The pupal stage of the Monarch is suspended a cremaster attached to a silk base.
Isn’t it amazing? Begs the question why we think we need religion and other fantasies when life is so interesting.
In a morning of ferocious heat, I counted 19 caterpillars and three pupae or chrysalises in a patch of milkweed and other plants. I’m sure there were more.
The colors of the scales on the wings are the last thing to develop.
Here’s an empty husk of a chrysalis. If you plant it, they’ll come… sometimes. Green-Wood has made some effort to put in a few patches of Common Milkweed. It’s a messy affair: devoured, shat upon, not at all the landscaping you would expect in a traditional cemetery. Our hats go off to them.
Two of the three pupae I spotted were on a human structure. That probably made them easier to see. This late instar caterpillar is heading down-stem. Did it not like this grass as a place to anchor and transform?
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ACT UP’s index on civil disobedience.
I did not know that second definition of “cremaster.” Interesting! Great series of posts.
Everything is hanging by a thread.