Hello! If you’ve found my blog, thank you so much for checking it out!
I’m working on getting it up and running, learning to use WordPress and YouTube etc, and organising the 1,000s of butterfly and caterpillar photos and videos that I’ve taken over the past year or so (I want to post the best ones!).
When I’ve finished, there will be lots of photos, videos, and posts for you to view and enjoy, as we learn about the fascinating world of the Monarch butterfly together.
Welcome to Caterpillar Diaries! The fact that you’ve made it here is something akin to a miracle, as this website is unlikely to show up in a Google search.
This is because the Word Press theme I chose when I created this website is not “responsive” – that is, it doesn’t adapt to the different devices people use to view websites (eg, phones and tablets vs a desktop computer) and the layout goes a bit strange! Google, in its wisdom, has decreed that sites that are not “responsive” when viewed on mobile devices will not appear in searches on such devices.
And so we must search for a new theme. I’ve put this off (because there are 100s of 1,000s of themes and it’s a bit of a daunting task), but it’s time I took a deep breath and got back into it.
Not only will I change the theme/layout of the site, but I will update the site to give you the information and visual experience you are looking for.
I’m not ready to give myself a deadline yet, but it will be soon (ish)! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy what’s there (and forgive me for any weird layout things and random text in Latin)!
I wanted this blog to be only a happy place. Who wouldn’t be happy surrounded by butterflies? But today, I’m feeling down.
This butterfly season (summer of 2014/15) ended in disaster. I don’t think that’s too strong a word for it.
For one thing, every single caterpillar I had since late January has died. Only about a third of them made it to the chrysalis stage. Of these, most never emerged – the chrysalis just gone darker and darker (the wrong colour – not the pretty black that we expect, but a dirty black in streaks around the inside of the chrysalis) and then shriveled or fell off its perch. The one or two butterflies that did emerge were deformed and unable to fly.
It’s clear that they had a disease known, for short, as OE. (It’s full name is Ophryocystis elektroscirrha, and it is actually a protozoan parasite, rather than a virus or bacterium.) It is common in Monarch butterflies, but this is the first time I have had it wipe out all my caterpillars.
The other thing is that almost all of my swan plants have died. I never managed to get on top of the infestation of oleander aphids, and the plants started getting sick. I don’t know whether the aphids gave the plants a disease or just weakened them to the point they could not resist disease. However, out of 60 plants, I have only about 3 healthy plants (another 3 or 4 might survive, but it’s not looking hopeful).
So, I’m feeling a bit despondent. I pretty much need to start from scratch.
Perhaps once it gets closer to the new butterfly season, my spirits will be lifted to start again.
This summer, like many butterfly enthusiasts around the country, I’ve totally missed what l call the first wave of caterpillars and butterflies. From mid-November to the end of December, I spotted only two or three Monarchs flitting about our garden in search of nectar or swan plants to lay eggs on. Our visitors found our various dahlias, but my swan plants were safely hidden away in the butterfly garden, doors closed, as they were in poor shape and not ready for caterpillars.
After my first season of caterpillars, I nurtured my swan plants back to health – squashing and even spraying (with organic pesticide, once there was no chance of butterflies reappearing) the Oleander aphids that had infested them, re-potting them, and adding nutrients to their soil. Last year, however, l was less diligent. My surviving swan plants spent the winter (of 2014) with a mild infestation of aphids, my irregular squashing and spraying attempt insufficient to eliminate them completely.
So I kept them in the enclosure, away from prowling butterflies. But few butterflies came, and they seemed to have no interest in my plants. They even ignored the six new little plants I bought in December and stashed in the open greenhouse.
It wasn’t until yesterday, when I cleaned out the butterfly garden and started re-potting my plants, squashing aphids as I went, that the butterflies appeared. I saw two or three different females (as many as I’d seen in total this season), and they wasted no time laying eggs on the plants, old and new. It was a beautiful sunny day, with the promise of more summery weather to come, and seeing the butterflies back in the garden made it more special.
Welcome, Monarchs. I’ll try to make my garden a better place for you.
[I’m working on a video of my butterfly area clean-up to post here.]
Here is a little video I’ve put together of butterflies coming out of their chrysalises. The technical name for this is eclosing. The casing of the chrysalis that the butterfly breaks out of is actually its skin. Just as it sheds its skin when it is a caterpillar, and when it forms its chrysalis, it breaks out of its skin again to become a beautiful butterfly.
