Butterflies that live 1 day. How long do butterflies live: the lifespan of winged beauties. More on the fandom "Originals"

On an early, warm June morning, my friend and I decided to swim in the Moscow River. It was not far from Kuntsevo, where a dense forest grows on the high, steep right bank of the river.

Quiet and windless. Not a soul around. And on the opposite bank something incomprehensible was happening. There were thousands of fluffs floating in the air.

June snowstorm? No. These are flocks of graceful mayfly butterflies with transparent mesh wings, like a dragonfly, and a thread-like tail. A mayfly butterfly has just fledged. She's lucky. What a day! The sky is clear.

Almost all mayfly butterflies (there are 1,500 species of them) live for one day. True, there are species that exist for several days, several hours and even several minutes. But in general, mayflies live up to their name. Their larvae are more durable, they develop for two or three years. But these are larvae, it still “doesn’t count”...

Mayflies do not need food, although they do have a stomach and intestines. They do not need digestive organs; they are filled with air. This butterfly has no mouth and will never drink a single drop of nectar in its entire life. She probably doesn't have time for that. Hard to say. Once upon a time, in the very distant past, the ancestors of mayflies may have drank and ate something.

How will the mayfly butterfly live its only day?

One day in the life of butterflies is like a fairy tale. Gathering in large flocks in the first minutes of their birth, they set off on a “celebratory” flight. Rhythmically, sometimes rising up, sometimes falling down, mayflies circle above the river, performing dances in the air.

I saw this “ball”. Butterflies, as if caught by an unexpected gust of wind, fly like snowflakes, but do not fall to the ground. A moment - and the males began a whirlwind flight. But female butterflies burst into the thick of the “blizzard”, get close to the dancer, and the couples disappear into the distance.

The male dies first, and the mayfly soon flies to the water and, at the end of the only day of its life, lays up to 10 thousand eggs. Not all of her offspring will survive - most of them will be eaten by fish.

Larvae are born from the eggs. They either continue to develop in the water or burrow into the mud. Some build their burrows on the shore, others crawl under rocks, and still others live among plants. While the larva matures, it manages to shed its chitinous clothes twenty times, or even more. And only then comes the time of transformation - the time of birth of the mayfly.

From larvae living in calm waters, an adult insect is born in an unusual way. Gases accumulate in the space between the cover of the larva and the body of the future insect, as well as in its stomach and intestines. The larva inflates as if balloon, and floats to the surface. It turns out that this is when it came in handy digestive organs.

And here the skin is already “bursting at all the seams,” and the mayfly butterfly is born right there. She sits on her larval shell, like on a tiny boat, dries out and gains strength.

When will she take off?

This is what I didn’t know. One day I began to follow a floating “ship” with a passenger on top. It took no more than a minute to see a rare sight. Suddenly the skin on the back of the butterfly burst, at first it seemed to me that the mayfly had died for some reason... But in fact, the insect had its first and last molt after birth. Soon, after two or three attempts, a fully grown mayfly took off and immediately disappeared in a general stream of white living snowflakes.

One day - the entire life of a mayfly butterfly is lived. Her offspring were left without “supervision.” But be that as it may, from 10 thousand eggs many butterflies will be born. The species will flourish.

Not all animals can afford such “carelessness.” Not everyone has such an abundance of embryos. So you have to take care and protect your offspring.

The case is described with the client's permission. Name and some details have been changed.

– I don’t know why I came to you. My friend recommended it, she is coming to you from Ventspils. It's a long way to chat. So I arrived. Maybe because there is nothing to do... I can guess what you will tell me.

- And what?

- Well, I’m having a midlife crisis and all that. Maybe that's true. Where do I begin?

– Why would you want to?

- I don't know. Ask me.

– What do you want me to ask you?

– Well, you have some standard questions.

