The 'IN STARS' OF MONARCHY AN ONGOING MOLTING METAMORPHOSIS II

We all stand in awe of rainbows and other miraculous happenings in our world. More often we miss the smaller miracles quietly hidden from view. One such is the truly remarkable metamorphosis of the beloved Monarch butterfly. I am happy to continue sharing my experience of raising the caterpillars that create the butterflies. We left off last post with our caters molting and munching and nurturing their inner "imaginative cells" . . . of that which is becoming a butterfly. 

Caterpillars grow up really quickly . . . a toddler becomes a teenager in just days! This little mask next to an aphid . . . is not a toy that was tossed out . . . it is a protective face capsule and the only part of the cater that remains behind until the last molt into a chrysalis, for it is not eaten as the discarded skin, each time the cater molts.  Toddler and teenager are not the words of choice in the scientific community. I am simply anthropomorphizing for a story effect, which I hope you will not mind. The monarch and other caterpillars are called 'instars' throughout their molting phase. With each molt they graduate to a higher number until grade five, when they become a pupa or chrysalis.  

This little fellow or lass has just freed itself of yet another girdle of form fitting skin and is now most likely a full fledged teenager. A proud fourth instar all wet and tired from the ordeal of getting out of that tight skin. Lets call him Sunny. Note the tiny face mask on the leaf behind the fragile lad and the delicate painted toenails on his first three true legs near his cheery yellow face. There is such intricate beauty in all of nature's creatures.

Stay with me and Aria while she goes through contractions and contortions pulling herself out of this old skin. Mind you the skin is only a few days old . . . can you imagine growing out of your clothes so quickly!? Breathe Aria! Now push! You can see the older face mask cupped on to her face.

How exhausting just to watch her laborious task. Her long tentacles are wet and slicked back just free of the old skin. Just a bit more to go now Aria. Ladies remember those girdle days . . . now called foundation garments . . . well imagine . . .  no hands! Perhaps Aria's legs help move the skin. 

Free at last! Aria is thankful to be rid of the old charcoal colored skin and neatly piles it at the end. Is she not lovely? I like to think of the dots of white on her legs and prolegs, as tokens towards the milky white liquid in Milkweed (The white dots reappear on the wings and body of the butterfly.), that somewhat protects the caters and later the butterfly from prey. Since I have seen all birds going after the monarchs and the caters having many prey too I am not convinced the toxicity is full proof.  Adaptation at play no doubt. Aria will lie here for a bit now and rest . . .  she is very vulnerable, but I will remain and watch over my now near adult fifth instar ward. 

When she perks up, she will turn around and begin to dine on the rich skin until it is all gone and there will be no trace of her former self . . . she is almost all grown up now and over the next few days she will have a ravenous appetite chomping away towards her final caterpillar chapter. I will have to gather many Milkweed plants to help her reach her goal. 

Her skin offers important protein and nourishment . . .  after her labor she is a very hungry caterpillar. 

The Monarch caterpillar houses beneath its skin a silk gland, heart, stomach, intestine, colon, brain and tracheae or air tubes connected to spiracles or holes along the thorax and abdomen enabling the caterpillar to breathe. Aria has tentacles on the front and end of her body, which often are mistaken for antennae. These tentacles or filaments grow larger and more animated as the caterpillar grows. Sometimes called horns, their tentacles can help scare off predators in the wild, especially flies and wasps that try to lay eggs on their body. The caterpillar can turn and try to strike invading insects with their tentacles. These expressive black lines are constantly drawing circles and assorted scribbles in the air. They may reveal moods and perhaps play a role in how the caterpillars communicate with each other. When fourth and fifth instars, the manner in which they sometimes hold their tentacles reminds me of goats with long ears falling down around their faces.  There are also microscopic hair-like tactile setae, for sensing touch and hearing, dispersed over the body of the caterpillar. Aria is highly equipped to feel and express herself. 

