THE LAST CATERPILLAR- DIARY OF (by me, not caterpillar, obviously)

Day 1 – it’s midwinter and that means rain and more rain, and, it’s cold, sometimes with light frosts. So,  I was astonished to see a Monarch caterpillar on the last and severely pruned Swan Plant in my garden. It didn’t look good and would die outdoors if we had a cold snap, so decided to bring it indoors at sunset. It’s quite small and seems thin  – the black stripes are too close together and the yellow almost hidden by them. Need to bring it indoors or it will die. Will do so at sunset as there is a bit of sun today, which may encourage it to eat.

Tucked up in bed, with thunder and lightning accompanying a deluge – oh no, forgot the caterpillar!

Day 2 – Still drizzling, but  go in search of the last caterpillar. No sign of it. Feeling really guilty about its soggy demise.

Day 3 – Sun bravely sending out a few lukewarm rays. Half heartedly look for the caterpillar – just in case. To my astonishment, it’s there, looking very shabby and shrunken, now it’s almost black. Not good.

Cut off the twig it is clinging to and bring it inside. Put the twig in a jam-jar of water with plastic wrap over the mouth – for the caterpillar’s safety – and place it in a sunny spot where it can warm up so that it can recommence eating.

Day 4 –has been eating apace and seems a bit bigger and fatter. Have high hopes for its future as a butterfly.

Davy 5 – Really tucking into the leaves on the new twig – ample proof of this on the paper towel  under jam-jar.

Day 6 – Still eating enthusiastically. Goes into a sort of trance when the sun starts setting or the temperature drops. Most grateful for the unexpected spell of warmish, sunny weather as it will help the caterpillar grow quickly so that it can pupate.

Day 7 – Can’t believe my eyes, another two caterpillars on the same depleted bush. One the size of the “last” caterpillar when I found it – can see now how much it has grown – and a very small one, which, sadly, expires during the very cold night despite being brought inside. At least its death didn’t go un-noticed and I shall dispose of its remains respectfully.

Day 8 – Neither of the surviving caterpillars starts eating still after 10am. Hope this doesn’t set them back. Still hoping for a Monarch butterfly or preferably two.

Day 9 – Caterpillar no 2 expires without warning.

Day 10 to 12 (or so – distracted by other things so forgot to write in the diary) – Caterpillar fat and shiny with yellow, black and white bands clearly discernible. Looks good except that it is very quiet, meditating on its future perhaps. Empties its stomach contents and doesn’t eat again.

Day 13 (or so) – It is a bit restless and seems to be inspecting its twig. Hope its suitable.

Day 14 – Twig has passed muster and caterpillar has attached its bottom to the twig with a silken pad (also from its bottom). It is just hanging about like an upside down question mark.

Day 16 – Something must happen soon as the caterpillar needs to turn into a green pupa (chrysalis) and hasn’t been doing anything about it yet. Decide to watch it all day. Time goes by and it’s like the watched pot. Distracted by something.  Suddenly remember, and return to find it is doing things behind my back. With sudden convulsive movements it is writhing itself into a green sheath from the head upwards towards the tail until it is solid green – the light green of the Swan Plant (Milkweed) on which it feeds. The thicker head section narrows whilst the tail section increases in girth. Eventually, it’s happy with its new shape and colour and is still once more. At the tail end there’s a black, crumpled skin which later falls off.

Day 20 - 28 – Nothing much happening, except it is taking on a blue-ish tinge which later turns brown and almost black. The skin is transparent now and the wings are discernible.

Day 29 – The chrysalis has just split down the back and a damp blog is struggling through the split. Finally, a crumpled small-winged, fat-bodied butterfly emerges. It rests briefly,  manoeuvres itself under the twig and hangs upside down. It is now pumping the liquid from its body into the wings which excruciatingly slowly expand to full size and shape. Sigh of relief, thought it might be disabled. It then inconsiderately squirts what must have been excess liquid onto my table. The first lot is red and the next couple of offloads somewhat lighter in colour.

It remains upside down, wiping its face with a little protuberance and begins to fan its still damp wings.

By now, it is seeing clearly and its head turns, following me as I move about observing it closely from various angles. It is also moving its antennae and gently rocking from side to side whilst furling and unfurling its long curled up tongue.

It excretes the last of the fluid from its body which is now slim and elongated and climbs to the top of the plant and then onto the curtain which hangs conveniently close until it reaches the rail.

It is a girl! She doesn’t have the male’s dark spots. As she’s the fourth generation of this summer, she will live through the winter (hopefully) and breed next season.

After several hours of pre-flight checks and much wing exercising, she takes her maiden flight!  It’s short and ends with a crash-landing on the table.  She tries a few more and then, as it’s another dry, warmish day, I hold out my hand so she can climb aboard for a trip outside where I hold up my hand and the breeze gives lift-off. She’s airborne and soars up and away.

I wish her well and hope she really is the last of the butterflies – the Swan plant is denuded.