caterpillars Archives - NorthStarNature

Butterfly Wings and Cowgirl Dreams

September 10, 2017 by Denise Brake 6 Comments

I have a printed meme on my refrigerator that says, ” Your time as a caterpillar has expired. Your wings are ready.” It has a photo of a horse on it with wise-looking eyes, a star on her forehead, and alert ears. I want to wrap my arms around her neck and smell the sweet goodness that only a horse lover so deeply appreciates. The quote is referenced to Unknown; the meme was posted by Cowgirl Dreams and was passed on to me by my sister. I look at it every day.

Last weekend when we were picnicking at Big Stone Lake State Park to celebrate my Mom’s birthday, Painted Lady butterflies filled the air and lit on wildflowers of all kinds to gather nectar. When I stood still, they landed on me. Painted Lady butterflies migrate in large numbers, so this ‘gathering up’ time occurs in late August into September. They migrate to southwestern United States and northern Mexico, traveling 100 miles a day and continuing to reproduce throughout their migration.

The Painted Lady is the most widely distributed butterfly in the world. They lay their eggs on asters, thistles, burdock, and legumes. (Vanessa cardui means ‘butterfly of thistle.’) The eggs are pale green and the size of a pin head.

In 3-5 days, the tiny caterpillar hatches from the egg, constantly eats the host plant, and grows quickly. The caterpillar literally grows out of its skin four times before being fully grown (each phase between molts is called an instar.) The yellowish-green and black caterpillar makes a silk nest on the host plant to protect itself from predators.

When fully grown, in 5-10 days, the caterpillar attaches itself with a silk button to the underside of a leaf. Its skin splits open to reveal a dull, brown case and becomes a pupa or chrysalis, and metamorphosis begins.

In the 7-10 days of metamorphosis, the caterpillar breaks down and becomes liquid and re-forms into a butterfly. The chrysalis splits open, and the Painted Lady butterfly emerges with crumpled wings that take a few hours to dry and straighten out. Then she/he flies away to drink nectar and mate to begin the cycle all over again.

And what does that have to do with horses and cowgirls and all of us? Well, I think everyone wants to be a butterfly. Their bright colors attract attention, their delicate, velvety wings are marvels of flight and design, and they make even the most beautiful flowers more beautiful by their presence. But nobody gets to be a butterfly without the other steps. The tiny egg of an idea—the ‘imagineering’ of becoming a barrel racer, a nurse, or a composer—begins the process. Then comes the ingesting of information and the growth of practice—again and again and again. When maturation occurs, there is a period of stillness, a breaking down of the old to rebuild the new, the metamorphosis. Like Chris always says, “You can only get ready for so long; pretty soon you have to leave.” Your time as a caterpillar has expired. Your wings are ready. But in our all or nothing thinking, we believe we, as a whole person, are either a caterpillar or a butterfly, and if we’re not yet a butterfly, then we are somehow lacking, not good enough. I propose that we are all—at any given time—a compilation of all the stages in different areas of our lives. I am an aging tattered-winged butterfly of a Mom; I am a voracious student caterpillar in learning about trauma and attachment; I am a pupa in my spiritual life—breaking down old ideas and rebuilding new ones, and I have some tiny green eggs of ideas that I want to hatch out and grow. Cowgirl dreams…anybody dreams…dreams we can wrap our arms around. We are marvels of design, bright with the colors of creativity, and we can each make the world a more beautiful place by our presence.

A Total Eclipse of the Eclipse

August 27, 2017 by Denise Brake 2 Comments

I had high expectations of Monday’s eclipse. The media had prepared us well with scientific information, beautiful illustrations and photos of previous celestial wonders, and Amazon had plenty of viewing glasses to purchase. The Great American Eclipse was to make its way across the heart of our country in its totality. Minnesota wouldn’t see complete darkness, but an almost total eclipse is exciting, nonetheless. The sun was shining on my Monday morning walk…then the clouds rolled in. As E-time approached, thunder rolled and rumbled, and rain fell, along with my high hopes.

