monarchs

One Saturday morning as I was cleaning the caterpillar cages, I noticed one of the eggs looked dark on top. Then I saw the egg was moving and realized I was watching a caterpillar hatch!

I thought I would remember all of the details of this caterpillar’s life – when he hatched, when he molted, and on and on – but of course I didn’t. It’s hard enough to remember with just one caterpillar, but we were taking care of six and, eventually, nine. But I did take a photo every day, with a dime as a reference for his size.

July 18 – newly emerged and eating the egg:

July 19:

July 20:

July 21:

July 22:

That night, I found him hanging by a silk thread off the side of the cage. I hadn’t seen anything like this before – I didn’t even realize they spun silk for moltings until this moment – and didn’t know what to do. Was he stuck? Was this part of the molting process? I wasn’t sure if I should intervene or let him figure it out.

But 20 minutes later, he was still there and appeared to be struggling because he was twisting and turning, and was even folding himself upside-down, seeming to be trying to bite at the spot where he was stuck. I decided I had to do something, so I gently brushed a Q-tip on the side of the cage, sweeping him onto the “floor.” He then quickly walked off the thread himself, and I realized I had done the right thing.

July 23:

July 24:

July 25 – suddenly, they get really big really fast:

July 26:

July 27:

July 28 – last day before the transformation:

Night of July 28 – getting into position. Their bodies are shorter and fatter at this point.

Morning of July 29 – hanging from the silk pad:

Later that morning, a chrysalis:

Eight days later, the green is gone and orange-and-black wings are showing through:

The next morning, I woke up early to try to catch the emergence. And then I waited… and waited. Two hours later, he finally emerged:

And now I had confirmation that I was right to call it a male. (Though that was just luck, since you can’t tell the difference at the caterpillar stage.)

Unfortunately, he emerged on the first rainy day in more than a week. Best practices say you shouldn’t release butterflies in the rain because they’re too light to tolerate raindrops, so this was the one I previously mentioned looking wistfully out the window:

The next morning was sunny, and he was ready to be released:

One last comparison with a dime:

Then I moved him to a black-eyed susan, and off he flew:

More about our monarchs

It was only a matter of time before my noticing the goings-on of monarchs in the garden turned into fostering caterpillars in our kitchen.

According to several monarch sites, only around 5 to 10 percent of monarch eggs result in butterflies. The rest are struck by predators (including ladybugs!) or disease. And the population of adult monarchs that overwinter in Mexico has dropped dramatically over the last several years.

We’re doing our part to help the population rebound by bringing them indoors. I want to help them all, but we only have so much space (and time), so I’m doing the best I can with the ones in our care. This generation, that meant nine caterpillars: three brought in as caterpillars, six that hatched inside. There also were three other eggs that didn’t hatch.

The last six weeks have been a blur of eggs, caterpillars, moltings, milkweed, chrysalises, and wings. Plus dozens of milkweed leaves.

And poop. Lots and lots of poop. (Or to be more scientific, “frass.”) When they’re little, the poop looks like pepper flakes.

I don’t prefer the term “larva.” I know it’s scientific, but it sounds like something undesirable and writhing and creepy. I’m going with “caterpillar.”

Same with “pupa” – it’s a beautiful green chrysalis.

The system I’ve settled with:

incubator (for eggs that haven’t hatched) – this would be better with a clear lid

nursery (for the littlest hatchlings)

small cage and big cage for caterpillars, sorted by size, using nylons over the openings so they don’t escape

laundry hamper for when a butterfly hatches but I’m not around to let it go for a couple hours. We found out with the first butterfly that after its wings are dry, it will be ready to start flying – and then it panics when it can’t climb back up the plastic walls.

These hampers give them more space to move and even fly a bit.

I’ve gotten pretty good at relocating chrysalises – something I never thought I would do. They form the chrysalises in the plastic containers, but most days, leaving them there isn’t a good idea because I am not home to release them right away. One site suggests knotting dental floss around the cremaster, and that works well. I then tie it on the strap of the laundry hamper.

I watched two caterpillars transform into chrysalises – a process that’s both strange and exciting.

The sites say that butterflies emerge after 8 to 12 days of being in a chrysalis. Our first chrysalis started turning dark on day 5, and by day 6 I was fearing the worst. There are a number of things that can happen, from tachnid flies to black death to the OE parasite. But my worry was unfounded: the butterfly was simply finishing earlier than expected! I was so relieved to see wings starting to appear through the chrysalis.

Sure enough, at 8:20am – when I was in another room getting my things together to go to work – it eclosed (scientific term for emerged).

The emergence happens so fast, it’s very easy to miss. Once it even happened when I was in the same room, and I still missed it! But I did see two of the nine butterflies come out.

Then comes the release. Many of the butterflies arrived on work days, so I needed to come home over lunch to let them out. The first was released on a windy roller-coaster of a day. (Yes, I did get teary-eyed when she flew away.)

We released second caterpillar at our friends’ brand-new home; their daughters named him Eric. He took a short test flight and then rested in a tree.

One exciting day, THREE monarchs emerged!

We had to keep two overnight – one because of weather (don’t release them in the rain) and one because we weren’t home during the afternoon – and they did not like being kept inside.

Though we did provide them with a delicious dinner.

I’ve learned a lot: for example, the caterpillar I filmed “out on a stroll” in the garden was probably looking for a quiet place to molt. (Good rule of thumb: they know what they’re doing and don’t need help from humans.)

They eat a lot. Fortunately we have enough milkweed. They don’t seem to like the butterfly weed, even though plenty of eggs have been laid on butterfly weed. Now that it’s late in the season, though, the milkweed isn’t looking so good. I’ve been trimming it to encourage new growth.

And now: the final generation of the season is underway, the ones that will migrate for the winter. So far I’ve found two cats and four eggs. It’s a lot of work, but I think it’s worth it.