Cocoon

In the beginning of time, caterpillars were small animals that could only crawl slowly from place to place.

This made them easy for the birds to catch.

Jarrah, a little green and yellow caterpillar, was not happy about this.

‘If we could just fly too, we would be able to get away!’ He said to his friends.

His friends laughed.

‘How are we going to fly, Jarrah? We don’t have wings!’

‘Ah! Maybe we can make some!’

‘Ever a dreamer!’ His friends shook their heads. But they watched him with interest.

Jarrah set about making and trying different wings.

He decided the thin bark from a Paperbark Tree might work.

He pulled pieces off a tree and ran along the ground flapping his little arms as hard as he could.

‘My goodness! You are fast for a caterpillar! But what exactly are you trying to do?’ A spider named Merindah looked at him in curiosity.

He stopped, breathless and answered her.

‘I’m learning to fly!’

‘Oh! What an interesting idea! But where are your wings?’

‘I was trying paperbark, but it doesn’t seem to be right.’

‘Hmmm, maybe you need feathers, just like the birds. Wait! I’ll climb up to the nest up in the tree and bring back some feathers!’ With that, the spider left her web and disappeared up the tree.

She retuned with two small feathers for him. He took them, thanked her and tried again.

Jarrah got a run up and flapped the feathers as fast as he could.

But he still didn’t fly.

Merindah looked confused. ‘I was sure that would work. Birds have lots of feathers however, maybe that’s why feather wings work for them.’

At that moment, a leaf fell from the top of the tree and floated down beside them.

‘Leaves! We could use leaves!’ She shouted excitedly.

‘But birds don’t have to hold their wings. Maybe since I have to hold mine, they won’t work properly.’ Jarrah said, sounding disappointed.

His friends arrived to see how his attempts to learn to fly are going.

‘Are you flying yet?’ They asked.

‘No,’ Jarrah said, ‘but I have an idea! Merindah, could you attach the leaves to my back with your silk?’

‘What a great idea! Why didn’t I think of that?’ And she set about spinning silk and attaching his leaf-wings.

Once done, Jarrah tried running again. But the wings fluttered and dipped, slowing him down.

His friend, Yarran, called out. ‘Maybe you should try getting up high, up in the tree. That is how the leaves fly, from up high.’

‘Yes! That will work!’ Jarrah looked up the tall tree beside them. ‘I will go to the top!’

Merindah did not think it was a good idea, but Jarrah insisted.

So he climbed. When he got to the top of the tree, he ran to the end of a branch and jumped off.

His leaf-wings caught the wind and he flew!

He could hear his friends cheering. But only for a moment before his wings folded straight up and he fell.

His friends rushed to his side. ‘Jarrah! Are you OK?’

Merindah checked. ‘He is breathing, but he is hurt.’

‘What do we do?’ Yarran asked.

‘He needs healing. I will wrap him in my silk. It has special power. It helps my babies grow fast from eggs to little spiders able to be on their own. It will work for him, too.’

The spider wrapped Jarrah up in her silk, including his leaf-wings. She completely covered him from head to tail and then hung the bundle up under the shelter of a bush.

‘We have to wait and see. We will all check on him.’

For days his friends and the spider watched over his cocoon, waiting for Jarrah to heal.

One morning Yarran called out. ‘Come quickly! Something is happening!’

Everyone gathered to see.

Jarrah’s cocoon wiggled and a crack appeared. It split all the way down and the caterpillar pushed his way out.

He stretched out and his friends gasped.

Jarrah had long legs, a softly fury body, antennae.

And big beautiful wings of an iridescent blue.

He beat his wings and flew!

‘We want to learn to fly too!’ Shouted his friends.

Merindah taught the caterpillars to spin their own silk into cocoons so they could all grow wings and fly.

And so to this day, caterpillars make special cocoons and emerge as butterflies.

How spiders got their silk is a story for another day.