Yesterday, right on schedule, the beautiful green chrysalis trimmed with gold began to darken and I knew that was the sign of an end and a beginning. I wasn’t sure how quickly this monarch would eclose, spread his or her wings and be off, but several experienced people said, watch, because it can happen so fast you will miss it. So, I went to yoga but otherwise stayed home and watched. And watched. And watched. The neighbors came and watched. The high school student from next door came and watched. Then they all went home to dinner. I went and sought the advice of Bev at Burning Silo. But things only progressed so far, shell split, legs emerging and then: he seemed stuck. I watched some more. I had lots of time to reflect on long unproductive labors, ending in c-sections and then I decided I was getting a little too close to this process and I was also getting hungry.
Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through. (Anais Nin)
The day was getting late- late for a new monarch to dry his wings and get about his business before night fall. I moved the plant outside to the table, wished him well and went in feeling that the prognosis wasn’t good. Early this morning I looked and he appeared unchanged- legs extended and holding on but no evidence that he would drop down and out and do the work to inflate those wings. I barely touched him with end of a pencil and he jumped. I spoke to him with my best Arnold Schwartzenegger accent and said, “Ve vill pump you up!” and I went inside to get a small plant mister. I decided better of that and sat down on the floor with a big box of alpaca and llama wool that arrived in the mail. That distracted me for about an hour and a half while I considered a few felting projects (just the crafty thing for a warm Florida day, yes?).
When I went back out a few minutes ago, he was gone and only the empty transparent and temporary shelter remained. I spotted her over on a nearby honeysuckle, slowly opening and closing her beautiful wings. By the time I got the battery back in my camera and raced out she was heading over the fence and I only got one quick picture. I’ll post that tomorrow.
There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.(Anais Nin)