For reasons I cannot rationally grasp, I like the word “Metamorphosis”.
Since it comes from ancient Greek, it has remained nearly unchanged and immutable in the majority of languages, which gives it a bit of holiness or at least of respect as we feel for ancient stones, which have crossed the centuries, apparently indifferent to changes and time.
Literally it means more or less “To change form”, but it implies a complete and radical change of form, structure, or substance, as transformation by magic. There is the sense of astonishment for a fundamental change, which is nearly sudden.
I wrote above that I cannot fully grasp why I like this word, since it reminds me also of development process of insects, which is without any doubt fascinating, but also troubling and disturbing for me, as all what has to do with these small and mysterious beings to many of which I’m physically allergic (so it’s not just irrational repulsion).
Then I cannot help thinking also of Kafka’s novel, which cannot be considered a relaxing and enjoyable reading, since it’s one of the most distressing novels I have read.
Nevertheless I like this word, maybe because it can be perceived as a change, which leaves maybe intact the secret inner structure, it can be a way to develop, to adapt our views and our thoughts and even our life to new horizons, remaining ourselves deep inside.
Ah, the photo now, I was forgetting the main topic.
This photo is supposed to be representative of my metamorphosis, from city girl, used to think that all vegetables grow automatically on supermarket stalls, into a kitchen garden conscious apprentice, quite goofy, but full of genuine enthusiasm.
Then of course it’s the triumphal metamorphosis of my first aubergine, from a delicate and objectively wonderful purple flower to a little, but perfect vegetable, which will be eaten with reverent curiosity today for lunch.

Final metamorphosis of the eggplant flower and its distruction