To be honest, I have a few, not exactly standard, but quite common ones that I ask clients at the beginning of the first meeting. However, in this situation, I understood that I would have time to ask them, but not now, not as a formality that would pleasantly distract from something more important.

– You drove to me from another city, spent two and a half hours of your time, and will spend the same amount on way back, plus an hour of time here and payment for me to ask you some standard questions?

- No. Don't want. I don't know what I want at all. From you, from this consultation.

– Is this situation somewhat similar to your life?

Alla (let's call her that here) nods. Then he starts talking. And almost without pauses, without waiting for questions and practically without looking at me. She talks about how she was married twice (“both times she left on her own”), that she has been living with a man for the last three years, but doesn’t want to officially be his wife (“You know, apparently it’s a bad omen for me”), that she works remotely and in a flexible schedule (“I don’t want to be on a leash”), which does not maintain contact with parents living in another country.

“Yes, and I have cancer,” she says, almost at the door, “But that’s okay. I have reconciled with him and am living.”

At the next meeting, I return to the phrase thrown at the door.

– Last time, in passing, “at the door,” you said that you had cancer.

– I live with cancer. I've been seeing him for six years. At first, when I found out, I thought, well, that’s it. It wasn't scary. Or I didn’t feel fear, I didn’t let it take over me. It was just terribly disappointing why it was so early.But now I realized that not so soon. My cancer generally helps me - it reminds me all the time - live in the moment, live “here and now”. Although I am not much different from you - you also don’t know when you will die. Maybe earlier than me.

- May be.

– Yes, and it was after I found out my diagnosis that I began to truly live. I got divorced then for the first time. I took up tango. A whirlwind romance began - no looking back, no doubts, everything was like the last time.I married my second husband two months after we met - what to lose. True, we divorced quickly. Yes, and I changed jobs. Now I take various orders that I can complete in a short time. I work via the Internet. I've reviewed a lot. I used to want to buy an apartment, but now I live perfectly well in a rented one. Why burden yourself?

– I hear that there is so much in your life that is temporary, even short-term/

– The truth is that nothing is permanent in life.

For several sessions, Alla shared her attitude to life, her philosophy of “living one day at a time,” which she came to with her illness and which she considered the only true one. But the feeling of meaninglessness, of not understanding what she really wanted, became more and more obvious.

– I understand that being able to live “here and now” is right, that’s how I live, but all these joys of one day, one week – they have no meaning. They cease to be joys.

– You chose philosophy when you thought that you would not live long, the philosophy of one day, but fate has already given you six years and may give you many more years.

Alla was silent. Then she said quietly:

"I'm tired of being a one-day butterfly."

Subsequent meetings we talked about Alla's life in perspective. Accustomed to looking at her life in “cross-sections,” Alla shared how strange this forgotten “longitudinal” view was to her.

“How difficult it is to simultaneously be in each moment, but also see the wholeness. It’s like a road that you follow to get to something, not just for the sake of it, but without forgetting to look at the details of the landscape.”

Alla began to share her dreams, for example, strong desire to have children, which, due to the fact that she “forbade” herself to plan and think about the future, she repressed.

“But I could have adopted a child for many years now. Although, who knows, will they allow me with my diagnosis?”(Alla could not have her own children).

“And you know, it’s probably time for me to start looking for my own apartment, or maybe go completely crazy and agree to get married for the third time.”,” she smiled as she said goodbye.

We said goodbye to Alla. And eight months later I received a warm email from her from Barcelona. Among other things, she wrote:

« ...my third potential husband, by the time I agreed, had changed his mind. Here it is, the tragedy of untimeliness)) But that’s okay. After all, otherwise I would not have ended up in my beloved Spain - I fell in love again. And also on last week I signed an agreement to buy a small apartment here, not far from the sea - after all, if you choose something longer, then with good scenery for the “here and now”».

Tags: Existential crisis,

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50+. Age of survival or second youth?

Elena Ceyhan, psychologist: “I turned 49 when almost everything collapsed: I lost my job high level, separated from her husband, with whom she lived for 25 years, and began to have serious health problems.” So I could start my own story, but this is how the stories of my friends and clients begin."

Tags: Age , Existential crisis ,

Existential Anxiety and Identity Development

Psychotherapist Maxim Pestov: “Existential anxiety expresses one simple idea - not a single choice turns out to be absolutely correct and final, not a single position gives perfect guarantees and preferences. In a state of this anxiety, there is a feeling that life is going to hell and not for "What to cling to in order to interrupt this inevitable fall. This cannot be canceled, since it turns out to be the ultimate given of our existence."

Smile. Please smile every time you look into the hopeless darkness and see no way out of despair.

The sea beat against the rocks strongly, furiously, noisily, and with a frantic roar of each wave it broke into small splashes against the rocks. They flew up, settled on the skin and enveloped everything around with dampness and the smell of the sea. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the horizon, the sunset was burning. The dark red sun sank into dark water to warm someone in another part of the globe with its warmth. But even the light of the late dark twilight, slowly turning into night, was enough to see two salty tracks on the girl’s cheeks. An envelope lay at her feet, and in her hands was a neatly decorated official letter, but the girl stared blankly into the choppy sea, and tears flowed down her cheeks, as if on their own. That night everything that existed collapsed. When people lose something, they often succumb to despair, which leaves a silent void in its wake. Suicides do not occur out of despair or pain, it is an attempt to escape from the frantic silence inside, in which not even a heartbeat can be heard. Her mother died in an oncology clinic in Berlin when the girl was fourteen. It broke her, but she always tried to be strong. Everyone thought that she had moved away and resigned herself, but no one knew how many nightly hysterics were suppressed by pills, so that psychologists simply threw up their hands, prescribing yet another antidepressant. And now the image of her mother sometimes comes to her in dreams, so it’s impossible to say with certainty that everything is over. She was probably saved by sunny California, to which she fled two months after the funeral in order to quickly erase the oppressive memories and noisy, gray Berlin from her memory. But she herself knew that this was not the case at all. It was about the one who habitually sat next to her, who walked next to her and held her tightly at every turn of the steep road of life. A couple of hours ago she received an official letter from the German racing association. Car accident. A quiet highway, low speed by highway standards, and a drunk driver who flew into oncoming traffic and left no chance of life. His mother died of cancer, being a co-owner of a pharmaceutical company and an excellent doctor, and his father was a professional race driver. Probably, this irony of life will someday reach her. - Baby? – a muffled voice cut through the silence, and after it a powerful wave crashed against the rock with a plaintive groan. A thin stream of smoke curled in the air, stretching into the cloudy starless sky, and the tip of a lit cigarette glowed like a beacon in the twilight. The smell lingered bitter and tart, but I didn’t want to cough anymore - after many months you can come to terms with any habit of a loved one. She stayed with her when no one else was there. All her “friends” left her, because she no longer smiled or laughed so sincerely, and only pity came from others, which made her feel like a helpless kitten, who had already been stuffed into a bag and was already being carried to drown in the river. Understanding. That's what I couldn't give her except her. This girl saw all her nightly hysterics, put sedatives under her tongue and met with her every rainy and sunny morning. Slowly, but with every step, she came closer and closer to the little frightened girl who woke up screaming at night and called her mother. After all, she was just there. And now she was sitting close enough that through the humidity of the sea and cigarette smoke you could smell her spicy-tart perfume. “Baby, that’s enough,” the spark of the cigarette flies somewhere into the sea, and she sits down opposite her and, with all tenderness, takes her face in her palms – soft and warm. “Stop crying,” her voice hardly trembles, she knows how to hide her excitement. Fingers run over her damp cheeks, wiping away tears. This only makes me want to cry more. That’s why she leans back on the cold, dew-covered grass and asks in a shrunken voice: “Tell me something good.” The girl was silent for a second, then spoke: “Do you know that there is a species of butterfly that lives only one day?” They are born, they dance their mating dance and die. One night to experience life, fall in love and die. What do you think about that? The girl, stretched out on the grass, became silent, thinking about these words. Clouds were sliding across the sky, and the sea was roaring more and more, but she did not hear anything. The silence that hung over became almost tangible, the darkness of the night covered everything around like a thick canopy. The girl’s face was not visible, only a tired and trembling voice rustled. - We are butterflies too. And it just seems to us that the half century allotted to us is a lot. But we are born, fall in love and die in the same way. And, like butterflies, we try to be happy. The girl was silent for a couple of minutes, clicked the lighter and, slowly putting it in her pocket, sank to the ground nearby. - Exactly. Our life is too short to grieve for a long time about something, no matter how strong our pain. We are butterflies too. Bright, happy. We must be them. No one else said a word. The girl wiped her almost dry cheeks, and, taking a deep breath, found a warm palm by touch, squeezing it lightly. There was no need to explain anything to anyone. This is understanding on the verge of consciousness and emotions, without words. These two lost people They lay there on the rock, chilled to their very bones, and to the accompaniment of the sea storm they thought about butterflies. Butterflies live one day.

