The Snazzerpillar Part II: In Which I Am Revealed to Be an Awful Human

If you tuned in last post, you saw I was besotted with a Camouflaged Looper, the larva of a Wavy-lined Emerald moth. After observing its changes of adornment until it snuggled into its leaf-adorned cocoon, I safely ensconced it in a white mesh cube designed to house Monarch caterpillars in hopes that I could get some photos of the handsome green moth it would become.

So I waited. Every time I passed through the room I would veer over to peer at the cocoon, looking for changes. I had high hopes of getting some pics of it emerging from the cocoon, perhaps sitting quietly as its wings expanded and dried out in a similar display to that of newly-eclosed Monarchs. Once it posed nicely for photos, I would gently release it back into the garden.

There is very little information to be found about the Wavy-lined Emerald life cycle; most information focuses on the flamboyant caterpillars with only a brief mention and photo of the adult moth. One website mentioned it took about seven days from the moth to emerge. A week passed, with no change to the cocoon. Monarchs normally emerge from their chrysalis after 10-14 days, so I waited another week. Still no change.

Alas, I thought. The conditions in the house must not have been appropriate to the pupating of my little caterpillar. I decided to kidnap a Monarch caterpillar from the garden and see if I could rear it in the little box as a kind of penance. After plopping it on the bottom of the container with some milkweed leaves, I left it alone overnight.

The next morning, checking on the chubby Monarch cat, I noticed something down in the seam of the contained.

My heart dropped.

It was a little moth, motionless on the bottom of the mesh box. My caterpillar had emerged, unbeknownst to me (the cocoon, covered in snippets of dried leaves, never seemed to change appearance), and after who knows how long, quietly died without ever having a chance to live.

I felt awful. The worst. I killed this poor moth with my affection, this handsome little thing that I took from its habitat so I could selfishly photograph it, having never seen such a moth before. I imagined it futilely beating itself against the soft mesh wall, attempting to reach the streetlight or the moon outside the window. I don't know how long these moths normally live; if they eat as adults or not. I just know this one never had a chance.

Faced with this evidence of my disastrous caterpillar-rearing abilities, I quickly scooped up the Monarch caterpillar and put it back outside on a milkweed leaf, hopefully none the worse for my  attention.

Feeling ghoulish yet not wanting the Wavy-lined Emerald's death to be entirely in vain, I carefully took the nearly-weightless carcass outside to take some photos and laid it to rest in the garden whence it came. I will in the future limit my "appreciation" of these and other insects to a safe distance.

The Snazzy Gentleman (Lady?)

I recently mentioned that every time I go out on the Sycamore Greenway I discover a new favorite bug. After several decades on this earth, I am consistently finding new creatures that I've never encountered, not off in the distant woods or wildlife refuges but just down the street. I just had to learn to slow down and look.

And it doesn't even have to be down the street...they are right in my own suburban backyard! Out one day taking photos of bees on the Ratibida pinnata, I noticed one of the flowers had little yellow petals sticking up from the normally smoothish brown cone of its head. That's odd, I think, and move in to inspect this odd floral mutation.

And it started crawling away! It was not part of the flower but rather a tiny little brownish inchworm with pieces of bright yellow petals stuck to its back, an effective camouflage rendering it nearly invisible while it was motionless.

A particularly flamboyant dresser.

Fascinated, I did some research and quickly learned my dapper little inchworm was an (aptly-named) Camouflaged Looper (Synchlora aerata), the larval form of a tiny green moth known as the Wavy-lined Emerald. These adorable little inchworms eat a variety of flowers, and will snip tiny pieces of petals to affix to their bodies using silk. This allows them to feed on a variety of flowers and disguise themselves at each different kind (discarding old petals and adding new), rather than being limited to the specific host plant with which one's naked body blends in. When it is ready to pupate, it will trade its colorful floral coat for one made up of foliage, and affix itself to a stem where it will remain until it emerges in all its mothy splendor.

Right after being moved from Ratibida pinnata to ironweed.

Once I discovered the first camouflaged looper, I soon noticed several others, both in my garden and on the Greenway. Curious to see its fashion sense in action, I kidnapped one and brought it to a flower pot on my deck filled with orange nasturtiums. I also plucked a variety of different-colored flowers from the garden and stuck them in the pot as well (the camouflaged looper normally likes composite flowers so I was sure to grab several of those). I placed the yellow-petaled worm on a rich purple cluster of ironweed flowers and let it do its thing.

A couple hours later, the worm (as it was now affectionately known) had indeed placed a smattering of purple petals among its original yellow clothing. For the next couple of days, every time I came home I would go inspect the worm to see what it was up to, spending many minutes in the blazing sun on my deck searching to the clever little guy and hoping he hadn't fallen to the ground or been plucked up by a hungry sparrow. 

Beginning to change its wardrobe.

Too quickly--after barely two outfit changes--the worm covered itself in dried brown nasturtium leaves and hunkered down on a stem a few inches below the flowers. I couldn't see its little body underneath all the snippets of leaves, hard as I tried to spot the shape of a cocoon.

On to the leafy outfit!

I have never seen a Wavy-lined Emerald moth, though they must be in the area given the abundance of larvae. My worm has been safely ensconced in a white mesh cube designed to keep Monarch caterpillars, and hopefully before too long I will see my first little green moth.

So stop and watch the flowers for a few minutes this week. You never know what you will find!

Current state: pupa.