Now it is serious business of eating and building . . .  with no time to think about ingesting too much toxicity of the Milkweed juice. To avoid this Aria will go to the base of the leaf next to the stem and carve out a notch-like portion . . . somewhat like the slice of wood foresters take out of a tree before cutting it. She is actually craftily cutting off the flow of the milky latex substance to the leaf and can go all out eating without taking any rests, for there is an important date she must keep . . .  coming up soon. 

These two might be Cass and Polly named after Castor and Pollux the twin gods hanging in the heavens to the left of Orion. They mostly harmoniously share the leaf down to the nub. Occasionally they grow intolerant and 'bark' at each other with their animated tentacles. They sometimes deliberately collide, like walruses or sea lions on a beach engaged in a challenge. This bit of conflict is very short lived and they go back to sharing the leaf and taking turns carving. In my orderly commodious community of six, the caterpillars seem mostly forgiving and compatible. Some prefer the solitary life and chew alone, while others like these two enjoy dining together.

Well with all this eating you can imagine there must be a goodly amount of frass falling about. You are right for indeed there is. When I go through the process of tidying my caterpillar community, I am reminded of a children's book I would read to my son by Ernst Kreidolf . Dream Garden has many short stories and poems with enchanting illustrations. One poem is titled 'The  Caterpillar Garden'. A gentle moth named Mr. Ermine has a caterpillar garden and loves it very much.  A dung beetle carries a miniature wheel barrel into a picket fence area, where various kinds of caterpillars are kept. The beetle shovels all the droppings and wheels its nearly full load towards a compost heap. The owner asks him to be sure the caterpillars do not escape, but as always, they all disappear one day. Clearly the beetle caretaker was not aware of a signal to watch out for regarding the droppings. The droppings are noteworthy, as they change in shape with the different instars. At first the form is but a speck of black, then with each molt it takes on a more solid shape corresponding to the structure of Tootsie Roll candy. As the caterpillar progresses towards its final molt, the frass gives a clue. By the final molt, there are four segments to the fresh green droppings, alerting me that the caterpillar may soon wander from the community, if it does not find a suitable stem for unveiling its chrysalis. One to go for Aria. What a lot of words and fuss about a bit of frass you might think. I jokingly mention to friends that I will bag and sell the caterpillar droppings as fertilizer. 

Sure enough after noticing Aria's frass change, I made sure she was content with my offerings of stems.  

Aria is now spinning her own destiny with the silk threads she brings forth from within herself. Her head turns from the left to the right measuring out each thread, like a silk-filled bobbin a weaver throws back and forth through a looms warp.  Her forelegs carefully shape the mound of wet silk like an adept sculptor working with clay. Hundreds of minute nearly invisible threads meld together to build the node.

Aria is securing many other threads up, over and around sedum flower branches, the leaf her silk node is attached to and the sedum stem, to help hold the silk mat and node. Her life depends upon her skilled craft in creating a secure toggle. Aria’s tentacles seem to aid in this process. They remind me of a typewriter arm that I once used to push back and forth while typing. Each time she moves her head to the left pulling out a piece of silk thread, her right tentacle makes an exact up and down movement. Her left tentacle repeats the exact movement, when her head moves towards the right. It is very amusing and intriguing to watch.

I always feel a bit sad at this time . . . I will miss Aria's animated antics and her superbly stripe body. I wonder if she will remember me when she becomes a butterfly. While attending to my small caterpillar community, now mostly preparing for their fall to J formations, there is another question I mull over regarding remembrance. I wonder if the true essence of the Monarch caterpillar continues living in the transformed butterfly. The experiences a caterpillar endures may remain with the butterfly, when it takes leave of its earth bound body. Will Aria remember being a caterpillar when she is a butterfly? How does this 'essence' manage all the change?  This line of thinking brings Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures In Wonderland to mind.  In particular the scene where Alice comes upon a large mushroom the same size as herself. It reads, “...her eyes immediately met those of a large blue caterpillar, that was sitting on the top, with its arms folded, quietly smoking a long hookah, and taking not the smallest notice of her or of anything else.”  (This is a mood I often sense in some of my caterpillar wards.) 

