Category Archives: nature

The Chrysalis Plot Thickens

And along came larva #2. Having concern that #1 (now a pupa) is dying on the vine, I quickly jarred this one, using more visible glass (not plastique) so that we hopefully get to view at least one emerging Monarch butterfly.

And so a predator or parasite doesn’t get him outdoors!

I build a gorgeous condo. Does he hang upside down from the perfect stick? No, he hangs from the cheese cloth. So I can’t open the “lid” to show you photos.

He looked a little sickly — note drooping antennae — and did not build his cocoon that night, though I checked many, many times and barely slept.

He goes into the classic J pose. I wait for the big moment. I’m dying to see this with my own eyes.

Nothing.

Annnd the moment you blink, he does it. In broad daylight. I totally missed it again! Though I checked on him every single time I checked the US Open, on TV in another room.

The early hours of the chrysalis (pupa) stage are dicey; the exoskeleton is soft and delicate. So don’t move yours!

Meanwhile, #1 is either rotting or changing color for the big reveal.

He is supposed to turn black or clear. He is turning golden brown. Against all odds, I remain hopeful.

The Chrysalis’ Story

Here you can see he’s getting angular. Clearly something is going on inside. I’ll paraphrase from this gory article. Enzymes are digesting the caterpillar! Inside him are embryonic-type cells growing called “imaginal disks.” One imaginal disk will become, for example, a wing; a butterfly has 4 wings. There are imaginal disks that form the legs, antennae, and other parts.

Inside this thing, until a few days ago, was a — yuck — “bag of rich fluid media” that the cells started growing on. He has been getting shorter.

“The entire internal contents of the caterpillar — the muscles, the entire digestive system, even the heart…the nervous system — is totally rebuilt. It’s like you took your…Ford into the shop and left it there for a week and it came out as a Cadillac.

What’s nerve racking is the black line at top. I can’t tell if it’s a discoloration or an open slit. There are parasites that bore a hole, but I’ve read nothing about a slit.

I add this shot because it shows a little better that the dots along the slit are an exquisite gold that goes beautifully with the chrysalis’ green.

The nail biter continues, folks. I do hope he’s still alive in there, parasite-free. This is why we don’t watch nature shows. Who can take the anxiety?

It won’t be long now, either way. We’ll know by Friday, you and I.

A Watched Chrysalis Never…

To refresh (from 7th grade science class?), butterflies go through four stages: egg, larva (caterpillar), pupa (chrysalis), and adult butterfly.

Friend says: 8-14 days till he emerges. He is on Day 7 and the chrysalis is getting lumpier, pointier. I believe the wings are forming inside! I’ll report how in the next post.

Cool feature: you know when he’s about to hatch because the chrysalis turns black or clear. Then it’s about 48 hours. Can’t wait.

He or she? The gender story is complicated.

Monarch Metamorphosis

A friend told me how her young sons pick a caterpillar from a milkweed plant every year. They put it into a container with some milkweed leaves for sustenance, and mesh over the top.

Crazily, the next day, this guy crawled towards me as I sat on our steps. I texted my friend a photo; she confirmed this was indeed a monarch caterpillar.

No idea what he was thinking, there was no greenery whatsoever in the direction he was headed. I grabbed the only container I could find. Clearly, the Forces had sent him my way.

It wasn’t a great container, but I was in a rush, afraid a bird would grab him.

He didn’t like it in there too much. He curled into a sad lump despite my careful selection of soil with clover growing in it. My friend said I needed some milkweed leaves and a stick for him to hang off of to do his thing.

Sure enough, he sprung to action.

You can see this is basically the container you get sesame noodles in. Not roomy. How was I to move him to something larger without causing permanent mental damage to us both?

Turned out I didn’t have to move him. Because I saw him that evening hanging upside down from the twig, shaped like the letter “J.”

I wondered, what’s he doing in there, man? I should have stuck around…taken some video…because look what I awoke to the next morning. I know I can watch it on YouTube, but I could have seen it live for God’s sake. It’s astonishing.

As my friend put, “They are like babies being born — always seem to do it at midnight!”

I don’t know what the heck is going on inside that chrysalis, but will research and report in for you. Honestly, how does it HAPPEN? How does he coat his entire self with silk? For that one, watch the short, time-lapsed link above from Fish and Wildlife.

This is how we know there’s something greater than ourselves in the cosmos. Stay tuned.

Shaping Up Nicely

Never seen it with a dangler bloom like this. I’m impressed!

The question is: will it open by Saturday night? Because it’s moving Sunday morning. Remember, it’s the NIGHT Blooming Cereus.

No way it’ll make the drive on Sunday intact. A new component to the nailbiter. My guess is Saturday is the night. But you just never know with NBC.

The Angle of the Dangle

Alas, Night Blooming Cereus bud #2 shriveled and died.

The way this beauty is hanging bodes poorly, but we’ll see. There is a fragility in how the flowers are connected to the plant–they often fall off before blooming.

As usual, it’s a nail biter, folks.

Blossom, Blossom, Who’s Got The Blossom?

It’s a miracle, children. A Flag Day miracle.

Thing never blooms this early.

You have to look hard.

Cereously Tryna Break Out of Here

I can’t tell if my Night Blooming Cereus has COVID Cabin Fever or if he’s trying to find his son across the street, but look at this baby go!

A week ago, we see him trying to bore through the ceiling.

 

Then he heads southwest, sensing a better way to make a break for it.

 

My guess: he wants to see his son, waving from across the street. I’ll have to ask my neighbor who owns him to do a drive-by at the window. The son is more mobile.

Which is exactly what the bloom viewing will have to be this year — drive-by — if we don’t get rid of this damned COVID!

It Always Makes Me a Little Sad

It always makes me a little sad when I see a critter at the end of the season that might not make it through the suddenly-cold night. Sure, it’s nature and all that, but what about this little feller? That was it? That was his life?

Not To Be Outdone…

…by Cereus or Son of Cereus, this gutsy little potato, totally unmonitored and uncared for, put on a show of his own.

There’s an I Dream of Jeannie bottle vibe to his photographic staging here. Ordinarily he lives, unobserved, in a forgotten window sill. He was happy for his moment in the spotlight. As are we all.

The Open Suitcase

A Miscellany of Travel Tidbits, Tips and Tales

msvtpoet

Just another WordPress.com site

New England Writer

The vibrancy of life is still alive in New England

The Adventures of Library Heather

In which our heroine decides to pursue a new and exciting career... and write about it.

Non Sequitur Living

Sometimes the logic just doesn't follow. TM ©2015, 2016 Janet McCarthy, all rights reserved.

Lava on Fire

Another Good Day in Rural America © 2012 - 2021 Ann Aikens ~ all rights reserved

Flourish in Progress

Another Good Day in Rural America © 2012 - 2021 Ann Aikens ~ all rights reserved

Yellingrosa Weblog

Poetry, Visual Arts, Music and IT Tech

>>New Hampshire Pulp Fiction<< Volume 5: LIVE FREE OR RIDE!

News and comments on the NH Pulp Fiction anthology series

art by natalya

Another Good Day in Rural America © 2012 - 2021 Ann Aikens ~ all rights reserved

EXIT ONLY

Because once you get off this road, there's just no getting back on

Joanna Funk

writes, plays piano, podcasts

art by natalya

Another Good Day in Rural America © 2012 - 2021 Ann Aikens ~ all rights reserved

The WordPress.com Blog

The latest news on WordPress.com and the WordPress community.

uppervalleygirl

Another Good Day in Rural America © 2012 - 2021 Ann Aikens ~ all rights reserved

%d bloggers like this: