The Death of a Little Moth

When Wolf was a child she and her siblings would soak a flannel rag in treacle and rum. They'd go outside carrying a lamp to attract moths which of course were brawn by the light. If it was a good species they would be caught and popped into the poison pot, brought home for the family collection. Later on we had a name for our museum we called it the serendipity museum of nature. Many decades after that I wrote an essay called collecting nature about our museum. It began with a description of killing all the butterflies that were flooding around so happily and beautifully in the garden until my brother and I assassinated them. That essay was my form of atonement