I rushed out this morning to check on them, still in my pajamas.
This one was the closest to the back door; he's the one that was not quite as far along in the emergence:
He looks a little damp and weather-beaten, but intact.
Unfortunately, the other one didn't fare as well:
His attachment to the siding was all that remained intact - so I started to hunt for the rest of his chrysalis.
I found this after a little searching, a few feet away from the attachment.
Then I found a piece of wing and some more chrysalis
A few more feet away, I found the rest of the butterfly.
I flipped it over to take another photo.
So, I'm already sad, but then I arrive at the bead shop, and as I'm taking Bailey for his first walk of the day, I find this, a few doors down from my shop:
Someone stepped on my grasshopper nymph.
Now I'm going to be sad all day.
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3 comments:
Oh No. A sad day, indeed.
I have had the same reaction when a butterfly has emerged deformed. I had never thought I would be sad about the death of an insect. ( I never feel sad when slapping a mosquito!)
Mosquitoes = blood sucking, disease-causing parasites!
My poor little grasshopper nymph was a harmless, cheery, bright green baby who adopted my bead store, for some reason, and he was my little good luck charm. Not hurting anybody. Boo on bug stompers!
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