Interview with a Caterpillar
“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.
The larger-than-life hookah-smoking caterpillar interrogated the bewildered Alice who had stumbled into the most curious of gardens. Often, in my own wild garden, I am the inquisitor, peering more deeply into the green foliage curtain to scrutinize an unfamiliar visitor. New faces prompt me to ask, “Who are you?” And even more significantly, “Who will you become?” Recently while picking through the greens in my garden, I was startled by a great hairy presence- the likes of which I had never seen. I ran inside to retrieve a ruler; I wanted to thoroughly document my latest discovery! Fully 3 inches long and as thick as one of my fingers, the little beast was making quick work of a sorrel leaf. A hasty Google search provided a possible identity- but I wasn’t entirely convinced. The best step forward seemed to be detaining the creature- so I placed him (or her?) in a plastic tub with some leaves and a piece of netting. I wanted my family to see this marvelous creature.
The family also performed a Google search and we concurred. This was a Salt Marsh moth caterpillar. Never mind that there are NO salt marshes anywhere near Tulsa, Oklahoma. The moth is attractive, but a little disappointing in the size department. I just assumed a caterpillar this large would produce a moth large enough to charter for trans-Atlantic flights. Nevertheless, I gave the caterpillar a pass.
This is not the first garden guest I have sought to keep and protect. Unlike other Oklahoma gardeners, I look forward to discovering a horn worm amongst my tomatoes. I am not always lucky enough to host one, but when I am, they have a special place in my garden. I have seen them decimate a plant, and so I am prepared to sacrifice a plant each year. These chartreuse anamorphic fellows with their chubby legs transform into hummingbird moths- a creature that has enchanted me since youth.
I love tending to the “humanity” of my garden. The plants bring happiness but I find utter joy in witnessing those plants provide for the creatures who live here. I watch the cardinals alight on the trellises then dive into the green masses in search of bugs. I spy on shy lizards in the undergrowth and the vulnerable tree frogs clinging to leaves. New insects frequently lead to new investigations- who are you? who will you become?
These are the same questions I ponder when I gaze at my children. “Who are you? Who will you become?” I ask myself nearly daily- “Who are you? Who will you become?” and in these turbulent days of pandemic and social awakening the significance of these questions becomes all the more apparent. These are the questions we should all be asking ourselves. The Salt Marsh Caterpillar and the adventurous young Alice have much to teach us.