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Something warm was spreading from inside. Eva thought it was all about warm jacket, which, among all these old huts and huge Russian stoves with cast iron, looked like a fragment of an alien spaceship, but somewhere in the depths of my soul I understood that this vague, trembling, joyful feeling of warmth was precisely because of Maxim’s actions.

More on the fandom "Originals"

22

Eternal love can not be. There is a successful combination of habits. There is a feeling of comfort from the fact that you are not alone. There is reliability. That, in fact, is all that is enough for happiness. (With)

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I love my boyfriend... - Seriously? - Laughter comes from the phone. “Yes,” is an uncertain answer. - And this is exactly what you were thinking about when you left hickeys on my collarbones? -...He didn’t deserve to be deceived... -He signed his own death sentence when he came to that club with you...And I remember that you didn’t want to go.

Death is just a transition from one life to another, a re-dressing from old clothes to a new one.
"Bhagavad Gita"

Once, when I was on duty on the night shift, I was assigned to the ward of a little girl. She was only five years old. She was pale and seemed weightless as a feather. Her large green eyes were just like those of an adult and looked at me piercingly. When I entered the room, she immediately turned to me, as if she was waiting:
“Hello,” the girl said almost inaudibly, either from weakness or from the fact that the artificial respiration mask did not transmit sounds well. - And my name is Alice.
It was unexpected, and even at first I didn’t know what to answer. I worked at this hospital for six months and was still afraid to work with patients. You know, this happens too.
I looked at the girl, and it flashed through my head: “just like from a fairy tale.” And she really looked like a fairy or maybe a princess. Or maybe a fairy princess. I haven't decided yet.
-You don't want to be friends with me? – she asked with an adult intonation.
- No, what are you talking about? Quite the contrary. Um... I'm Dr. Harrison. I am very pleased to meet you Alice. – I said with a smile.
- You're funny. – Alice pulled her thin hand towards my red curls on my head when I sat down next to her. – And not at all scary, like other doctors.
I smiled and the princess continued.
- And really, you’re not evil? You are a dandelion man.
I laughed and patted Alice on the head, she also smiled and asked a lot. Questions kept pouring in, and it seemed that they were never exhausted. And where did she get them from? So we talked until the morning, and she fell asleep.
I went home.
Alice. Which interesting child. She couldn’t get out of my head all day, and I couldn’t even sleep properly; I wanted so badly to return to this girl again and talk to her.
In the evening I came to her room again.
“Hello, friend,” the girl called cheerfully.
- Hello Princess. Are you feeling good?
I knew she was sick. Seriously ill.

