About ten days ago I returned to the Meyer bungalow in Old Lake Highlands to discover a little cold-capsule-sized relic attached to the smack-dab middle of my front door.

Since my wife dear wife takes great pains to both garden for butterflies and keep me well informed about the process, I realized pretty quickly that this wasn't some sort of chartreuse bird turd that had been skip-fired under our eaves by a vengeful starling - I could tell it was, in fact, a caterpillar chrysalis of some variety. Which type, I did not know.

When Anne got home that night, she looked it up in the handy butterfly book (Anne, being a back-to-nature sort, still prefers to consult printed volumes on occasion rather than consulting the all-knowing internet genie) The determination: monarch. (Or, more accurately, MONARCH!) My wife, you see, has cultivated milkweed for several consecutive years now specifically to attract monarchs, it being their caterpillar's preferred host plant. Oh, sure, we've also got loads of nectar plants throughout the front and back gardens, but it's the host plants that will - if the fluttering transients deign to take notice - result in the appearance of tiger-striped caterpillars on one's milkweed leaves, followed by little green capsules no bigger than the last joint of one's little finger.

The surprise was that, after finding the one marking our door as the entry to the home of certified monarch-lovers, we looked around and found two more of the cocoons at various positions under the front porch roofline. Anne was so ecstatic she did a little dance (kind of a celebratory jig) around the living room after we carefully closed the front door that evening.

Today, after days and nights of carefully avoiding putting my shoulder to the door to open it, as I often do, I was greeted by the sight of the emergent unfurling insect.

The butterfly's wings were still dripping fluid as I snapped a picture; he (or she) hung there quietly while I navigated in and out of the house to grab the good camera, and then again when I went back inside to change lenses; wings sufficiently dry, he/she eventually flew off to explore the neighborhood.

God speed, noble creature - god speed.

Comments

Chad Jones Staff

http://pegnews.com, now with 100% more butterfly zen.

1 year, 4 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

Pavel Lishin Verified

1 year, 4 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

Bill Holston Verified

Marvelous. thanks for posting that.

1 year, 4 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

Jeremy Dunck Staff

In the rare case that ye olde printed volume might fail, perhaps this site would interest her: http://www.whatsthatbug.com/index.html

It's terribly organized, but full of beautiful pictures and detailed analysis.

1 year, 4 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )

Teresa Gubbins Staff

maybe it's time for Film Guy to start making his entrances and exits via the window? i don't understand his imperialistic insistence on using the front door, not to mention skulking around with the camera, intrusively switching lenses, etcetera etcetera? dammit. (p.s. nice pix!)

1 year, 4 months ago ( Link to this comment | Suggest removal )