, because to breed butterflies, you needed butterfly host and feeding plants. The butterflies in captivity protected the land for wild butterflies and other creatures.

In today’s environment, butterflies are the celebratory confetti tossed in the air when the plants and air and water and the rest of the insect world are healthy. If you get it right for butterflies, you have it right for the rest of the ecosystem.

obeah.

ebullient

It was odd how, wherever I went, the universe gave me a highly industrious friend. It was like I was supposed to be inspired to hop to it.

I began brushing my teeth and grew angry. It wasn’t the first time brushing my teeth had led me to a fit. Think about it: brushing your teeth properly takes a solid two minutes with nothing to do but stew, and on top of that, you’re kind of already making a sneer and shaking your fist.

In 2007, scientists at Georgetown discovered memories could be retained through metamorphosis.

Metamorphosis begins with a process called histolysis. Enzymes dissolve a caterpillar into liquid, a soup of proteins. Then a group of specialized cells called histoblasts use that goo to reconstruct a butterfly or a moth.

Legends and myths, they have such staying power.

escabeche

There was oatmeal in a pot. Its glutinous globs spilled over the edge. There were raisins in a box. There were no jungle flowers. So, I thought, this was to be my life. No romantic highs. No raisin hearts. Just a bowl of nourishing gruel served from a pot. This is what happens when you get old.

Soon after, the empire’s cities were abandoned, and a vast, complex, advanced civilization disappeared. Because, and I say this in a higher register with ever-quickening words: how-long-can-a-society-that-destroys-the-natural-world-and-systematically-oppresses-the-masses-and-sacrifices-human-lives-and-subverts-the-very-essence-of-all-that-was-once-held-sacred-survive? Excuse me, I may have misdirected my burning rage by a millennia or so.

When he was a kid, he’d dreamed of being called Mike. Baseball players, apparently, were predominantly named Mike when Moody was a child. Another friend of mine recalls wishing to be named Celery, although she can’t remember why.

I pulled open my toothbrush holder and out streamed hundreds of tiny black ants. I screamed and threw the plastic case, hitting a spiderweb. I felt like I was having a panic attack. I might have been. One theory is that your body releases histamine in response to a bite, setting off the itching reaction. When your histamine levels are too high, there is a natural release of adrenaline to counteract the histamine. Adrenaline can make your pulse race. They’ve also found high levels of histamine in the bloodstreams of people suffering from schizophrenia.

“I don’t know what to do,” I said again, closing my eyes like it was a prayer. I thought of something my grandmother Irene had told me. It was in the context of house cleaning, a skill I’d never mastered, but wisdom translates to more than one subject. “When you don’t know what to do—do the thing in front of you,” she had said.

Maybe hope is something you find along the way when you just keep going.

ice cream: a force for good in a morally ambiguous world.

The idea that every blade needs to be mowed, branch chipped, bug sprayed, and leaf blown into the neighbor’s yard is not compatible with nature. Nature is messy. Nature does not make the bed every morning.