November 3, 2012 by Cynthia
It was the sharp colour on dead leaves that caught my eye. About two weeks ago. Closer inspection turned up a monarch caterpillar. Surprisingly plump fellow for the decaying stalks of milkweed in his vicinity.
With drought and all sorts of fancy weather patterns, we spotted no monarch caterpillars this year, assuming, like everything else in the garden, they bloomed and flew off early.
But here was a longshot. Closing in on November, no food source, and nighttime temperatures edging toward a freeze. To improve his chances, I relocated him to a more secluded spot in the garden where milkweed leaves remained large and green.
Just that night a storm blew through, by morning I found no trace. Wherever it was, I wished it well.
Cleaning up the garden this week, there are few leaves left on any tree or plant. Filling a composting bag, I turned to scoop up another leaf pile when I noticed it. Hanging by the slimmest of threads on the edge of the bag, the unmistakable form of a monarch chrysalis, green sheathed cocoon with golden zipper, caught on the bag itself. From the location, my guess is I had seen this fellow before. It wove its chrysalis onto a dead leaf that promptly blew into the garden, leaving it dreadfully exposed.
I tied a tiny thread on the chrysalis stem, suspended it from a stick, and placed it in a jar. It rode out distant echoes of Hurricane Sandy inside my house, inside its chrysalis. I watch daily for signs of failure, they may yet come, its journey late begun, then disrupted, now still.
This one is a Longshot, the name stuck. I am hoping for the best.
Shouldn't...but Do 