We'd been watching our hanging chrysalises for just under a week. Watching them change from light to dark. Watching their wings become more transparent through the thin casing. I thought a few more days of nothing happening remained...until Matt walked in at dinnertime, two days ago, and exclaimed! "What?!, you have a butterfly?" From the table, we all questioned him back in surprise. "What? That's much sooner than the written 7-10 days!" "Yes! And it looks like you have another coming out right now." Perfect, I thought, now Matt (who'd never seen a butterfly come out either) could watch along with the kids. We'd missed the first, but we would see number two!
Feet raced to the counter for prime viewing! Excited, we pulled the butterfly net closer. Pulled it way too fast and way too hard! All the remaining chrysalises began violently shaking. The paperwork sent along with the caterpillars explained that this shaking motion is their form of natural defense to ward of things approaching it. Makes sense, and we'd seen it while watching over the week. But this was creepy and endless. Traumatic and hard to shrug off when it's full-speed didn't stop. In the middle of the shaking, out came number two. Problem was it got tangled within the chrysalis. It didn't just drop out easily. Finally it found a way to wiggle back out the top...ending with a very crippled wing. Not normal. Then, as I tried to explain that they pump blood into their wings to strengthen and straighten them, the first butterfly began dripping red liquid. Blood. Really? Not normal? As my kids watch, I now need to explain one bleeding to death, one damaged, and the others perhaps dying inside due to shock? NOT what I had visualized when I ordered this "beautiful" thing to observe...
(Turning back to the paperwork, I read that this "red liquid" was not blood but the "extra coloring" that the butterfly doesn't need. Makes sense...afterbirth. But nasty! That was obviously a detail I had long forgotten since my days in the zoo's butterfly exhibit. That was obviously something I didn't want splattering after each coming butterfly. Nasty!)
With no signs of other openings, we headed back to table. Regretting moving the net. Still with the heebie-jebbie background sound of the chrysalises shaking violently.
Next day, we missed one at breakfast. I saw the next one come out. Much less traumatic, but such a short process that there was no way of getting the camera's zoom to document any of it. That meant five in and five out. Sigh of relief that they didn't ALL die and require explaining! No fun in that.
Throughout the day we continued to watch. I figured they'd all be out by lunch. Knowing the drop out is literally less than ten seconds, we stood watch not wanting to miss it. A few more came. Semi-noticed, we watched them hang and dry their wings. Meg then took up the post of constant watch. With three left she was to yell, if something happened. I headed out to bring in the garbages and came back in questioning if anything had changed. "No. It's just boring." I peeked in to verify, and realized that two of the remaining three had snuck out unnoticed! Within my under five minute garbage run, they'd slipped out.
Stink! One remaining...
Would we see it? Would we all be pleasant and enjoy this last chance of this whole "experience," rather than yelling and throwing elbows when we couldn't see perfectly? Could the camera catch it?
Minutes later, I saw it beginning to break out. I called the girls over from the table. I zoomed in with the camera. The girls were happy. The camera worked. It was a good, brief moment. Thank goodness we had ten chances to get that one second "right!" (pictured below) Cool moment. Yes, a unexplainable little miracle of change.
But, I quickly realized it would be a ONCE-in-a-lifetime moment at our house. Actually, I'd probably decided that somewhere between butterfly three and four... Red splattered across the netting (cropped from the pictures), crunchy chrysalises left behind, and creepy eyes peering at me (when I tried to brave up and put the required flowers in "for fun viewing"), were signs that this was not my thing. I could maybe keep a brave face in front of the kids a bit longer. I was excited ALL ten had come out for the kids to witness. But REALLY, I couldn't get them OUT of my kitchen fast enough (when I showed Matt how the zoom worked for the last one, he replied..."GROSS!"). There was a lingering smell about them. One that I now associate with the many purple Lysol wipes I used to clean up after them (won't be buying those again seeing as they now cause a gag reflex in me!).
I didn't share the "enjoy feeding and watching them for a couple of days" from the paperwork with the kids. Instead, I crossed fingers that Matt got home while daylight remained so that they could be set free OUTside!
Thankfully, Matt did make it home before the sun set. As a group of five, we headed to the garden. Matt unzipped. Paige had no hesitation putting her entire arm into the net to let one climb on her fingers. Nor did she miss a beat in chasing them around the yard to repeatedly pick them up and admire them. Most of the butterflies were patient with her handling and hung on, motionless, for a bit. A few flew off independently. That was fun to watch. Watching the kids' excitement about the release was a GREAT part of this whole thing!
Meg needed a bit more encouragement to get a finger near any of them. Creepy they remained. I empathized with her, but got one on my finger and held it "close, but not touching" for her to examine. Can you read her look of "I'm loving it at arms length"...and my look of "well, it ended out alright!"? Meg chased them around the garden and was willing to touch the leaves they sat on. And, she was up bright an early and snuck out back to see how many had stuck close through the night (two). She shows excitement from afar.
I think, after this whole evolving cycle, I side with Meg. These "Painted Ladies" are neat, interesting, beautiful, a flying favorite...IF at a distance! I'll smile at their wings as they fly by. I'll likely keep a count of them over the next few weeks (Their lifespan is just 2 weeks to 2 months, with the sole purpose of reproducing.). I'll remember the fun moment of their release. But reordering? No. Washing out the net for next year? No! Still considering ladybugs for next year? No.
I have a soft spot of bugs OUT in my garden...but I don't have the stomach for body functions nor the love of fuzzy bodies!
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