The Most Amazing Thing

THE other day we noticed a green caterpillar on one of the tomato plants. Having plucked it off ready to deposit elsewhere, we realised that the tomato plant was nearly dead anyway so the caterpillar might as well enjoy the last few leaves. So we put it back. Imagine our surprise when the next day we found it tucked cosily in a cocoon! In fact there were two of them! Two days later the plant was indeed dead, as was apparently the second pupa. But the first pupa still wiggled when gently prodded, and one part had turned brown inside its opaque, silky home.

On my return from a trip four days later, Emma greeted me with: "Mama! The most amazing thing happened!" It seemed that the pupa had transformed into a moth, which Emma had discovered drying its wings next to the empty cocoon. It had flown away by the time I got home, so we didn't get to photograph or identify the moth or butterfly, but it could have been a diamondback moth.

Pupa, Chrysalis or Cocoon?
A pupa is an insect undergoing transformation. If it is a butterfly pupa, it is called a chrysalis and is surrounded by a hard casing. Moth pupas most often change inside a cocoon of spun silk, though some species burrow into the ground. Pupas of other insects change inside the exoskeleton of their final larval stage, or in a nest or shell.

Creek Life

YOU'D think with four children under six, a mad labrador and an excitable Jamaican in our camping party, the wildlife would stay very, very far away. And indeed many of the wiser creatures did, a few cawing a retreat or leaving a tiny footprint behind. But not all. Whether oblivious, confined or simply unperturbed, some animals of the water allowed themselves to be discovered.

Armed with new birthday catching nets and bug boxes we went to explore the creek. It was bursting with animal life! Diving beetles tootled leisurely through the water as pond skaters gathered in little groups around the edges. Tiny fish came into sight when we stayed very still then flitted away the second a small foot disturbed the silt. A 10cm long stick insect brushed my nose as I ducked under an overhanging branch. Two crawfish were enjoying a little sunlight in a shallow, sandy spot and dragonflies flew abundantly overhead.

But it was one particular insect that caught my attention. Under almost every stone we found the same clear-coloured crawling creature with a split tail from a few millimetres to 2cm or so, including a couple of larger outgrown skins outside the water. I think they were mayfly nymphs. Mayflies live up to a year under water in the larval stage, then crawl out of the water and in their last stages of moulting, emerge with wings. They then fly around for one day only, during which time they mate and lay eggs on the water's surface, where they sink to the bottom to repeat the cycle. Whatever they were, they made interesting creatures to watch.

It's a Record!

WHILE walking home from school one day, we noticed a proliferation of one type of insect on the grass under a particular maple tree. Looking somewhat like a firefly, we took note of its markings and looked it up at home. It was a box elder bug, a true bug which feeds predominantly on box elder trees and also maples.

We've since seen this bug many times, always under maples. They are not especially fast moving, which makes them attractive to Alexander. Every time we see them he tries to outmatch his own record of how many he can hold in his hand at any one time without any flying away or being squashed. I try to share his joy while secretly encouraging escape.

Despite the occasional mishaps, the bug does now have the honour of having renamed this route home from school. It is now called "Box Elder Way".

Birthday Butterflies

LOOKING back through old posts, I'm reminded that Emma received a "bug hotel" for her third birthday. Now rather the worse for three years of weather, it has nevertheless provided much interest to us and a home for many insects.

I'm not sure if it's coincidence that one of Alexander's favourite presents on his third birthday was a butterfly net and bug collection box! He has spent hours outside trying to - often successfully - catch various insects, which he then stores in his special jar with a magnifying lid. Happy birthday little bug catcher!

The Next Plague?

LAST year we noticed a great number of insects we hadn't seen before in the park. Little green/brown bugs, they looked a little like ladybirds but had a distinct triangular shape, the head much narrower than the tail end. They congregated in great numbers on the kudzu, were easy to pick up, flew away just as easily and didn't smell too good when squashed (accidently). It was Megacopta cribraria, otherwise known as the "kudzu beetle".

Alexander was delighted to discover them today in our garden too, on wisteria, which prompted me to research them. This little bug was first seen in the US, or in the Western hemisphere at all, in October 2009. It was discovered right here in nine counties in north Georgia and in a year had spread to over 60 counties. Now Megacopta is also a resident of North Carolina and South Carolina. The rapid spread is particularly worrisome to agriculture, since the bugs are voracious eaters not only of kudzu (which grows equally fast and does not seem to be unduly damaged by the pest) but other legumes too - especially soy beans.

Soy being, in my opinion, one of the most heinous of all crops in terms of contribution to the proliferation of cheap processed "foods", I had a fleeting thought that this little beetle army might be on a divine mission to save us from ourselves...

Preserving Herbs

IT'S funny what things we take for granted that children know. A few weeks ago Emma and Alexander helped me harvest mint, rosemary, oregano, thyme, basil and Thai basil in our garden then bundle them and hang them up to dry. Today we were preparing old glass shop-bought herb jars to store them when Emma suddenly looked at me with a mixture of astonishment and revelation: "Mama, you mean herbs in the garden are the same thing as herbs in jars?"

Black Walnut Adventures

I was recently introduced to the Eastern Black Walnut tree juglans nigra through its fruit, which hung heavy and green, like smooth golf balls. Parts of last year's crop that the squirrels had spared lay dried in the grass, but the fresh new fruit smelled fresh, almost citrusy. Evan, the tree owner, advised that the nuts are very difficult to open. He may as well have thrown down a glove.

Back home the children and I tried to crack it. The husk came off relatively easy with a knife. Immediately the flesh began to oxidise and turn brown. After rendering inoperable a heavy-duty and formerly rather nice nutcracker, we conceded that black walnuts are, in fact, rather hard to open. We also noticed that my hands were turning various shades of yellow to dark brown and black, as was the counter top, and ... it didn't come off. Emma wondered if this is why it's called black walnut. We took the stubborn nut outside and pretended we were hunter-gatherers, smashing our dinner open with a rock. Success! Tasty, but hard-earned. No wonder they are so expensive to buy.

Having already discovered the dyeing properties, we then decided to dye something for real. Using a piece of white cotton fabric, the result was an earthy dark brown. Not a colour en vogue this year, but it would be perfect for camo gear. Thank you Evan for inspiring an afternoon of fun and discovery!