Counting Butterflies

Things don't always go exactly as we plan.  

Take butterflies.  

When I first saw three monarch cocoons in the flower garden, I visualized the interesting photos I was going to capture when the creatures emerged.

The first butterfly hatched when we were gone.

When we returned, it was still clinging to the transparent shell that had been its home for about 2 weeks.

It stayed there for some time, drying its wings and doing little stretches, before taking a short flight to some nearby foliage.  

After another rest, it headed off into the blue.

One of the cocoons that remains has been there for 16 days, the other, 17.  

By different accounts, the process should take 8 to 10 days, or 10 to 14 days.  

At this point, I'm facing the fact that it is unlikely the small creatures 

will ever break free from their gilded prisons.

While in butterfly watch mode, a few things became apparent.

At the outset I should have remembered the old adage (paraphrased):

"Don't count your butterflies before they hatch."

I also noticed that it's not always practical to plan one's schedule around a bug, 

even if it might become a butterfly.

In things as light as butterflies, and as weighty as our own lives, 

it's good to remember the ancient wisdom:

Every living creature is in the hands of God.

Job 12:10

Of course, there's always next year.  

If our live butterfly makes it to Mexico, 

maybe the offspring will return here next year 

and lay hundreds of eggs on our milkweed plant.  

Then, who knows?   

But there I go, counting butterflies again.  

Oh well, one could do worse than be a counter of butterflies.

Waiting For Water to Boil

Titmice have been feasting lately on a sunflower seed head on a table on the deck.  

They come one at a time, 

harvesting the seeds in neat rows before they eat them or store them away.

Meanwhile, the monarch chrysalis continues to darken.

The caterpillar to monarch butterfly should take 10 to 14 days,

or so I've read;

this is day twelve, and it's starting to feel like waiting for water to boil.

 From the deck, Barley watches me as I watch the cocoon.

"Wake me up when it happens."

Linking with Camera Critters

The Miracle Continues

On the underside of an iris leaf, 

the small monarch chrysalis is changing daily. 

 It's a little darker today, with more definition.  

I can't wait.

Monarch Watch

Somehow in grade school, 

I missed the part where the students stand around a jar 

and watch a butterfly emerge from a cocoon, 

and I've always felt like my education wasn't quite complete.

So, a few years back, when I saw a monarch chrysalis attached to one of the flowers in our flowerbed, I was delighted to be positioned in the inner circle around the jar.  For several days, I watched the soft green cocoon, with its bright spots of shiny gold, until the small jewel became translucent, and the familiar black and gold of a monarch, though faint, began to show through.

We had to make a day trip out of town, and when we can back, the first thing I checked was the cocoon.  We were only gone the better part of one day, but during that time, the contents of the bright green and gold package had flown away, and all that remained was a limp, empty skin.

It wasn't until recently that I saw one again.  

Last week, six fat monarch caterpillars ate their way 

through the butterfly milkweed plant near the house...

When they were quite satiated, they made their way off, one by one.  

I located three of them later,

 hanging limp on the underside of leaves of nearby plants.

The transformation came overnight.

We woke in the middle of the night Thursday to the sound of pounding rain, 

and I wondered about those small green treasures,

but in the morning they were fine.

It's supposed to take about ten days for a butterfly to emerge,

and I have my calendar marked.

Stay tuned.

Linking with Weekly Top Shot

and Camera Critters