One of our Bluebirds of happiness flew to the Maple just outside the window, perching on the side of the tree, reminding me that blue skies would come again. (Tuesday’s sky was blue and cloudless.)

Even in the midst of my dashed eclipse expectations, there was tropical beauty right outside my door in the rain—a banana tree and the pretty pink flowers of Mandevilla.

Beyond the hype and excitement of the eclipse this week was the reality of the waning days of summer. First day of school pictures filled my Facebook feed. Cooler than normal temperatures necessitated bringing out the fleeces and sweatshirts. The tomatoes are finally ready to eat! The apples are turning red. Sumac leaves are beginning to turn crimson. Wild plums are ripening.

And our first ever hazel nuts are forming under the curved leaves and inside the fringed husks!

I never say summer is sweet on the humid, hot days (I mean, what do I expect?!), but as August winds down and Summer Sweet blooms and releases its fragrant scent, I am reminded that summer is indeed a sweet time of year.

On the other side of dashed expectations and humid-drenched disappointments is surprise and possibility. What is eating our Milkweed? Monarch caterpillars, of course. Not this time! The hungry, similar-colored caterpillars are the larval stage of the Milkweed Tiger Moth (a very drab, gray-colored moth.)

And look at this delicate web of water droplets I found in the grass below the milkweed!

At the junction of old and new soil and grass around our patio, a fungus grew that looked like a worn, well-oiled leather catcher’s mitt. Where did that come from?

Then there is the delicate surprise of a common object seen in a different light—the bird’s nest bundle of seeds of Queen Anne’s lace and a pincushion center of Black-eyed Susan.

There’s a book titled Expectation Hangover by Christine Hassler. I haven’t read it, but she defines Expectation Hangover as “the myriad of undesirable feelings or thoughts present when one or a combination of the following things occur: a desired outcome does not occur; a desired outcome does occur but does not produce the feelings or results we expected; our personal and/or professional expectations are unmet by ourselves or another; an undesired, unexpected event occurs that is in conflict with what we want or planned.” I’ve had a few of those in my lifetime and know very well the toll it takes on time, energy, and self-worth. My high hopes of experiencing the eclipse were tempered by the meteorological predictions that didn’t favor clear skies on that day. It’s important to keep our expectations grounded in reality—what’s the science behind this or what does the history of this person show us or what can we really afford? I’m not sure it’s our expectations per se that get us into trouble, but our attachment to them. Those attachments can run deep and profound to the very soul of who we think we are. But Nature teaches us that even in the certainty of summer morphing into fall, we can discover new surprises and see things in a different light—like we’ve never seen them before. Expectations and possibilities with a grounding of reality—it’s a recipe for an awe-inspiring eclipse (or not), a sweet summer, and an authentic life.

Wonder Will Be Yours

September 15, 2015 by Denise Brake 5 Comments

I remember staring with wonder at each of the tiny human beings we brought home from the hospital. I couldn’t get enough of looking into their eyes, holding their perfectly plump bodies with those tiny fingers and toes, and kissing their delightful cheeks while inhaling that ambrosial baby smell. Every good force of Nature and God was involved in bringing forth these new creations to occupy our family life for a time, and the awesomeness and privilege of that is not lost on me. Not even after all these years. Especially after all these years–when they have all gone on to living their own lives.

But still, when I see my cherished children, which is not often, I find myself staring at them, looking into their adult eyes, wanting to hold their hand or push back the hair from their forehead, and longing to kiss their cheeks. Their individual worlds are separate from ours now–the way of Nature–but the wonder is still there.

There are tiny, little worlds all around us. We catch glimpses of them from time to time and our understanding is expanded by information in books, nature films, and the encyclopedic internet. We can take a closer look at these tiny worlds at almost any time. Imagine the world of the honeybee–we see them working to gather nectar and pollen, but we don’t realize how much work goes on inside the hive. Sedum ‘Autumn Joy’ is an abundant source of nectar for honeybees at this time of year.