“Who are YOU?” said the Caterpillar. 

Alice replies that she is not sure who she is, as she has changed so many times during the day. She tries to explain “...being so many different sizes in a day is very confusing.”

“It isn’t,” said the Caterpillar.

“Well, perhaps you haven’t found it so yet,” said Alice, “but when you have to turn into a chrysalis  - you will some day, you know - and then after that into a butterfly, I should think you’ll feel it a little queer, won’t you?”

“Not a bit,” said the Caterpillar.

So perhaps these courageous creatures simply take on change with this same attitude, whereas we humans are not so adapted to change for some reason or other. Maybe we can learn from these little guys. What do you think?

For now I am happy to be able to observe Arias talent in making her perfectly crafted silk button and her skill in finding it while turned around. When she feels her fastening is firmly fixed, Aria begins to gingerly release one pair of legs at a time. I become anxious for her watching each pair slowly set free from its hold. 

Then finally she lets go!  Swinging like a little flying trapeze artist, Aria, held by her claspers, hangs and catches herself.  This takes some amount of pluckiness and trust in her ability to get it right. Her head is curving up creating a J, and her six true legs are again held close to her mouth as seen each time the caterpillars molt. Aria’s head is nodding up and down as if conducting an internal orchestration. I can see the blue green of the chrysalis beneath her skin. This is the time I must say goodbye to my little friend, for I will not recognize her in her new shape and togs. I say goodbye to the expressive tentacles and the triangle in her mask. I will miss her yellow, white and black body and all her funny ways.  She like Cass, Polly and the other Monarch caterpillars, has completed a remarkable journey and is giving birth to a new form that will carry her on yet another journey. Surely her future flights are no more astounding than her accomplishments as a caterpillar that was able to change, let go and grow wings.

Meanwhile the more social bunch are getting settled under a Hosta leaf. Holding on with his prolegs this fellow . . .  I have not named  . . . reaches down to be sure there is room to hang. There must be room enough for the chrysalis beneath the skin you see to hand plus room for the butterfly to fall out. 

These guys are still working on their silk buttons . . . I am sure there is no contest . . . each creates his own in his own way and time. Just as each will let go towards their shared destiny in his or her own caterpillar time. 

  Truly when we look at these caters we think we are seeing caterpillars, but just beneath the thin layer of skin another form is already predominate. They are more chrysalis now than cater. It is an amazing masquerade. The final curtain call is coming very soon. 

Here we find Cass and Polly finishing their silk buttons too.   

You can see that the tentacles are at different stages on each of the twins. Cass is closer to becoming fully her new self, for her tentacles are spiraling and lifeless, where Pollys are still smooth and straight. This is an important sign to look for, so that you will not miss the unveiling of the chrysalis. The tentacles have remained expressive throughout the life of the caters and ends with the telling of the moment the caterpillar gives way to its chrysalis.

Inside Aria’s, Cass's and Polly's bodies along with the other three muses, many alterations have been happening preparing for their new wardrobes. Throughout their caterpillar bodies are what scientist call ‘imaginal disks’ or cell constellations, which create the formation of their butterfly structure. Since their first days as caterpillars, their caterpillar cells have, caringly cultivated these hidden treasures or ‘imaginal’ cell groups. In the last days of their caterpillar life, these cell clusters speed up their work of merging or melding together into their butterfly components. Perchance their nodding heads are engaging in the final churning of the pot, blending the ingredients of the chrysalises.

As Cass and Polly hang upside down from a mass of silk threads, their bodies go between stillness and sudden waves of contractions, creating the illusion of flux or a mother in labor. They are giving birth to their new form, which is showing through their skin. Where once their colors were yellow and white covered by her black striped cuticle skin, a blue green color is visible, especially around their heads. There are still yellow and white stripes covering their suspending body, though they are receding. They will hang this way for several hours before their final curtain call revealing their beautiful chrysalises. Polly pulls up suddenly towards her hind legs or claspers holding fast to the silk node, as if doing a sit up. I startled him when I brushed against the Hosta stem by mistake. This quick movement might be a defense mechanism, for he does look as if trying to curl up in a protective manner. After a minute, he relaxes back into his J position, and continues to hold his first six legs in a prayer position near his head, which is moving up and down. 

