Cocoons and Thunderstorms

  Here lately, my hikes have been cut short either by thunderstorms or heat neither of which is desirable walking weather.  Personally, I prefer the thunderstorms.  They are cooler.  This afternoon, however, I did manage to slip down to the pier just after one rainstorm.  There was not much happening but on the way back up the hillside, I found where squirrels had gnawed some oak branches.  The ground was littered with leaves and twigs.  It must be a nest building time for the critters! One brown leaf caught my eye.  There was a nice sized cocoon attached to the leaf.  Since the leaf (and cocoon) had fallen in the debris line left behind by high tide, it was a prime target of ants.  

  I gingerly picked up the the leaf and examined the cocoon.  Yep, our transforming caterpillar was still inside.  As much as I do not care for the leaf-munching caterpillars that attack the garden, I decided that leaving the cocoon near the ants would just not do.  So, I headed up the hill with the cocoon.  There, I examined it a bit further and then had another thought.  Perhaps, the cocoon should not be moved too far from where it had originally been.  So back down the hill, I went.  While I did not want to plop the thing back down where I found it, I did not have a lot of options.  Finally, I decided to poke the leaf/cocoon in the crotch of the very oak that once held the leaf.  Ok, so I rescued the soon-to-be moth from the ants and probably just put it right where one of those aforementioned squirrels would find it.  I am sure that that critter would dine upon the caterpillar if it had its choice about the matter but it is now out of my hands.  Son would be proud.  Even though I interfered by moving the thing out of the way of the ants, I am now leaving it up to Mother Nature to handle this situation.  If she wants well-fed squirrels, so be it!  If she wants the moth to lay eggs in the garden, so be it! I will just have to battle them then, not now.

  Boom!  The thunderstorm let me know that I had better return to the Little Bayou House and forget about the critter snug inside its own little "house".  Or was that Mother Nature telling me to stop interfering with her business?