They share the joy with a pungent stink bug who raised his antennae in alarm when the honeybee flew near, but he determined that the bee was no threat to him. There was plenty of nectar to share.

Another little world lies hidden in a wild rosebush.

The bald-faced hornet, which is really a yellow jacket wasp, collects and chews wood, mixes the fibers with saliva to make pulp, and constructs a paper nest that houses comb-like nests of larvae and hundreds of worker bees.

Most everyone knows the life cycle of the Monarch butterfly. Milkweed is the host plant for the Monarch caterpillar that hatches from eggs deposited by the butterfly. The caterpillar eats milkweed until mature, then forms a hanging chrysalis.

When the butterfly emerges from the chrysalis, he leaves the Milkweed world and flies into the vast, diverse Unknown full of dangers and delights. One of the delights is the formidable Joe Pye Weed that grows up to seven feet tall and produces huge mauve pink flower heads full of vanilla sweet nectar.

While watching the butterflies and bees swarm the Joe Pye Weed, I noticed a hummingbird at the nearby Summer Sweet bush. This small native shrub is another important source of nectar for butterflies and hummingbirds, and its fragrant, bottle-brush flowers will bloom in shade.

What a summer show! The enticing, sweet blossoms and the birds, bees, and butterflies!

And then…Wonder! The Hummingbird flew over to the jeweled iridescence of the butterfly and hovered there!

I am grateful and privileged to witness such a moment in the late summer world of Joe Pye. These tiny-world moments play out all around us, most of the time without our knowing. Take some time to notice the tiny world of some part of Nature and share the Autumn Joy!

I am no longer part of the daily world of my children, though daily they are in my thoughts, my whispered prayers, my silent sending of blessings upon their adult lives. I want to remind them, and all of you, that looking into another person’s eyes connects two souls, shares our tiny worlds, and reflects the face of God. Touching another person’s hand conveys interest and caring and does wonders for our physiology. Kissing a cheek bestows a gift to the one kissed and the giver alike. Let every good force of Nature and God inspire your life as you go through your life cycle and know that the nectar of love and joy is abundant–there’s enough for everybody! And Wonder will be yours.

Caterpillars, Cocoons, and Butterflies

September 19, 2014 by Denise Brake Leave a Comment

I love a good picture book! And Eric Carle is one of the best authors/illustrators for Nature picture books for young children. It is important to teach children about Nature, to introduce them to the natural world, and to instill in them an appreciation for all creation. If you teach children to love Nature, they will respect and care for our Earth.

The winners of Eric Carle’s The Very Hungry Caterpillar board books are:

Maggie and Lynda–two of the most beautiful butterflies I know! You both have so much to offer to all the people around you! Maggie, your energy, humor, and goodness reach out and touch people deeply. Lynda, what wisdom and love-in-action you model to those lucky enough to be in your presence. So glad I have spent many years in the company of both of you! I will get your books to you next week!

The other butterfly–Emily–who indeed has migrated far from home–you inspire me every day with your energy, your insight, your compassion, and your love. I still have our Very Hungry Caterpillar book in a box somewhere!

Amy, you are so right that this northern climate going into fall and winter makes one want to spin a cocoon! It’s a good place to be when it’s cold and dark outside. It can be a time of rest, reflection, and rejuvenation–you of all people know the benefit of such a time. And when you spread your wings and your talent and love, we are all blessed by knowing you.

And to my fellow caterpillars, my sisters Brenda and Sam, we all find ourselves in this empty nest struggle–the end of all the years of caring for our kids on a daily basis to the beginning of the years of relating with our adult children. How do we do this?!? No manual for that either. It makes me want to eat chocolate–when I know I should be eating green leaves! And so we work on our next transformation…. Love to you both!

