Phenology Report: Monarchs: Part 3

I’ve always wanted to raise a monarch butterfly. Recently it dawned on me that I own an homestead and I’m not dead yet. Now was the time. (In light of certain events in 2018 I’ve taken to returning to the basic joys in life. The headier heights of more adult concerns are on the back burner for a while (and the house looks like it).)

I always walk to the mailbox with my dog. Time is taking its toll (on both of us but the clock runs faster for a dog). Each day the walk gets slower. Two weeks ago I started roaming in the ditch observing milkweeds. My dog walks the path while I’m the one rooting around in the weeds. Our roles have reversed.

Some ecological observations: My understanding of milkweed was that it’s damn near poison to everything. (With the exception of monarch caterpillars, which are themselves poison to the birds that might otherwise eat them.) Yet many leaves have a bite or a nip taken out of them. In particular I found a few reddish insects that were presumably eating the milkweed… or just hanging out there. So much for my view of monarch caterpillars as the sole leaf eater; a koala analogue for the eucalyptus-like milkweed. As with all things ecological, reality is messier than theory.

I didn’t bother looking for eggs. Finding something the size of a poppy seed while standing in tick territory requires more dedication that I’ve got. Also elderdog needed my attention.

Even so, I verified that there were no monarch caterpillars. I saw milkweed, monarch butterflies, and no caterpillars. WTF? I was frustrated.

I began my search in mid-July. After two weeks I was convinced I was either too late or doing something stupid. However, I’m not one to quit easily. On the 15th day of informally checking I found a tiny, ugly, squib of a 1/4″ long caterpillar. Squinting real hard I could tell it was a miniature monarch caterpillar.

Note: some insect life looks exactly the same through several orders of magnitude in size. So it is with the monarch caterpillar. The thing I was looking for was a handsome 3″ beast. The thing I found was a grain of rice.

I left it there.

“Did you find one?” Mrs. Curmudgeon is always supportive of my various vision quests, both large and small.

“Yep.”

Mrs. Curmudgeon eyed the huge jar I’d prepared for my project. “And?”

“They’ve got food, water, and habitat. Might as well let ’em grow.”

This last statement is a difference in cunning between the seven year old I once was and the hunter I am now. I’m comfortable letting the goal play loose. I can reel it in when I want. Perhaps this is part of the wisdom of age.

Two days later they were more common. I found a handful of little grains of rice. How long was this going to take? I suppose I could look up the lifecycle but… well now look at this!

One caterpillar was ahead of its peers. Ten minutes later it was named, in a jar, and eating dinner with the rest of the family. Yes, there are men that’ll put a caterpillar in a jar and leave it in sight for dinner… yes I’m that sort of fella. And yes I named it.

I present to you, Sebastian:

It’s good to be a kid at heart.

A.C.