I was fretting, bending and stretching and gazing onto every petal and leaf, careful not to disturb a bumblebee, so drunk on pollen she was stuck in a milkweed blossom. Where there had been, just an hour before, a very large caterpillar munching away on a leaf, there was now no caterpillar and the leaf quite severed. A few steps away, another caterpillar, much younger in his leafy transactions, was also missing in action.
Where had they gone?
Tom came out to help me search, with nary a caterpillar in sight.
We moved about, picking up sticks and pulling up weeds in that haphazard way gardening folks have of impulsively tidying up, then, standing like honor guards of the milkweed, something flitted about, cast its shadow, dusted the daisies and other blooms before finding its target, where it sat for a spell, sunning its wings in the sunshine.
Oh, and I finally found the caterpillars late in the afternoon.