Alice has cancer. – Like a death sentence, the head doctor told me when I asked him what was wrong with the girl.
This horrified me. For some reason I got scared and began to worry incredibly about her.
- And the operation. Isn't it possible to have surgery? - I didn’t back down.
- A girl from an orphanage. There is no money, and therefore the operation cannot be performed without funds. We are trying to treat her. People help. But for now this is not enough.
- How much does this damn operation cost? – I was furious at my colleague’s statements. Probably even more so from his calm, relaxed voice. Oh my god how this pissed me off.
- Fifty thousand. Large sum.
I felt like I was numb.

You know, I thought, and you’re not a dandelion man,” Alice ignored my question. And most likely on purpose. And this is not surprising.
- And who am I then?
- You are sun! Yes, of course, you’re not as warm as it is,” Alice touched my hand, “but still more like the sun than a dandelion.”
I fell in love with this girl.
I don't know what kind of love this is. But she became very dear to me. I didn't want the princess to die. After all, the fairy tale she gave me will die with her. That's what I thought then.

Three more days passed. We spent more and more time together. I devoted all my hours and minutes and even seconds to her. And she gave me her smile.

- “...And you will see, everything will become different. And no adult will ever understand how important this is!” - I finished reading Alice’s favorite fairy tale “ a little prince“, you know this and my favorite.
- Do you write fairy tales yourself?
- No, i guess. Although it would be great to write something.
- So, why don’t you try?
Alice sat opposite me on the hospital bed and ate soup. The princess looked straight into my eyes and waited for an answer. The piercing green, or rather emerald, eyes of the fairy did not give me a chance to leave the girl without an answer, and I was even embarrassed. Why?
“Why don’t I try to write a fairy tale?..” - I suddenly asked myself.
- I will definitely write a fairy tale. “I’ll write for you,” I blurted out like a child. What a guy.
- You promise? – for the first time I heard such childish naivety in her voice.
- Yes Yes! I promise you, princess.

Oh my God. I started writing. I'm Tom Harrison writing a fairy tale. I can't even believe it, this little girl has completely changed me. How can she die? No, I simply cannot allow this!
I sold some of the furniture and the car. TV, microwave and washing machine Same. Next came the stereo and TV. The apartment was empty, and I had money, but it was not enough and I began to stubbornly look for the remaining amount wherever possible.

Sun, why is the snow white? - Alice asked when the New Year's days had already arrived.
- Why does the princess ask so many questions?
- I don't know. Is that really a lot?
- Yeah. You could write a whole collection. And call it “Questions from Alice,” - decorating the room with garlands, we laughed a lot.
I even put up a Christmas tree for this girl. We decorated it together. For the first time in for a long time Alice got out of bed. I thought she was getting better. And I was incredibly happy about it. You can't even imagine how much. I'm crazy.
She was happy. It seemed the most happy girl in the world. And I was happy. And I was the happiest twenty-three-year-old man in the world.
The next day, for some reason, Alice was silent a lot.
- Tom, let’s agree like this. I will ask you only one question a day, and you will always answer it. Fine?
- Why only one?
- Well, such an adult you don’t understand. “She muttered and covered herself with a blanket.
“Are you really offended? For what?"
- Try to explain to me. Please.
- This question will be special and important. So I asked many questions a day that were meaningless, and now I will look for the chosen one that is definitely worth asking and getting an answer to. Well, do you agree? - She extended her hand to seal the agreement with such a serious expression on her face that I simply could not help but smile.
- I agree, princess.

Every day she asked me one single question. I answered it. And she listened carefully, sometimes with a thoughtful face, sometimes with a mischievous smile. And I kept talking and talking.
Every day the questions became more and more interesting. All of them were not difficult, and I even had some kind of passionate interest in answering them and always wanted to know what kind of question would be tomorrow. And every day I waited for him more than anything else.

