“But there are maps and then again, there are maps; for what to call the haphazard dance of bees returning to their hives but maps that lead to precise hibiscuses, their soft storehouses of pollen?… And what are turtles born with if not maps that break eggs and pull them up from sand guide them towards ocean instead of land?”
from “vii.” in The Cartographer Tries to Map a Way to Zion by Kei Miller, p. 22 [revmeg]