It is time! Cass's skin is splitting just behind his head and the moment has come for the chrysalis to emerge. Next time we will see the varied magical stages of the chrysalis. It has taken a long while to share all the many details of the Monarch caterpillar. I am wishing you all many viewings of this marvel of a metamorphosis. Until next time. . . Happy butterfly watching! 

A Royal Beginning . . . The Metamorphosis Of The Monarch Butterfly

I would like to share with you some of my observations over the years, while raising Monarch caterpillars. It is a truly wondrous wandering through days and weeks of change. Where else to begin but at the beginning . . . with an egg a bit larger than an aphid filled with an off white bundle just about to embark on a magical journey. A Monarch butterfly egg attached here by it's mother may appear still to those viewing its delicately etched casing.

There is constant movement of change going on within the hard protective shell,  where there is a wax lining helping to keep the forming caterpillar moist. After a few days a teeny black head appears at the tip of the egg. With a magnifying glass I can see it moving and soon it cleverly carves an exit hole through the shell.

Once the little ivory creature emerges it makes breakfast of the entire nutritious casing . . . nothing is wasted and it leaves hardly a trace of its former vessel. Free of its tight quarters like a jack-in-the-box granted liberty, the one twenty-fifth of an inch long caterpillar begins to explore its new world. 

The female Monarch usually lays one egg to one Milkweed plant. I most often find them on the fuzzy underside of the leaves. Sometimes there are two or more fastened to one plant. They can be found on the upper or under sides of leaves and on the dangling pink Milkweed florets . . .  or even the seed pods. If the mother is in a hurry almost anywhere on the Milkweed plant will have to do. There is much danger lurking about the plant too. I have seen small white spiders camped out near other intricate Monarch domes . . . in wait for what it considers a delicious morsel . . . the unknowing cater . . .  to evacuate its finely ridged eggshell.

This egg is merely a empty clear casing. The female  butterfly carries anywhere from  300 to 700  eggs and sometimes they are not all 'good eggs'.

The vulnerable caterpillar moves through the hairy landscape of leaf, likened to a silver glade or meadow, over streams and tributaries of milk. First, it grazes on milkweed hairs, thereby making a clearing to the leaf surface. Carefully, it must begin to nibble a hole that will not open a large stream. The caterpillar is so small it chews between the veins of milk-like fluid and is not caught in a flood.

A tiny hole soon appears on the leaf. It will grow in size as the skilled leaf cutter persists, and bite-by-bite, the caterpillar grows larger itself.  I look through the minuscule hole with my magnifying glass and see the tiny, shinny, inky, black head meticulously cutting parenthesis shaped slices with the same determined spirit as its mothers, when she carried our her destiny. Within a day or so we begin to see the colors of the cater emerging. I think it such a cute little fellow. 

Like most young, there is the need for quiet time and I do find the little ones napping a good bit between molts. After a couple of days steadily eating and resting, hidden in the down-like fuzz of the leaf, the caterpillar is nearly ready for its first molt. The Monarch caterpillar does not have a skeleton but an exoskeleton or cuticle, which protects the inner soft parts of the caterpillar. This hard skin cannot stretch to allow it to grow, so the caterpillar must molt, or shed its skin, five times before it becomes a butterfly. 

Here we find our little ward just after its first molt. Note the once solid black-patent head is now covered in a design. 

Often we will find these toddler caters near the top of the plant munching on the young tender leaves. The scientific term for caterpillar is larva and comes from the Latin meaning ghost and mask. Truly the small creature is masking a notable transformation, for while it is a caterpillar it is always becoming a butterfly.  Inside, its body cells and hormones are casting the parts it plays simultaneously. The caterpillar grows larger on the outside with each molt, while its inner parts evolve towards its fascinating metamorphosis.

