In July I published an essay titled “The Butterfly Girl” in LitMag.
The essay is, in part at least, about Monarch butterflies. Jennifer, my significant other, raises Monarchs in our backyard. She’s now gotten me involved with her madness, so I’m getting you involved.
Relax, I think you’ll like this.
Reasons:
Butterflies are cool.
Monarchs are dying, and if pollinators die, it’s lights out for the rest of us.
Butterflies are pretty. Even if you don’t care about all life dying and the earth itself turning into a barren wasteland, they’re pretty!
Monarchs also have a fascinating life cycle, and I thought I’d walk you through part of it, with photos Jenn and I have taken in our very own backyard.
This is milkweed. Monarch caterpillars eat only milkweed. On the milkweed you can see a tiny egg:
This is the butterfly laying the egg. You can see how it is pinning the egg to the underside of the milkweed leaf:
When the eggs hatch, the caterpillars are tiny. That’s a caterpillar just below and to the right of the exclamation point in the pic below (There aren’t five caterpillars in the pic, btw—this is one of the five that hatched that day):
More tiny caterpillars:
And more:
This one’s a little bigger:
This one is five days old:
They eat constantly, stopping only to molt a few times. This one is around 2 weeks old:
A few more plump ones. You can see where they’ve eaten the leaves, which is all they do—eat and poop (I don’t have a picture, but when we have a lot of caterpillars in one cage, Jenn has to vacuum their poop up because they poop so much it covers the bottom of the cage. Luckily it doesn’t smell).
When their internal clocks tick to the right time, they spin a little pad, anchor themselves to it, and form a J. The caterpillar will hang like that for around a day, then the chrysalis will form—you can see a newly-formed chrysalis on the leaf just below the J.
They can be in chrysalis anywhere from 8-15 days. When they get ready to come out, the chrysalis turns clear, and gets very thin:
When they emerge, their wings are folded and wrinkled. This is a short video of one emerging:
After their wings dry, you can play with them (That’s Jenn. She’s very cute, but please ignore my socks and sandals—I just slipped them on to go outside, I swear):
Last two: the butterfly hutch Jenn built, and her waystation sign—look at the door handles!
If you want to learn more about Monarchs, their dwindling numbers, and how to start your own Monarch Waystation, here’s a link to Monarch Watch at the University of Kansas (KU), just a couple of miles from where Jenn and I live in Lawrence (You can order your own caterpillars!)
This is the best article I've read in weeks, Paul. Butterflies mean so much to me. I feel humbled by your telling the story of how you and Jennifer raise and care for these creatures. I knew monarchs are vital to the overall ecosystem, but I did not realize they're dying off... which saddens me, as many things do. Knowing there are people like the two of you who are protecting this delicate life form uplifts me. I'm grateful you shared this today, and I'm eager to read the article you wrote in Lit Mag when I obtain access to it. (I bought a digital back-issue today.)
So amazing! I had no idea! Your post certainly has me appreciating these beautiful butterflies even more! Love the help Jennifer and you are doing for the Monarchs! Thank you for sharing!