Polyphemus' First Flight

"There she is! There she is!" one of the second graders called out in her loudest voice. Immediately, every second grader was running toward me as I approached the playground, carrying the butterfly pavillion with the fully developed moth inside. Their teacher had told them I was coming in during their recess time (10 am), and that we would let the moth go at that time.

An hour earlier, I had noticed the moth trembling all over. I couldn't explain it except to wonder if it was just sensing the air, the strange noises, or was it a sign of restlessness and the need to fly. Or maybe even a greater, reproductive need?

She trembled once more as the kids admired her, before I unzipped the top of the pavillion to bring her out. First I had answered their questions. They wanted to hear how she could possibly have fit into the cocoon, how did she get out, did I watch her come out, and will she have babies?

I answered them all, including telling them that she needed to fly as soon as possible, to find a safe place to hide, and to find a mate. Then she would find a special tree on which to lay her eggs, and then she would die. They didn't like hearing that part.

I wanted them to learn her name: Polyphemus. I asked them to say it. Their first attempts were hilarious. One kid thought I said Jalapenos! I heard Mollypeemus... Pollapeemus... Pollypenus... yeah, the teacher and I had a chuckle or two over their attempts.

The kids all seemed to understand that this was a joyous occasion, and when she flew up to the tree, they all started clapping with no prompting. Totally spontaneous applause, an appreciation of beauty and the miracle of life, represented in the first flight of the Polyphemus moth.

Once she flew out of eyesight, the kids happily went on to the business of playing in the playground. I knew some of them would be looking for another fat green caterpillar to put into my butterfly pavilion. In fact, several kids have already brought me the tent caterpillars they've been finding all over the school grounds, and now there is a fully cocooned tent caterpillar at the top of my pavillion.

Later, my moth expert, who happens to live less than 40 miles away in Hillsborough, emailed me and said she usually lets her moths go in the evening, when there is less chance of the moth getting caught by a predator, like a bird.

I hadn't even thought about that! What if, while witnessing this wonderful event, a bird had swooped out of nowhere, and grabbed our moth right out of the air, flying away to share its find with its hungry chicks? That would not have been a pleasant turn of events, to say the least, although it would have lent itself to a discussion of the local food chain.

I'm glad we didn't wait 6 months while our caterpillar transformed into a beautiful moth, only to watch her get eaten up in an instant. Yet, those are the facts of life. Yes, those are indeed the facts of life.

In the 6th photo you can see the two girls who had found the fat green caterpillar back in October. They had a special reason to be happy: what they had thought was just a big, fat, green worm six months ago had changed into something beautiful that could fly.

I'm hoping that in the next month or two, one of those wide-eyed children will find another caterpillar. Or two or three!