The other day, I admired how lush (beautifully green) my butterfly garden had become. My tall swan plants were all getting quite bushy, some with clusters of delicate white and purple flowers. So I arranged the plants (they are all in pots) and tidied everything, topped up the potting mix, swept up, and watered all the plants. It looked amazing. For a whole day!
Now, suddenly, I have a caterpillar population explosion! Again. This is the third time this summer I have found myself with more caterpillars than I can count. (It is probably the last time, as there are usually three generations of butterflies in a season.)
This is what happened. The other day, I had three or four enormous caterpillars. I admired them, photographed them, chatted to them about how fat they were. As well as those ones, there seemed to be about 20 medium-sized caterpillars, a bunch of little ones, and eggs here and there under leaves and so on. In the space of a few days, my enormous caterpillars gobbled a last meal and found places to pupate (turn into a chrysalis), while the medium-sized ones became fat, and all the little ones got bigger too. Now they’re all more noticeable and easy to see on the plants. And it seems as though they appeared from nowhere!
The other reason they’re more noticeable now is because they have stripped the leaves off several of the smaller plants, so there’s nowhere for them to hide. And they are noticing each other. They seem to eat even faster when there are a lot of them together, probably in case the leaf they’re eating is their last meal!
After my plants were almost destroyed, I started to rotate them (they were eaten so quickly, most of them never made it out of their pots – the ones I planted out, I dug up again to save them from the hungry hordes). Rotating the plants involved letting the caterpillars have free rein on about half of the plants and keeping the others aside. This method generally worked OK, although, sadly, I did lose some caterpillars to hunger (I couldn’t find any more swan plants and the caterpillars wandered off in search of food and did not return).
I found out late in the season (March 2013) that caterpillars over a certain size (2cm long) can eat slices of raw pumpkin when swan plant leaves are in short supply. So my last few caterpillars ended up inside the house, with a diet of pumpkin and cut leaves, alongside several chrysalises that I’d rescued or simply moved in the hope of seeing the butterflies emerge.
I ended the season with 15 stalks that had once been swan plants (and they did not all recover), caterpillar poo on my desk, and empty chrysalises on my wall. Also, I had spent hours managing caterpillar feed, counting and hunting for lost caterpillars, nurturing plants, and staring through the viewfinder of my camera waiting for something to happen.
But I had laughed at caterpillars munching ferociously, jostling with each other as they fought over a leaf, and wriggling quickly across the hot concrete path. I had been transfixed watching butterflies emerge from their chrysalises, dry and test their wings, and take their first flight. And, to top it all, I had taken some pretty cool photographs.
So, instead of being put off, I was hooked. This season (2013/14), I upped the ante. I raised some swan plants from seed, so I wouldn’t run out of plants, and enclosed an area of our courtyard with windbreak mesh, to provide protection for my swan plants and the caterpillars and butterflies alike.
It’s not 100% finished yet, but my vision is of a garden filled with nectar flowers, lush green swan plants, and, of course, fluttering butterflies…. Wish me luck!
People often ask me why I am so obsessed with Monarch butterflies and caterpillars (their eyes tell me they think I’m bonkers). What got me started on all this? How did I become ‘The Crazy Butterfly Woman’?
My family and I moved to the Kapiti Coast of New Zealand late 2012, and I soon noticed the prevalence of Monarch butterflies here. Where we lived previously, we got very few. Here, I could sit on the deck and watch the Monarchs fluttering around the flower garden, looking for tasty nectar. They added beauty and delight to the garden, and I was struck by how big the butterflies were!
Before long, I was off to the local garden centre to get a couple of swan plants to encourage the butterflies. I had a vision at that time of my little plants growing into large bushes, visited by butterflies, and with cute stripy caterpillars and green and gold chrysalises hidden amongst the mass of leaves. Hmm… I soon learnt how naive I was!
The vision seemed feasible in the beginning – I had two lovely medium-sized caterpillars that seemed to appear from nowhere, but must have already been on the plants when I bought them and grown without my noticing. One of them formed its chrysalis on a nearby shrub (I never found the other one). In the time it took for that first butterfly to develop and emerge, the eggs that visiting butterflies had laid on the plants hatched, my two little plants were overrun with caterpillars, and I had bought four more plants, then another five. My dreams of a butterfly garden with bushy, green swan plants were dashed, and I had to rethink.