Flying Flowers. Masters of Disguise.
Butterflies get oooohs and aaaaahs from all ages. I remember small clouds of them rising from drying mud at the end of a driveway. Small white or sunny yellow were the most popular. Larger, darker Swallowtail visited on occassion.
When we were young and foolish — or perhaps curious and ill-informed — my brother and I found a cocoon and brought it inside in hope of watching it hatch. Nothing happened. Perhaps it was a dud. Or the change in temperature killed it.
I’m more inclined to let them be now. Perhaps if my camera’s handy I’ll snap a photo. But in general I’ll leave caterpillars and cocoons alone in the outdoors. The adults are such fun to watch flitting from blossom to blossom.