A
week went by when I didn’t have a chance to check on the monarch caterpillars
near the Cable Natural History Museum’s front door. So after I’d waved goodbye
to the last fly-tying, canoe-paddling, snack-eating boy, I deserted the pile of
dirty camping dishes in the sink, and rushed out to check on my caterpillar
crew.
The
milkweed looked like it had seen better days. Many leaves were completely
missing, while others were chewed down to a yellowing stub. While the evidence
of their voracious eating was all around, a quick glance revealed no
caterpillars. So I searched harder and harder; checking under each leaf,
peering under the pendulous flowers, until I satisfied myself that the
caterpillars were nowhere to be found.
A
little research confirmed what I suspected. Once a monarch caterpillar has
reached its final instar and stops eating, it enters a wandering stage and
travels some distance from its host plant to find a safer, less visible place
to pupate. Somewhere in the sweetfern thicket on our hill, hang four delicate,
pale green chrysalids. (Side note: If you’re wondering about my spelling, both
chrysalis and chrysalid are correct terms for the pupa, and chrysalid is easier
to make plural.)
Since
I had hoped to have a front row seat during the caterpillars’ transformation
into adults, I was more than a little disappointed. The blinking orange light
of my voice mail inbox soon changed that.
Bob
Olson, one of my readers, just had to tell me about his granddaughter, Eve
Depew. This bright-eyed seven-year-old is raising over 50 monarch butterflies
on her back deck in Hayward, WI. She (with the help of her supportive parents)
plans to save the monarchs from extinction.
As I
chatted with Eve and her mother, Brianne, near the wood and netting butterfly
nursery that Eve’s dad built, we kept one eye on the action. A neat line of
chrysalids dangled from the sunny side of the frame, interspersed with crumpled,
empty shells and their orange-winged owners. (It was too cold to release the seven
new butterflies today.)
Hanging
in one corner, a brightly striped caterpillar stuck out like a sore thumb. He’s
in the J” spouted Eve, “I hope he changes soon!” Looking closer, she noted how
the white stripes were looking greenish, and amended her exclamation, “I think
he’s almost ready!”
While
this caterpillar still looked more like a larva than a butterfly, some
important changes had already taken place. During the wandering stage (when Eve
must rescue wayward caterpillars off the deck furniture), veins develop that
will supply his wings with fluid. As the caterpillar pupates, each wing is
shaped and ready for adulthood.
During
a pause in the conversation, we looked over to see that the caterpillar’s J was
relaxing. “He’s ready!” announced Eve, swinging her blonde braids over her
shoulder.
Sure
enough, the skin near the back of his head had begun to split, and a small
triangle of green showed through. Almost imperceptibly, this triangle grew as
his exoskeleton sloughed off and crumpled into a wad near the silk button that
attached it to the wood. It is easy to think of a caterpillar spinning a
chrysalid around itself, but the delicate green shell is actually the body the
caterpillar reveals during its last molt.
I
stuck my nose up to the screen for a front row seat, while mother and daughter
giggled together, narrating the action and imitating the energetic wiggling and
twisting that the caterpillar must do in order to kick off the last of its old
clothes without falling. This is no easy feat, as the monarch must pull a
small, stick-like cremaster out of its exoskeleton and poke it into the silk
button to secure its attachment for the long haul. This is a risky time for the
monarch, and Eve told me sadly of one pupa that failed this step, its life
ending in a pile of mush on the ground.
The
newly-formed pupa looked lopsided to me, and upside down. Eve assured me that
this was normal. In a few hours, the chrysalid’s exoskeleton would shape up and
harden off.
Throughout
my stay, both mother and daughter impressed me with their detailed knowledge of
the life cycle. Only when I asked about the mysterious changes that happen
inside the chrysalid did Eve furrow her brow and say “I just don’t know.”
Scientists are only just beginning to figure out the details themselves.
While
the pupa is certainly soft and vulnerable as it forms, it isn’t quite the soup
of cells that some people imagine. At no time do all the body parts break down,
although the chewing, crawling muscles of the caterpillars are reduced to
liquid and reformed into the flight muscles of a butterfly. During the final
caterpillar instar, clusters of cells called imaginal disks started to grow
rapidly. Besides the wings, they have already formed a beating heart, a
respiratory system, antennae, legs, and a proboscis. Those parts and others just
need more time to develop fully, and old caterpillar parts need to be digested
and reabsorbed.
As I
sat transfixed by the show, Eve told me how she gathers fresh milkweed
(complete hitchhiking eggs and caterpillars) from a neighbor’s field every day,
and cleans the copious caterpillar poop out of the enclosure. “She spends hours
out here,” her mother said with a proud smile. “I think she’s going to grow up
to be a scientist.” In my opinion, this little caterpillar is already well on
her way.
For over 45 years, the Cable Natural
History Museum has served to connect you to the Northwoods. Come visit us in
Cable, WI! Our new exhibit: “Lake Alive!” opened May 1, 2015, and will remain
open until March 2016.
Find us on the web at
www.cablemuseum.org to learn more about our exhibits and programs. Discover us
on Facebook, or at our blogspot, http://cablemuseumnaturalconnections.blogspot.com.
As
the developing monarch butterfly gets close to completion, the exoskeleton of
the chrysalid becomes transparent and brightly colored wings show through. Photo by Emily Stone.
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