LIMITED TIME
Watching a butterfly emerge, take flight, and reveal the quiet beauty of transformation
A newly emerged butterfly rests beside the chrysalis.
A newly emerged butterfly rests beside the chrysalis.
Some moments in nature are extraordinary precisely because they happen so quietly. Watching a butterfly emerge from its chrysalis is one of those moments – delicate, unexpected, and impossible not to admire.
One of my butterflies recently emerged from a chrysalis suspended from the lid of a large jar. She was female, newly emerged, and waiting as her wings became ready for flight. Beside her remained the empty chrysalis, a small reminder of the transformation that had just taken place.
For a few precious minutes, the butterfly stayed close to the place where her transformation had unfolded. The scene was quiet and almost still: the newly emerged butterfly, the delicate shell she had left behind, and the anticipation of what would happen next.
There was no need to hurry. The beauty of the moment was in watching it unfold at its own pace.
Then came the change from waiting to movement. Almost immediately, the butterfly flew off and landed on a butterfly bush, where she began feeding on nectar. The transition was striking: moments earlier she had been resting beside the chrysalis, and now she was among the flowers.
After emerging, the butterfly lands on a butterfly bush and feeds on nectar.
It was a simple scene, but an unforgettable one – the first visible step into a completely different stage of life.
Nearby, a second chrysalis was still hanging. This butterfly was not ready to emerge yet. The chrysalis itself was beautiful, marked with delicate golden speckles, and the wings could already be seen through the thin shell.
The second chrysalis remains closed as the transformation continues.
Golden speckles and the developing wings are visible through the thin shell.
Seeing the empty chrysalis beside one butterfly and the still-closed chrysalis of another created a beautiful contrast: one transformation had just reached its visible beginning, while another was still quietly unfolding.
Perhaps this is why butterflies hold our attention so easily. Their transformation gives us a powerful image of patience, possibility, and change. Not every important transition is visible while it is happening, and not every beginning arrives all at once.
The empty chrysalis is evidence of a journey completed. The closed chrysalis is evidence of a journey still in progress. Both are beautiful in different ways.
Watching this butterfly emerge was exciting not simply because of how beautiful she looked, but because the entire experience offered a rare chance to witness transformation at close range – from stillness to movement, from shelter to open air, and from waiting to flight.
And nearby, the second butterfly is still waiting inside her golden-speckled chrysalis. Soon, perhaps, another pair of wings will appear, another first flight will begin, and another small miracle will unfold.
Before I released my two Monarch butterflies this summer, I had the privilege of sharing the experience with my granddaughter Mila. Thanks to a couple of local residents in Ontario’s Kawartha Region, we were invited to the garden of Ria and Randy Whatman. They devote their summers to protecting the eggs and caterpillars of Monarchs, giving them shelter through the most vulnerable stages of their life-cycle, and gifting the miracle of metamorphosis to children and adults alike. I shared a special moment with Mila as she released her first Monarch, which was promptly named after her and tagged with a special tracking number.
As I watched Mila’s namesake fly off, I pondered her daunting journey to Mexico’s Sacred Forests — the longest insect migration in the world, creating the longest lifespan of any butterfly. I was reminded of the courage, persistance and ingenuity of Mila’s mother Catalina, who chose to make the same journey in reverse as she immigrated to Canada, enriching our culture and giving me the most precious gift of all — my granddaughter.
I was reminded of the courage, inspiration and resilience of my parents, who chose to fly into the unknown land of Canada in 1968, fleeing an invasion of our country and starting a new life for our family. I was reminded of the same courage of millions of other immigrants, explorers and early humans who made the journey, driven by the need for change, or simply by the thirst to know the world.
Monarchs don’t recognize borders between Canada, the US or Mexico. They respond to the environment. Do they really care if someone decides to re-name the Gulf of Mexico or Lake Ontario? Perhaps their journey across three great countries will inspire us to heal our political differences and focus on healing our precious and u-nique planet.
We all have a journey to travel in our lifetime; a chance to make a difference. It is up to us if we choose to make this journey with wings.