Eric Carle is best known for his children’s books, but when our daughter Emily was in an old bookstore in Ely, MN, she found the book Nature Thoughts–A Selection that was illustrated by Eric Carle! The copyright was 1965 and the original cover price was $1.00!

One of the quotes from this book talks about the changes in Nature–how we are given ‘some beauties’ in every season. My wish for you is to recognize the ‘beauties’ in your life, no matter the season, so you can cherish them, appreciate them, and take good care of them.

Nature gives to every time and season some beauties of its own; and from morning to night, as from the cradle to the grave, is but a succession of changes so gentle and easy that we can scarcely mark their progress.

Charles Dickens

From Hungry Caterpillar to Beautiful Butterfly

September 16, 2014 by Denise Brake 5 Comments

We lived in Missouri when the kids were little, and we had black walnut trees on our acreage. Messy as they are in autumn when the green nuts fall from the trees and turn tarry black, they are the host tree for the eggs of a magnificent moth. The kids and I found a silken wrapped cocoon among the leaves one day in late summer and brought it into the house. The cocoon resided on the end table under the brass lamp, and for months we didn’t give it much thought. One day I heard a noise–a rattling, shaking noise–coming from the cocoon! And it was moving! In a number of days, the activity inside the cocoon increased until one morning, a wet-looking, bedraggled moth emerged and crawled up the lamp to hang on the lampshade to rest and fill its wings. The wings were bright green with eyespots and long tails on the hind wings. It was a big, beautiful Luna Moth! The kids were so excited that their cocoon had ‘hatched!’ The moth flew around in the house for a few days, then laid rows of brownish eggs on the lampshade. The adult moths do not eat–they mate, lay eggs, and die within a week of emerging from the cocoon.

The whole transforming process of butterflies and moths–from eggs to hungry caterpillars to flying adults–is intriguing and inspiring. It is the iconic metaphor of changes in life–beginnings, development, growth, rest time, transformation and struggle, and the beauty of the emerging self.

I have collected a few photos of butterflies and caterpillars over the summer–others, like the Yellow Swallowtail, teased me with their frequent visits to the flowers, but I just wasn’t able to get their pictures.

The familiar Woolly Bear caterpillar, known for the folklore of predicting the severity of the upcoming winter, is also called the Hedgehog caterpillar because it curls up and ‘plays dead’ when disturbed.

The more interesting fact about this caterpillar is that it overwinters in its caterpillar form, producing a cryoprotectant or natural antifreeze in its tissues that allows it to live frozen all winter. The Woolly Bear caterpillar thaws in the spring and pupates to become the little known but beautifully named Isabella Tiger Moth.

I found a Red Admiral butterfly on a tree up in the Brainerd Lakes Area and a White Admiral right outside our front door.

A Painted Lady graced the Purple Coneflowers at the College of St. Benedict, complementing one another in their colorful beauty.

On a Milkweed plant along the road by our house, a hungry, striped, Monarch caterpillar munched on its food of choice.

At the Butterfly Garden at the College of St. Benedict, a brilliantly colored Monarch in pristine condition alighted on a milkweed flower, while nearby a tattered, pale-colored one rested on buds that were not yet open. What storms and struggles had this faded beauty been through? It must have been close to the end of its 6-week adult life. Only the adults who emerge from the chrysalis in late summer migrate en masse up to 3000 miles to warmer climates.

The transformation of caterpillar to butterfly is illustrated in Eric Carle’s classic children’s book The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

In celebration of two seasons of blogging, I am giving away new 5″ x 7″ board books of The Very Hungry Caterpillar to two readers. ‘Like’ my NorthStarNature Facebook page if you haven’t already, share this post on Facebook or with someone you know, and tell me in your comment if you feel like a caterpillar, chrysalis (cocoon), or butterfly at this time in your life! I will randomly choose two names and let you know the winners on Friday. Thanks to all of you for reading my blog!

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