Orange-tip butterfly

A week in the life? That's a laugh. More like a life in the week. If I make it to four weeks I'll be one of the luckiest orange-tip butterflies that ever took wing. Though I'm not inclined to measure success in number of days. Number of females more like. One would be good.

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Monday

Today I completed my metamorphosis. I got through winter as pupa. I did the hatching and caterpillar thing last year. The caterpillar thing is eating, by the way: the seed pods of the garlic mustard plant, and very tasty too. Having eaten enough to last me for a lifetime, I found a nice discreet place and became a pupa. Now it’s spring and I woke from my long sleep as unlike a caterpillar as I'm unlike a human. I woke with wings.

Tuesday

Being a male butterfly is like being a sailor on shore leave: the only things that matter are drink and sex. The drink is nectar. It’s all I need and I'm not fussy about where it comes from: the ultimate energy drink. I did all the eating I needed last year.

Wednesday