Monarch Madness

"He's dead--you killed him.  His shell is turning black!"

For the past three years, my aunt, the kids and I have gone out during the heat of summer to scour milkweek plants.  We look diligently for caterpillars we can place in a "Butterfly Jar" (a clear plastic home constructed out of a large, re-used pretzel jar, some mesh screen, a few sticks and lots of fresh milkweed leaves) so that we can observe their transformation process.

Usually, it is Aunt Annie who finds the caterpillars for us--we don't seem to have a lot of luck.  We find TONS of chewed upon leaves, but that is about all.  This year, Annie found the first one and the kids and I fed him every day for about a week until he climbed onto the top of the container and hung upside down in a "J" shape to spin his chrysalis.  Then, about a week later, while we were at Aunt Annie and Uncle Tom's house, we found a chrysalis attached to a day lily leaf.  We took this home and put it in a jar, too.

Yesterday, Arrah ran down the stairs to check on the "butterflies," and then ran back up yelling, "The butterfly is going to be born!  Hurry and come see, Mama!  His quisawis is turning black."

We all hurried down the stairs and, sure enough, the one that was hanging on the dried day lily leaf had begun transforming.  The picture above is of this AMAZING process--you can see the bits of deep orange in the undertone of the black papery shell of what used to be a glossy apple green chrysalis.  The only thing that is the same is the golden jeweled zipper all around the top of the chrysalis.

My dad came in from outside and said, "He's dead--you killed him.  His shell is turning black."  I hollered in that he wasn't dead, but he insisted I was wrong until he took the butterfly home and gazed at it under the kitchen island light.  That was when he saw the orange and black design of the wings shining through.  He said, "Wow!"

Throughout the day, we kept checking back to see if anything had changed.  Most of the time, the shell just continued to deepen its orange and black patterned hue. 

However, while we were in the addition eating warm zucchini banana bread, the butterfly slowly emerged from the chrysalis.  Here is a picture of the soft, wet wings that are just beginning to open after he emerged.

I had to tip the plastic jar on the side to get the picture so it is a little blurry, but I thought the colors were spectacular.  It took this butterfly a bit longer to pump and fill his wings so he could spread them wide and let them dry off.

His step was a bit tentative and his wire-thin legs wobbly and unsure as he grasped the edges of the dried day lily leaf. 

After a while, I pulled the leaf out and put it on the surface of the counter so he could stand and slowly let his wings open and close.  He fell to the side a number of times, so I put my finger down and encouraged him to cling to that instead.

John took this picture of me holding him and encouraging him to climb onto my finger.  Isn't it just incredible?!

I had to go teach class, so John held him on his finger and shirt while he gained confidence--opening and closing his wings more confidently.

The kids and John set him free after dinner--well, most of the kids.  Colton refused to put his pants and pull-up on again so he had to stay inside. 

Like the butterfly we set free last summer, this one, too, flew to the leaves of the old apple tree behind the house and sat there for a long time before lifting off onto a light breeze and floating away.

We are hoping the second one will emerge this afternoon.  I will keep you posted with more pictures of this process.