I went lurking below the stadium seats long after dark, butterfly net in hand, and spilled sodas, spilled nachos, dropped hot dogs, and all sorts of unspeakable trash. Night was long upon us. Early morning twiilght was a thin sheen on the horizon.
I lurked for my prey, ready with my flashlight and my butterfly net.
There, shimering in the glow of my flashlight, the spectacular North American Nightwing Moth. The wings of the moth sparkle with real gold. This mystery of science somehow creates real flecks of gold out of its embryonic mutations. It isn’t much, mind you – only a half a teaspoon full on a real glorious moth – but it is an alchemical miracle unmatched by science or nature.
They are often lost to the eyes of the general public. They are nocturnal, and live in shadows.
These moths are also addicted to a substance in fake nacho cheese. Like heroin-addicts, they hunt for drops of cooled, congealed nacho cheese below the stadiums of the world, where few bookish lepidopterists venture for sporting entertainments.
I captured my moth. It’s body is strictly black – jet black, like the night. The wings shimmer and sparkle with gold.
Another wondrous creature for the bestiary, suckling bits of melted velveeta, and flashing its wings in the dark corner of its cage in my closet.