My Favourite Living Thing

The Blue Morpho Butterfly

Basic Information:

As its name says, the blue morpho butterfly’s wings are bright blue, edged with black. When the blue morpho flies, the contrasting bright blue and dull brown colors flash, making it look like the morpho is appearing and disappearing. The males’ wings are broader than those of the females and appear to be brighter in color. The female’s wings appear to be a lighter blue with a few white spots, edged with brown.

These butterflies are found mostly in South America as well as Mexico and Central America. Morphos range in wingspan from 7.5 cm to 20 cm. The name Morpho means changed or modified.

Many Morpho butterflies are colored in metallic, shimmering shades of blue and green. These colors are not a result of pigmentation but are an example of iridescence: the microscopic scales covering the Morpho's wings reflect light repeatedly at successive layers.

These microscopic scales only cover the back of their wings. That is, you can only see them when their wings are open. The front of their wings are a dull brown color with white spots that provide camouflage against predators such as birds and insects when it's wings are closed.

Diet:

As a caterpillar, it chews leaves of many varieties, but prefers to dine on peas. When it becomes a butterfly it can no longer chew, but drinks its food instead. Adults sip the juice of rotting fruit, the fluids of decomposing animals, tree sap, fungi and wet mud.

Threats:

Blue Morphos are severely threatened by deforestation of tropical forests. Humans are a special threat to the blue morphos because their beauty attracts artists and collectors from all over the globe who wish to capture and display them. Aside from humans, birds like the jacamar and flycatcher are the adult butterfly’s natural predators.

Blue Morphos fascinate and inspire me because of all the facts listed above

Photos:

A Blue Morpho Female

A Blue Morpho Male

A Blue Morpho in flight

A Blue Morpho opening its wings

Blue Morphos

7. Book

What is your favourite book? The Son of Neptune.
Who is your favourite author? Rick Riordan.
Why? Because his books are funny, well-written, and have exciting plots.
What types of stories do you like to read most? Fantasy/Romance/Comedy.
Why? Because I like fantastical creatures, and I like to read about love triangles. I also love to laugh out loud. That's the difference between The Son of Neptune and The Hunger Games. Percy Jackson has a sense of humor. Katniss Everdeen doesn't.
If you wrote a book, what would it be about? A girl that can make whatever she sings of come true. For example, if she sings Somewhere Over the Rainbow, bluebirds, rainbows, chimney-tops and a lot of lemons would misteriously appear out of the middle of nowhere. Oh, wait, I'm already writing that book.

Fabulous Food

My Favourite Foods

My Favourite Main Entries

1. Spaghetti a la Bolognese (DELICIOUS!)

2. Pizza Margherita (Yummy, yummy. In my tummy.)

3. Mashed Potatoes

I like Spaghetti a la Bolognese because I like tomatoes, I like pasta and I like Parmesan cheese. I’m not actually allowed to eat it at resturants, because Mum makes it so much at home! I like to eat Pizza Margherita for the same reasons. I’m only not allowed to eat Pizza Margherita when they want me to try something new. The only times I’m not allowed to eat Mashed Potatoes are when there are no potatoes in the boat. In fact, I’ve liked these three foods for as long as I can remember.

My Favourite Deserts

1. Cocada (Brazilian desert. Slightly addictive)

2. Brigadeiro (Same as above)

3. Crepes (As sweet as possible, please)

4. Basically any type of cake.

In case you haven’t guessed, I like sweet stuff. Incredibly, I’m not allowed to eat any of the above only when there is none. Or when I’ve eaten too much sweet stuff already.

My Least Favourite Foods

1. Sushi

I’ve hated sushi since I threw up because of it. In a car. Right by a bathroom. When I was five years old. Sometimes, Mum and Dad ask me to try sushi (Mum, Dad and Marina are all on the dark side. And they all want to convert me). I always refuse.

2. Octopus

I don’t want to eat it for obvious reasons. But Mum and Dad are, sadly, addicted. They want to make me try it, but again, I refuse.

3. Shrimp

It’s just tradition, really. I’d like to try it, but I’m always disgusted by it. And then, tradition. Marina and I haven’t liked shrimp since we were five years old (Seriously, my fifth birthday is looking more and more like an imporant culinary milestone)

My Bio-Poem

Luana

Who is funny, a bookworm and fun to be around

Who is sister of Marina

Who loves books, music and friends

Who feels the need to be delicate, known and unforgettable

Who needs to be fed, read and sung to daily

Who gives a lot of her time to school, friends, and books

Who would like to see Paris, Rome and London

Who shares a room with Marina

Who is kind of pretty

Who is a resident of the world

Lima

My Nightmare -- Poem

My eyelids flutter,

As I try to stay awake.

After my movie, I should not sleep.

But I’m so tired.

I’ll just close my eyes for a second...

When I open them again, I’m in a city.

A gray city.

There is no one around.

“Hello?”I cry out.

My echoes bounce back to me

Through the cement walls.

I decide to explore.

I wander around, touching the walls,

So I can find my way back.

Suddenly, I hear a sound.

The shuffling of footsteps.

I whirl around, searching.

I can see the faint outline of a shape,

As gray as the walls.

“Hello?”I ask, quietly.

The shape detaches itself from the wall,

And shuffles towards me.

Suddenly, I feel afraid.

I take a step back,

And I stumble.

I brace myself for the fall,

When the shade catches me.

I look up to thank it.

I bite back a cry of horror.

It’s skin is gray.

It has no eyes.

And it is my sister.

A faint look of recognition enters its gaze.

“Sis..ter?”It whispers, its voice,

Like the creak of an open door.

It reaches out a hand.

A gray hand,

With nails that look like claws.

It caresses my face,

And I shudder.

I feel cold.

I look down, at my arm,

Where it held on to me.

My skin was it’s normal color.

Except for the part around it’s hand.

Where my skin was as gray as the cement walls.

The grayness spread.

I screamed, and wrenched my hand from it’s grasp.

I ran as hard as I could.

“Come back!”It screeched, with it’s voice,

Like the creak of an open door.

It’s echoes bounced back to it

Through the cement walls.

I look over my shoulder,

And I stumble.

I close my eyes and brace myself for impact.

When I open my eyes again, I’m back

In my room.

I blink twice.

The sunlight is so bright.

I dash the tears from my cheeks.