What is a crisis?
Do penguins have cold feet?
Why are you red?
Why do people cry?
Can you sing?
Do you want to ride an elephant?
How to kiss correctly?
How did the water come from the tap?
Where is the coldest place in the Universe?
Can eyes fly out when sneezing?
Do men have cellulite?
Why sunlight makes me happy?
Why do we only have five fingers?
What is a dildo?
…
I loved her questions!

A mounth later.
I saved up forty thousand. There is just a little bit left to perform the operation on Alice. There is just a little bit left for her to be healthy and finally, truly happy.
- Princess! Good morning“I went into her room with breakfast.
- Hi sunshine. “For some reason she spoke sadly and didn’t even turn her head in my direction, but still looked out the window for a purpose I didn’t understand, without looking up.
What she saw there, I don’t know.
- Sun, why do butterflies live only one day?
This was the saddest question she ever asked me. I don't know why, but I wanted to cry. And I didn’t even know what to answer. I was silent. He was silent. Silent...
Alice was silent too. We didn't exchange a word the whole day. Strange.
The next morning, the princess left this world and was carried away with the graceful flight of a butterfly to the fairies in her fairy tale.

I don't remember what happened next. Everything was mixed up in my head. Screaming, hysteria, helplessness. Even fear.
It seemed to me that I was alone and had no one else.
Depression.
Pain.
That was the end.
But that's just how it seemed to me. After all, this is a girl. Alice. Gave me new life. Revived me.

One spring, a butterfly flew into my apartment. She was beautiful. You know, I never wanted to live like I did when I saw this graceful flight of this creature.
“Alice...” I whispered.
Instantly I remembered everything that was connected with that time spent with the princess. And I began to live.
And I kept my promise.
I wrote a fairy tale for her. For Alice. For the little fairy princess who works great miracles.

Is in the world amazing butterflies– mayflies. This order includes more than 3,000 species of insects. In each of them, a one-day butterfly lives no more than a day, during which it manages to be born, leave offspring and die.

Yes and appearance They have a somewhat non-standard one. Distinctive feature Most butterflies have light translucent wings and 2-3 long tail filaments.

Mayflies do not need to be distracted by searching for food. Normal mouth opening they simply do not, and their digestive organs are filled with air.

Typically, the process of degeneration of a larva into a butterfly occurs simultaneously for many hundreds of insects. And they all go on their first flight together, where they split into pairs.

From a distance, the mating games of ephemerals look like a swarm of flying multi-colored snow over the water; up close, they look like a dance. First, the females flutter upward, hover for a few seconds (at the same time the males fly up to them) and smoothly glide downwards, then all elements of the dance are repeated again.

The purpose of the males after the “dance” is fulfilled. Most of them die right in the air and fall into the water to the delight of the fish, the rest will last another hour or two.

Female mayflies scatter across the territory of a river or lake to lay eggs. And by evening, their life also ends. One butterfly lays about 10,000 eggs. But out of this huge number, no more than a tenth of the total offspring is born. Most eggs and larvae are eaten by fish.

By the way, experienced fishermen who know about such gastronomic preferences of fish get good catches using mayfly larvae as bait. The offspring of mayflies differ from other inhabitants of the reservoir by the presence of ready-made tail filaments and tracheal gills

The larvae themselves, unlike the butterflies, are nothing remarkable. They are extremely voracious, grow actively and can molt about twenty times during their larval life. At the same time, they live for 2-3 years, as if in compensation for the short life of adults.

When the time comes to transform into a butterfly, so many gases accumulate inside the mayfly larva that outer shell swells, floats and cracks. And the newborn butterfly clings to the remains of the shell and dries out.

Then the last molt of the insect occurs. The skin on the back of the day-old is torn and the butterfly flies up to perform its first and last dance. Mayflies are the only order of insects in which externally formed butterflies with wings can molt.

Despite the fact that mayfly offspring are left completely unattended, their number and distribution do not decrease. So far, these amazing insects have not been found only in the Hawaiian Islands and St. Helena Island.