A few years ago, under the guidance of a famous lepidopteran entomologist named Rudy Matani, I cultivated butterflies for a natural resource conservation group.
The trouble is that I don’t know much about butterflies. My previous research subjects were mainly birds and lizards. Because the research funds are pitifully small, and I have just won the custody of the two children, I am too busy to take care of both. Before Dr. Matani found me, I had planned to move back to Austin to live with my mother. So, this job is a life-saving straw for me.
The butterfly I am cultivating is a butterfly species estimated to be extinct a few years ago-the Palos Verdes blue butterfly, which was accidentally discovered by Dr. Matani a few months ago in an abandoned oil refinery in San Pedro of. On this day, I walked into the incubation room as usual. Under the fluorescent light, the chrysalis is “sleeping” on rows of small plastic plates. The chrysalis is very small, with brown particles.
”Unfortunate species.” I said to myself when examining the chrysalis. I feel like an unfortunate species. When can I get a degree? When can I get a real job? When can I have enough money to buy a house? I feel worried about these every day.
I picked up a plastic dish and put it under the light. Suddenly, there was a particle in motion. I moved my eyes closer and found that the pupa shell was bulging outward, and it seemed to be breaking. My heart is speeding up, has this moment arrived? A crack appeared in the pupa shell. After a few seconds, the crack widened, and a thin and delicate thread appeared in front of my eyes as an insect leg. The legs are shaking and they start to stretch out. Slowly, hesitantly, a butterfly with folds on its wings appeared. It stood on the residual shell, shaking, trying to maintain the balance of the body, and then spread its wings. My breath is fast. The translucent blue wings are not yet as big as a 25-cent coin, but its beauty is stunning and even breathless. Soon, the butterfly flapped its wings and flew in the breeding room. I don’t have time to appreciate it. The butterflies in the whole room have begun to hatch. After hatching from the shell, the Palos Verdes blue butterfly survived in this world as a butterfly for only four days. How hard these four days are! A week later, I returned to the incubation room again, this time feeding the creeping caterpillars. Each caterpillar means a new year ’s work-please take care of the children, drive the broken car back and forth between San Fernando and San Pedro, and delay the submission of the thesis again . Sometimes, I really want to quit the project, but if I really quit, life will become more difficult, so I clenched my teeth and persevered.
I watched a caterpillar trying to crawl towards the place where I just dropped the grass leaves. Soon, it will weave its pupa shell, then lie down, motionless for almost a year, and finally break out of the pupa and become a beautiful blue butterfly.
What a miraculous transformation! Like death and rebirth. How I wish I could do the same. It was not until 2006 that the number of Palos Verdes blue butterflies reached stability. In the same year, Dr. Matani retired and the Los Angeles Urban Wilderness Group took over the project. They appointed me as the sole person in charge of breeding the Palos Verdes Blue Butterfly. At this time, I have purchased a two-bedroom apartment for me and my two children. My thesis has been completed and I have become a lecturer at two universities.
Not long ago, I drove a new car to the cliffs of Palos Verdes coast not far from the new Butterfly House. When spring comes, with the help of 20 volunteers, I will put 4,700 Palos Verdes blue butterflies back to nature on the cliff, so that the long-lost wonders can be reproduced on the earth again. And I, like them, will start a new life after experiencing the test and transformation of time.
