The Pattons are awash with milkweed. Carol buys young plants at Annies’s Annuals, then covers them with mesh while they grow because the chemicals they’re exposed to in their early days are toxic to caterpillars. At some point the milkweed dies out, and when spring returns the new milkweed is set out for butterflies of any shape or color. Around here that’s the monarch. Here he is in a before shot:
Even though the bottom this image is blurry, I can’t tell which end is his tail. Meanwhile, these little guys travel all over the milkweed, climb down to the Pattons’ patio, crawl around wherever they may please. At some point they feed on their own “skin”, then begin to form a chrysalis, where they’ll spend their next week or two becoming something entirely different.
When the chrysalis is first formed it’s a luminous green. Little white dots line up near the top. The thread that prevents the chrysalis from falling is so tight that even after ferocious winds and seven inches of rain, this chrysalis and soon to be born butterfly below are none the worse for wear.
The day before the butterfly emerges the chrysalis turns black, then immediately before birth turns clear. Afterwards it immediately changes to white. Here a crack emerges between the top part of the shell, the sequence of little yellow dots, and the lower part that clearly shows the wings. The butterfly emerged a second or two after I took this image.
The butterfly has left his chrysalis behind and has begun to climb the milkweed, where he will stay for the next hour or so, opening his wings and pumping fluid into them.
It is during this pre-flight time that the wings receive the fluid that will enable them to open and close, then fly away. The remains of the chrysalis is in the lower left of this photograph.
A close-up image reveals the intricacies of his creation—the spotting, the delicate legs, hinged joints, and even closer the ribbed wings.
But I promised “more than a butterfly.” And here’s the “more” part. When the Pattons told me that the butterfly was about to emerge I asked four year old Hazel to come watch it with me. She turned down the invitation. “I want to watch videos,” she said. Videos. Videos!
Jason turned to me and said, “she declined.” The history behind Hazel making that decision began a year or so ago. Rachel had just dropped Hazel off at our house, and I was charmed by what Rachel had done with Hazel’s hair.
“Hazel, can I take your photograph?” I asked. “No,” she replied. Surprised, I continued. “I like what your mom has done for your hair. I thought you might want to see it, too.”
”No.”
“Hazel,” I added, “I always play ‘Pretty Ponies’ with you when you ask. I’m just asking you to do something for me.” “No,” she replied firmly,
Later that evening Jason mentioned that I had been out of bounds. “I want her to feel that her voice counts,” he said, “and that in the male-oriented society that we live in, men, who control just about everything else, have trouble dealing with empowered women.. She has a say, she has control, and I want her to know that she does.” I was chastened. I accepted all that Jason said and was doing for her. I was impressed.
Later that evening Hazel walked by the dining room table and saw a piece of paper on it, “What’s that?” she asked. Jadyne responded, “That’s Granddad’s.” Hazel picked it up, crumpled it up and dropped it into the wastebasket. Yes indeed, she had a say, and I would never ignore her voice and her feelings again.
Turning the clock back another twenty-five years. We were spending Christmas at Lake Tahoe. Jennifer claimed that girls (children) should be able to make many or most of the decisions that control their welfare.. Jason countered by saying, “You mean that eight year old Lindsey should be able to have sex if she so decided?” The absurdity of the argument wasn’t lost on any of us.
While we want to empower our children, respect their feelings and their voices, there is a line between empowering and the decisions parents absolutely need to make for their children. Hazel voices her own thoughts and is given respect, but neither Hazel or Lindsey can make all their own decisions. Parenting requires knowing the difference between empowering them and taking control, disregarding the child’s feelings at the time. Those decisions need to be made for them and in spite of them.
When she chooses videos over watching a butterfly being born, she should lose that voice. She’s forgotten the video, which, of course, she could have watched at any time. Would she have forgotten the emergence of the monarch? It’s time to say, “No. You’re going out with Granddad.”
