Last summer, our neighbor found and brought to us three fat, black swallowtail butterfly caterpillars that were enthusiastically eating the carrot greens in her garden. While they ate everything we offered and shortly encased themselves in three, perfect cocoons, what followed was a gruesome and unlikely learning experience which left us hoping against hope that we might still hatch a butterfly in the spring.
Ignored in their windowsill home for the long winter months, once the days started to get warmer and the first flowers of spring started to bloom, the kids' attention returned to the remaining chrysalises. Would we have a butterfly soon? Was there a chance there was a survivor? We carefully opened the butterfly house and removed the branches to examine the well-camouflaged cocoons, and when we did, we discovered something encouraging: only one of the three cocoons had been breached! The nasty carnivorous flies had only invaded one of our caterpillars! We might still have two butterflies in stasis.
We rushed back to the internet to see if we could determine when we might expect them to emerge, only to face more discouragement. Apparently, wintering chrysalises in stasis was trickier than just letting them stay unmolested inside. They might have been better off in the cold garage, or being misted occasionally inside the refridgerator. In fact, the artificial light and heat in the dining room might have dehydrated them beyond repair. And truthfully, they looked a little dry compared to the pictures we saw online of healthy cocoons.
Sad, but unwilling to give up, Spencer insisted that we keep them "just in case," and I couldn't say no. So we transferred the branches to a large, open-mouthed jar, loosely covered the top with a butterfly net, and left it in the window. Of course, the net was removed several times by one or another curious kid and, rather convinced that there was no life within, I was less-than-conscientious about re-covering the jar.
This week, as the weather settled into the most perfect string of spring days - warm, sunny, dry and breezy - all three kids (and their mother) came down with a head cold that meant business. Yellow snot began dripping, running, and spraying everywhere, and voices grew whiny, scratchy, and irritable. School came to a full halt for everyone, replaced with countless lessons in better nose-blowing techniques (use a tissue PLEASE, Ellie!) and appropriate tissue disposal (not in a pile on the couch, not scattered on the floor, not piled on the table beside you etc...) The TV got a work-out as the older two sprawled in front of it's flickering face, covered in blankets, flanked by boxes of Puffs Plus and stuffed animals. And Ellie, never content to be still even when sick, patrolled the different rooms lugging books, crayons, animals, her iPad, and anything else that caught her eye.
So it was that this afternoon found her camped out in the diningroom, drawing on the whiteboard and reading an assortment of transported books while Spencer and I watched Rango on Netflix. Suddenly, she stopped singing and called out "It's a BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY! It's a BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY!" Unsure whether she was reading "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" or looking out the window, I came in to investigate.
"Where is the butterfly, Ellie? Show Mommy."
"Right THERE!" she said with glee, pointing at the front window.
It only took a second to realize that she wasn't looking at a butterfly outside, but one right there on the inside of the glass. While no one was looking, one gorgeous black swallowtail butterfly had emerged from its cocoon and was fluttering drying wings against the glass.
The picture can't do justice to the deep, velvety color of his wings.
The empty cocoon
In moments everyone was crowded around the window as I tried to coax it away from the window and into something we could use to bring it safely outside. Little fingers had to be reminded again and again not to touch the fragile legs and beautiful wings, all while ooohing and aahing over his velvety colors and perfectly curled proboscis. There was much joy at the realization that Daddy was working from home, and with a little patience on their part, he could partake in the release.
Even his body was pretty, lined with bright, white spots
Soon we were bringing him to the back porch and bidding him a fond farewell. In spite of the long, strange winter, the confusion of the window and the glass, he quickly fluttered his perfect wings and soared into the sky. In moments he had reachd the roof of the house, the tops of the trees, and then open sky for the first time. It was an amazing and beautiful thing.
He was out of the bowl before I could even snap a picture.
That bird-like shape is actually our butterfly!
higher...
and away he goes!
We actually got our own little miracle today. And who knows? Maybe we will have the pleasure of releasing a second butterfly soon...
That is so amazing transformation of a caterpillar turning into a beautiful butterfly. I am inspired by the wonderful meaning it suggest to us that life is about transformation that also needs our growth.
Posted by: Deli Divine | December 09, 2012 at 05:56 AM