Two of two and a thousand July two. Blunting luzente bragantino sun stuned agreement, I walk for the corridors of the hotel I directed me it the garden and, I sit down in my more preferred bank blue, under the shade of a leafy hose, in order to contemplate the newness of my first day of vacation. In way to the coloring ' ' to become of desmaio' ' of the environment, I come across myself with a simple and singular phenomenon in one of the columns of old coreto: the rising of a butterfly. I observe intent, dived in the solitude of matutino silence, I appreciate novinha butterfly with quaint colored body, ' ' pernas' ' fine and black; but really interesting it is the contemplation of its wing, dark wings that state the art of the creator. I glimpse in perfect and fragile wings of the said insect the aesthetic one of geometric, bluish, yellowish and white forms; small, triangles, straight lines, points and spirals; as a tribal, comparable art to the art marajoara. Such lepidopteran if moves in the archaic-embranquecida column, follows the first steps of its vital dynamics, combining itself actively in the biosfera. ' is put into motion; ' artistic inseto' ' , leaving it stops backwards its horrible cocoon that long ago is its pack, its arrest-tomb of is valid lizard. The small butterfly if distance more than two palmos of ' ' cocoon rasgado' ' , estremece its four shadied and membranosas wings, risking with certain estremecimento the route of the free flight.