This little face mask reminds me of a fencing mask.  It often looks as though the cater could fall off the surface but when the caterpillar crawls, it holds onto a leaf or stem with all sixteen legs. Each proleg has numerous minuscule hooks called crochets, which cling to the leaf and the silk thread the caterpillar spins, along the way, allowing the caterpillar to reach out with its six true legs to seek higher or lower ground. The silk is spun by the spinneret and gives the little caterpillar something more to grasp while moving around on a leaf. Similar to a rock climber, the caterpillar can also drop a silk line and move quickly down from one leaf to another. 

Here the little face mask is somehow still attached to the new face. The secure little cater works hard to be rid of it. It is also quite a labor to take off the old tight dress. Note how the short tentacles are all slicked back . . . like an Elvis hair do. 

The yellow and white stripes are the actual caterpillar but the black stripes are part of the clear skin. Here the tentacles are perked up and we can see the face is actually yellow.

The Monarch caterpillar has three separate body parts; a head, thorax and an abdomen. The head has twelve simple or weak eyes called ocelli, two small antennae, mouthparts, which include an upper and lower lip with strong jaws or mandibles, scent/sensory organs called maxillary palpi and a spinneret for spinning silk. The thorax has six true legs while the abdomen displays ten prolegs also called false legs, as they do not stay with the caterpillar when it becomes a butterfly. The last two prolegs are also named claspers and they play a most important role in the caterpillar’s life. 

These tiger striped caterpillars to me are the true heros of what we all admire in their later self. They are steadfast towards their purpose and constantly continue nurturing what they are becoming. I do not believe they get their due. I have harvested small Milkweed plants growing in harms way along the paths and have enjoyed the ritual of raising these magical creatures for nearly thirty years. I have written a book proposal of their metamorphosis that was consider a narrow slice of a narrow topic . . . so no book was born, but the joy continues. Now I am at risk of creating doubt in some of my readers . . . I admit to being slightly obsessive here, for I love the metaphor to our own struggles in life . . . to our striving to become who we really are. I find these amazing caters inspiring in how they pursue their goals and will continue with a few more post to show . . . the complete metamorphosis of the Monarch Butterfly. One thing to keep in mind is the size of the tentacles. They will double in size before the final molt into a jewel-like chrysalis. This fellow has more molts to go before he hangs in a 'J' and begins the final transformation towards the end of its life journey. Then that too will be a new beginning . 

August Bloom Day

The blooms most active in the north corner of my jungle are creating beauty and a feeding station.

Tree Hydrangea, Sedums, Artemisia, Hibiscus Rose of Sharon, Thalictrum Lavender Mist, Hydrangea, Hostas and Globe Thistle have been flowering for weeks.

Wild Honeybees were all over these blooms a few days ago.

Hummers delight in the lily- like Hosta Royal Standard blooms. 

I am often capturing images of hummingbirds sipping from these rich Hibiscus syriacus blooms too.

Looking through Rose of Sharon towards the rotund Hydrangeas, whose name I have forgotten... 

Late blooming Rosa rugosa seen through a Lavender Mist.

They just keep sending out buds.

Even the stems of Lavender Mist take on a purple hue. It can reach up to five or six feet tall. 

Offering a bit of camouflage to little fauns. 

Out in the middle meadow-like garden Joe-Pye Weed (Eupatorium purpureum) blends well with Continus (Smoke bush) and is a favorite of many kinds of bees and butterflies. 

Looking to the left we see another Hydrangea paniculata in the background. Standing by it one day it seemed I heard and saw the entire wild honeybee hive all over the panicles of blooms.

Echinops Globe thistle unfurls countless starry petals from its prickly sepals that this Pearly Crescentspot enjoys dipping it's proboscis into.

Marjoram is favored by the ghostly Cabbage White Butterfly. This photo was actually taken a week or so ago.

Impatiens Roylei blooms almost anywhere in the garden . . . here she brings us back to the north garden before a vaporous White Birch. This is an offering from New England for the Garden Bloggers Bloom Day . . . go to Carol's May Dreams Gardens to see other blooms from around the world.