3.3.26 | Leaping for Lepidoptera
Showdown on the wild streets of N. Dakota, circa 1995
I jumped out of a moving bus once … to catch a butterfly.
It was 1995, on the gravel back roads on the great plains of North Dakota. It was a short bus, and my friend and I were standing in the doorway, with our butterfly nets in hand, and yes, the door was open. We were cruising at a gentle speed, on the hunt with our high school field biology class.
Looking back in my mind, it's totally crazy. The teacher was driving the bus towards a location that would allow us to gather more insects and plants for our collections. I'm not sure why it was okay that the door was open. Certainly they don't let you do those sorts of things now, and I'm pretty sure they didn't let you do those sorts of things then. But, I'm telling you, it was real. I didn't dream this up.
I saw a delicately winged creature in the distance, and without even thinking, I leapt out of the bus, yelling "MONARCH!" I hit the gravel feet first and then the laws of physics took over. I somersaulted backwards a couple of times, righted myself, and then bolted toward the field in hopes that I might catch that beautiful lepidoptera. The bus came to a dusty halt and all of my classmates stared out the windows, mouths agape.
The butterfly got away.
Every once in a while I think back to the image of that 17-year-old Becca. In some ways, that moment epitomizes several traits that I am known for, some positive and some negative. Certainly there is a large helping of impulsivity in that action, along with some gumption and athleticism. But ultimately, when I am in need of a reminder of my own strength and ability to keep going, this is the image that my mind conjures.
I remember my mom telling me at one point in my teenage years that life just gets harder as you get older. I didn't want to believe her. But she is an intelligent (and very frank) woman, and it turns out that getting older isn't for the faint of heart. There are many tasks ahead in this adult life that I would rather not tackle. I would rather cruise on the back roads searching for beautifully winged creatures (without a net this time). Perhaps I should carve out some time to do just that.
In the meantime, the work of being a business owner, pastry chef, child of aging parents, decent citizen of the earth and, of course, mother to a very precious poodle, must be the priority. I hope everyone in this world has their own version of leaping for Monarchs—a reminder of one's stronger self.
—Becca