Nine days after taking the pictures of the Cecropia moth and her eggs in my last post, I had the time to photograph them again. By then, the last of the eggs had just hatched. From a distance the caterpillars looked cute and fuzzy, but up close they seemed formidable enough to make just about any predator back away! 

This one has just chewed it’s way out of the egg. If you compare it to one of the later images, you may notice the pedicles that it’s sharp little guard hairs grow out of are a lighter yellow or orange color just after they hatch. They soon turn as dark as the rest of their skin.

The "hair" you can see on some of the eggs came from the female as she glued them in place. The glue gives the eggs the pinkish color -- and the darker orange spots where the glue pooled as it dried.

The picture above is uncropped, taken at 5x magnification. To give you an idea of the caterpillar's actual size, if the image to the left is just under one inch (24mm) tall on your monitor, you’re seeing how tiny they really were!

The eggs in these two images were laid on the glass of the terrarium. I propped up a white sheet of paper a few inches behind the glass to lighten the background. The caterpillars spent several minutes on the eggs after they hatched. I don’t know if they were chewing away at more of the eggshell, or just letting their guard hairs stiffen up. Either way, they were soon off looking for a nice tender leaf to start munching on.

To begin with, it was fairly easy to keep them stocked with a fresh supply of leafy lilac twigs in florists’ vials. Within a month, however, that had changed to a daily task!

The caterpillars in today’s post are all in the first instar stage. By nine days after I had taken these pictures, several of them had molted for the first time, growing bigger and more colorful.

You'll see for yourself in my next post!

One of the nice rewards of being a nature photographer is all the great nature related photo opportunities people tell me about. This post, the first in a series, follows the life cycle of the Cecropia moth (Hyalophora cecropia) from egg to cocoon, and is the fruit of one such call.  

One of my brothers found a Cecropia cocoon and brought it home so his family could watch the moth emerge. They released it on their deck once it was ready to fly, but it liked the spot and stayed there, immediately going about attracting a mate. The females attract males by releasing pheromones, so it works to it’s advantage to stay put once it finds a good spot. Studies show that the male can home in on the female’s pheromones from over 7 miles away!

She was successful, and the next day found her busy on the deck with a male. Since my brother and his family were going on vacation shortly after this and wouldn’t be able to watch it lay eggs, he wondered if I was interested in “baby sitting.”

It seemed like a great opportunity to photograph the moth laying eggs, and the caterpillars as they grew. A little quick research showed that their foods of choice includes lilac and maple, along with birch, apple and cherry. We have plenty of maple and lilac in the yard. So I cut several lilac twigs and set them into small, rubber capped florists’ water vials to keep the leaves fresh. Then I fit an old aquarium with a screen top and set it up on our porch for the anticipated new arrivals.

I didn’t have long to wait. Within a couple days the female was laying eggs. Unfortunately, I was at work and wasn’t able to capture that shot. It was, however, quite a prolific egg layer and I could see I would be busy with feeding, cleaning up after, and taking pictures of little caterpillars! 

Once the weekend came, I released the adult onto one of our clumps of lilacs and took these pictures. It didn’t fly off, though, and before nightfall I brought it back inside to avoid predators. 

The moth stuck the eggs in place with a liquid "glue" that dried the brown color you see on these eggs.

Within another few days, small black caterpillars began hatching from the eggs. Stay tuned for more pictures of the caterpillars as they grow!

My greatest joy in photography is sharing the connection I experience in nature. 

I wish I could say that connection was automatic for me. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if every time we picked up our camera the masterpieces flowed forth?

Hmm...

To first experience that connection myself (and have something of value to share), I have to step out of my ruts and open myself up to the gifts being shared in front of me.

When I can do that, I come back with something worth sharing. When I’m more absorbed with my own preoccupations while looking through the camera, the pictures show that, too. Examples abound in my files (more of the later than the former, in case you’re wondering). 

My friend Jack Johnson connects well in his photography. In Three Simple Ways to Be Present in Mindful Photography he states “Being present in the landscape will often lead us away from the tripod holes of those who have been here before us, and toward those compositions that speak to our own vision.” 

Rob Sheppard shares has some wonderful insights in “Savoring vs. Harvesting Nature Photography.” He summarizes his post: “So don't be intimidated or encouraged by those who try to impress you with how many gigabytes they shot on their last outing into nature. Be impressed with the nature, savor the experiences, and allow yourself to get involved and connected with nature as you photograph it.”

Well said! Both Jack’s and Rob’s photography reflect their advice. They connect. They are present, paying attention, investing themselves in their surroundings. Isn’t that good advice all around? We all know how healing a little quiet time in nature can be.

When I’m at my best, out with my camera, I’ve taken the time to Stop the cacophony of my everyday life, Look at the gifts sprinkled under foot, and Listen to the message. 

Then I can appreciate the gift in front of me and everything that came together to make it happen -- the blade of grass that grew just so tall, with just enough clear space around it; the fresh snow, which is just the right depth to allow the wind to sweep the leaf in a beautiful arch; lighting that is just right, showing texture and form with soft shadows; and me motivated enough to get out on a cold winter day and wander to this spot with a camera in gloved hands. 

Then, I'm connected, in conversation with the giver. And the photograph becomes part of the conversation, a “Thank-you” that I can also share with others.

“Contemplative prayer” explains to St. Teresa, “is nothing else than a close sharing between friends.” 

I think that’s a great definition of contemplative photography, too!


You can click on the image above, or here to download it as a desktop wallpaper. It is also available in fine-art prints and cards, or for commercial license.