Iggy and I often revel in the magic of a garden – the feijoa seedlings planted seven years ago now offering an abundant supply of fruit, the satisfaction of picking lettuce leaves and having a crunchy and flavoursome salad on the lunch table within minutes, the extravagant supply of lemons from a tree that never stops fruiting. In the past few weeks, with three year-old Ana here from the USA to share the excitement, our monarch butterflies went through their life cycle right in front of us.
A cluster of caterpillars.
A caterpillar formed its cocoon as Sarah and Ana watched. (Photo by Sarah.)
Only five of our multitude of caterpillars made it to chrysalis stage. We are told the wasps devour the caterpillars when they are at their fattest. There must be some pretty bloated wasps around here! We noticed the chrysalises were formed under the fence railing and within the thorny rose bush, rather than in the stripped swan plant. A survival strategy, perhaps. I love the chrysalis’s delicate gold jewellery. (Photo by Sarah.)