Little Epiphanies
A frog, a fortress, and a family ritual.
When I was about six, we discovered a coquí that had hitched a ride on a poinsettia leaf into our living room in San Juan. Coquís are small tree frogs that sing from twilight to dawn, calling out “co-QUI, co-QUI” in the dense tropical flora. At night, once we had all gone to bed, we could hear the little frog’s calls, plaintiff and close, in the still, white-tiled apartment.
The song of the coquís defines the acoustic ecology of Puerto Rico. From our fourth-floor apartment above a congested intersection in Guaynabo, their song was layered with the sounds of car backfires, laughing voices and shouts, merengue and music. You can listen to YouTube mixes of the coquis created for those of us, like me, who have left the island in body if not in soul.
When the coquí arrived, my mother and I were in a kind of uncertain awe. Coquis go far back in island culture and ecology; they appear in Taino petrographs and are a link to that indigenous culture. I stole furtive glances of its small, light brown body against one of the yellowing leaves. And then, not long after New Year’s—around Three Kings’ Day—it was gone. My mother said that once it disappeared, she couldn’t find a body anywhere—it had left. She wondered out loud if the frog’s arrival had been a sign of good fortune, or if its sudden disappearance had been an ill omen. In hindsight, perhaps it was a sign that we too would someday leave.
Three Kings’ Day, or the Epiphany (from the Greek meaning “appearance”) was one of the most special days of the year. My parents took me down to the Castillo San Felipe del Morro, a promontory fortress overlooking the sea, where the city placed three larger-than-life wooden kings on camels striding into the air over the Atlantic coast. I placed straw and dry grass, gathered from pinnate palms below our apartment, for the camels to eat on their mystical midnight journey through the humid streets of San Juan. Three small gifts appeared with each of their names under our wire-and-plastic Christmas tree: Gaspar, Melchior, Balthasar. A desert journey, a sinking star: the perfect legend for a people destined for diaspora.
I don’t know if I believe in signs or omens. They seem too calculated to affirm decisions we have to endure on our own. But I do believe in the small moments of awe that stay with you through the years. I believe in the wonder of a child, the searching reverence of an adult, the rhythmic breaths of a thing so small and so important.
I still put grass out (plucked from muddy clumps of winter) on Three Kings’ Day Eve. (And when I’m home with my parents, the grass mysteriously disappears by the next morning.)
These are the gifts I carry on the journey. These are the little epiphanies I seek out in crevices and fronds: hopes—fragile, close, and plaintiff in the night.
Wishing you all wisdom and wonder in the New Year and beyond.
What I’m working on: Wrapping up a piece on the history of chocolate in 17th-century English print culture. Continuing to grow my editorial consultancy, rivannacontent.com, which supports mission-driven orgs through storytelling, research, and copy editing.
What I’m teaching: I’m designing a spring course on the afterlives of The Odyssey and the literature of migrancy. More soon!
What I’m looking forward to: Spring blossoms, new beginnings, more time outdoors.
Highlights of 2022: Reunions with friends and family in West Virginia and Charlottesville, VA; exploring Durham, UK with fellow medievalists; manuscript study in Oxford; attending gorgeous weddings in Cologne and Connecticut; exploring the vineyards south of Asheville, NC; working with and learning from new clients; quiet time spent at home.
Intentions for 2023: Creating the conditions for a creative practice (via
); making decisions "from the soul" (my dad's advice); having the curiosity and courage to follow my interests and goals.Recommendations: Looking to learn Spanish or Catalan in 2023? My friend Belem García is offering a new online class “Spanish from Scratch” over at her Literal Spanish page, and the wonderful Carol Ruiz is offering online Spanish and Catalan lessons. Charlottesville-based Speak! Language Center (where I tutor ESL courses!) also offers a range of language instruction options.