Teaching a child not to step on a caterpillar
is as valuable to the child
as it is to the caterpillar.
-Bradley Miller
There’s this lovely specimen;
note the weird black-and-white spotted zebra markings on its skin….
Very similar to this one that Cass recently found scuttling across the driveway,
but its skin is lime green…
This one demure in pinstripes.
They’re all over the place, once you start looking for them.
I have no idea whether these guys will turn into moths or butterflies. My insect books are surprisingly mum on caterpillars.
Cassie loves the caterpillars, laughs heartily away at how quickly they slide away from her as she runs alongside, careful not to crunch them underfoot. She giggles breathlessly at their punk-rock hair.
She wanted to keep them, take them inside, but since I can’t identify these I can’t be sure what they feed on.
She understood quite readily that the caterpillars wanted to remain in their outside home, nodding smartly when I explained it to her. “Their mommy and daddy take care of them best,” she informed me. Yes, exactly so, my caterpillar girl.
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