I understand why you became a ladybug. The ladybug is one of Earth’s jewels. Shapeshifters from all across the universe enjoy the ladybug form as a gentle introduction to our planet’s native transformative experiences. I’ve heard many a shapeshifter rhapsodize about the pleasures of tearing yourself free from the carapace of a ladybug’s instar-self not once but three times, with pupa and imago forms still to come. One visitor I assisted spent seven years as a ladybug.

I understand why you became a cuttlefish, shimmering from gold to iridescent, now melding into the ocean depths, now brilliantly standing out. Some prefer the chameleon or golden tortoise beetle for camouflage forms, but in my opinion the cuttlefish is particularly fine, for it offers not only the pleasures of concealment, but also of duplicity. I hope you took full advantage of presenting yourself to potential mates in disguise.

I understand why you became a maple tree, it’s a classic emblem of seasonal change for several Earth cultures, and frankly, glorious in its autumnal splendor. And awakening from a slow winter sleep to feel the tips of your branches swell and blossom—well, that must be pretty satisfying too.

I don’t understand why you abandoned the itinerary we worked so hard upon. We designed your sequence not only for its trajectory of experiential delight, but also to adhere meticulously to the requirements established by Earth’s Unified Ministry of Interstellar Travel and Commerce in alignment with the standards of the Affiliated Worlds. This is for your safety and ours. We’re delighted, of course, that your experiences here have changed you, but for you to not only depart from the itinerary, but to actively violate the terms of your visa endangers us all.

• • • •

I understand, I do, why you became a storm. For lovers of change like yourself, the intense unpredictability of our weather is a top attraction, Earth’s pièce de résistance. The stories I could tell you about shapeshifters riding wind tunnels and playing in heat domes, drunk on thunder . . . But that’s in the past. Weather is a complex system and we’re still recovering from earlier damage. Our visa handbook lists the inanimate forms that shapeshifters with relevant abilities may take (page 428); no weather form is on that list. We know our weather can be irresistible; that’s why we designed the visa to initiate a stasis field in the event a shapeshifter transforms into weather. I’m only thankful no one was hurt.

I understand, I think, why you became our founder. A founder is, by definition, a maker of change. And no doubt you meant to honor our august body when you selected hers as a form to inhabit. However, as laid out in sections 126(a–l) of the handbook (beginning page 277), Earth has widespread taboos around death, the dead, and reanimation. Consequently, dead creatures of any species are forbidden (for the full forbidden forms list, see pages 73–192). This includes founders. I have heard that some regard death as humanity’s highest transformative artform, citing both our experience of bodily death and how we disburse death across the planet. I do not agree, but I understand that from an outside perspective our ways may look different. Fortunately, having experienced other visitors’ confusion about death, we’ve learned to spot the signs early. We appreciate your prompt payment of the fines.

I understand, maybe a little, why you became a virus—viral replication mechanisms are delightful little do-si-dos of transformation, with effects both fundamental and transitory. However, as the visa handbook explicitly states (page 403), shapeshifters who wish to take viral forms must submit applications in advance of arrival. Which you did not. This is true for all viruses, even those that draw on extensive prior research into, for example, dopamine and serotonin release. The Office for Biosecurity and Intellectual Property will be filing a formal complaint with your embassy. Personally, though I myself was, of course, vaccinated immediately, I was touched by your efforts to design a virus that prompts happiness, although I’m not sure why our happiness would matter to you.

Is your difficulty with the itinerary that it’s static? We have to file a full itinerary in advance for visas to be processed, but I suppose we might be able to arrange things so that parts of the itinerary remain hidden, to be revealed over time. Would that feel more like change?

• • • •

You say that your stay with the cold folk of Eresti changed you. That after playing decades-long games in which each player sought to make the most infinitesimal of shifts while otherwise staying stiller than silence, you became a shower of fire that blazed through the game space and refashioned the players. It sounds like your involvement compelled them to take up new ways to play. Was this something they were seeking?

You say that after a tour with the bot fungi of the successor state of Surszik, after the rowdy and never-ending self-assembly you all indulged in, you felt called to become a—my translator says “soothsayer pigeon,” can that be right?—and then, every eleventh day for the next two generations, decreed new patterns impossible to complete with the resources available. It sounds like you led them to challenges they would never have even conceived of on their own. Were they so eager to test themselves?

You say that when you had eaten your final feast with the Ff, crunching planets and moons and stations into their smallest and purest of constituent parts, digestive juices of the finest alkahest, you celebrated by becoming a condiment of surpassing bittersourness. That your flavor prompted the Ff to embrace the lonely umbrella flies of Waleera as grandchildren and rear them with the tenderest regard. It sounds like your tiny contribution grew their notion of kin. That’s beautiful.

Your travels have certainly afforded you some wonderful opportunities to immerse yourself in local experiences of making change. Here, though, we don’t understand being changed and making change as a single concept, or even as necessarily intertwined. Although that’s interesting to consider. What if we included a cooking class? Cooking is a classic, hands-on practice of transformation, one that’s accessible to all. Earth has many exceptional culinary traditions.

• • • •

I understand why you became a pig with powerful strong wings and flew laps, low and lazy, above six of our megacities. The flying pig is valorized by many Earth cultures as a key symbol of change, the perfect extreme that can never be achieved. Of course that would be appealing. You wouldn’t have realized, but seeing you in that form disturbed some people, prompting them to ask hard questions about their choices, the world, its institutions. We’ve had to release a statement about an experimental drone-based art piece to comfort and reassure.

I understand, as well, why you became a willow proudly producing grapes, a very hairy frog, a louse with a bad case of sneezes, and a crow with white plumage and a fondness for flying upside-down. And, too, salt glowing like a fierce noon sun, a flagpole with majestic mauve blossoms, and red snowflakes that flurried unexpectedly across three small European countries. And, of course, the flock of ducks that meandered through the garden clutching delicious-looking pastries in their hands. I won’t be forgetting those ducks any time soon. Fortunately, few people saw these forms. The delighted children won’t be believed, of course, and most of the adult witnesses have already persuaded themselves that their eyes were playing tricks. I must convey our researchers’ compliments on the breadth of your travel preparation. I myself had no idea the cultures of Earth had imagined so many different and lovely concoctions to express the unachievability of change. However, I must underscore again that weather forms, even unnaturally hued ones, are not allowed. To better clarify for future visitors, we will be adding a new section to the handbook covering proverbial, cryptozoological, and fantastical forms.

I’m sorry we can’t alter your departure date. Given our current estimated processing times, your visa will expire before we can complete our review of your extension request. But on behalf of the department, I’d like to thank you for visiting. Earth’s a pretty magical place, isn’t it? And thank you, too, for the good cheer you’ve consistently brought to our interactions, even when I came with what must have been discouraging news. Working with you has been eye-opening for me. Personally, I never realized before how very much we like to create rules here. Or how complicated they make exploring change. I hope you decide to return.