Transformation Before Our Eyes

The day had been a slow one for school-work. We had the timer set for every ten minutes so we'd remember to send someone to the front porch to look at the "J-Man" and see if any changes had begun. He'd been hanging there for more than 36 hours, so we knew that the time was close. By mid-afternoon I had assigned the children to 5-minute watches: we were determined to witness this miracle of change!

The monarch larva, the milkweed caterpillar, spins a little silk platform underneath a leaf and then attaches itself to it by the rear end. There it hangs, taking the shape of a letter J (sometimes curling tighter into a U) for more than 24 hours before pupating.

By 4pm we could see definite changes in the caterpillar's shape, texture and colour. He was no longer the brilliant white, yellow, and black, but had taken on a greyer tinge, his yellow getting duller with a hint more green in it, and the white also duller than before. His little body seemed to be swelling, straining at the sections of its exoskeleton as he began to wriggle more. It appeared that he was uncomfortable. Not only that, but he had taken on a much straighter, stiffer posture.

For over an hour we watched as the caterpillar hung there, gradual changes continuing, but no real progress. We sat on the floor, on stools, on laps, wherever we could get a good view of the interior of the butterfly cage. We sat and watched. We waited. We exclaimed.

As my Dear Man drove in the driveway from picking up some groceries for supper, the action started, and we knew that God had saved this sight for him to share with us!

Before our eyes there appeared a tiny slit of green at the bend in the J, like a minuscule incision through the caterpillar's skin. As the skin gradually separated in a perfect straight line, more of the hidden body underneath pushed its way through. The soft, moist, lumpy green mass squeezed its way through the little opening, forcing it wider and longer.


Then the caterpillar began to wriggle and writhe. He was trying to press the exoskeleton upwards to release the new from that was underneath. We could see darkening at the base where he hung from the leaf as the skin accordioned, while more and more of the pale green was exposed at the head.





The wriggling and straining continued for almost an hour. Near the end of that time, the exoskeleton was completely compressed at the top of the soft, moist chrysalis and he began to swing and twist to push it off and away. It fell into a tidy pile on the floor of the cage, useless now, but once an essential part of his existence.



Freed from the constraints of the old skin, the little fellow continued to swing and bend. We imagined it was from the discomfort as the new exoskeleton, the chrysalis, began to shrink and harden around him. It was so flexible still, and yet we knew that in less than an hour it would be the same solid jade-green jewel we had admired in our other specimens.