The Happy and the Sad story of a Caterpillar
The Happy Story of a Caterpillar
A caterpillar hatched from a tiny egg, it was so hungry that right away it started to look for food. It ate through different kinds of food, fruits and leaves. It grew longer and fuller until one day it can eat no more and started to change into a chrysalis.
The chrysalis kept still for a while, then it started to move. Slowly, something emerged, a colorful and beautiful butterfly.
Images and synopsis, “The Very Hungry caterpillar” book by Eric Carle.
You can watch a complete metamorphosis “Egg to Monarch Butterfly” from Naturenorth with this page URL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r3J1SZK06mE&t=38s
The Sad Story of a Caterpillar
A caterpillar hatched from a tiny egg, it was so hungry that right away it started to look for food. It was fed and fed the only food it prefers to eat, the mulberry leaves. It grew longer and fuller until one day it can eat no more and started to weave a cocoon around itself.
Silkworm Image by ivabalk from Pixabay
The silkworm Bombyx Mori would have looked like this if it could come out from the cocoon:
Image by P.gibellini, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
But a silkworm’s cocoon is made up of a single thread from the caterpillar’s saliva. Many people want to get this long thread unbroken and pure to make silk cloths.
Image by Frank Winkler from Pixabay
If the caterpillar turning into a moth can emerge, the cocoon will be ruined. To prevent this, cocoons are baked, steamed, or boiled in water. The pupae inside die.
The Sad Story of a Caterpillar is a true story. Sericulture is the process by which the natural fiber of silk is procured. Silkworm, specifically the “Bombyx Mori”, are raised in order for their caterpillars to spin the cocoon which is made up of filament or silk thread that are harvested to make silk cloth. For thousand of years, these moths have provided human this natural fiber in exchange for their being. They are now blind, cannot fly, have lost their color pigment and are only allowed to mature to give birth. Silk is beautiful, but where they come from is the complete opposite. There are other kinds of silk, but only the silk that come from plants, can make me happy.
Little Guardian Butterflies:
My Butterfly Story
Many years ago while taking a nature drive, I passed by a once famous drive-in cinema which had been abandoned for many years. Curious as to how it might have looked, I drove through the thin forest that covered it. In my head, it could not be so far away and the bushy path would clear up soon as the old theater reveals itself. Enjoying the tranquility of nature, I went inner and farther until I realized that I was looking for something non-existent anymore so I decided to retreat but could not find a clearing.
Getting panicky, I sped-up to find a wider area where I could do a one-eighty when my car stopped moving to a descending terrain. Protruding rocks on the ground had caught the tires and stuck with no phone signal, I could only walk back to where I came from.
I got out of the vehicle and tread back assuring myself that I never made a turn so it could only be a straight direction backward. Dreading somebody or something might be following me made me ran on times.
Was I right for two yellow butterflies took my attention and led me to look down, there I saw a band of tiny bluish butterflies fluttering on the left side of my trail, some around my feet. I burst into giggles finding companions from an unbelievable sight. Instantly they solicited a sense of composure and the distress I had earlier just vanished. It felt that their gentle teeny flitting was a gesture saying “don’t be scared, we’re here, just follow”. I thought it was surreal and enjoyed every moment of that walk that finding myself in front of the street where I came from was a disappointment. I looked down again to check them but they were gone.
You might be wondering what happened next. On the side of the road where the butterflies left me, a returning tourist bus with only the driver and a tour guide in it approached and kindly allowed me to hitchhike. Calling a friend who owned a car repair shop was the first thing I did when I could finally use my phone again. We went back in his pick-up after heeding my plea for help and towed the car back to his shop. He checked the underside and found no damage at all to the car.
I never saw such kind of butterflies again. Could the winged creatures be little guardian angels? Perhaps, in the form of butterflies they came to help. Were they figments of my imagination? I’m sure they were real!