By Leslie Watkins

After autumn’s chilly winds and drenching rains have knocked down the asters and goldenrods and the last leaves have fallen from the trees, hidden things are revealed. Stone walls, lost tools, vole holes and abandoned bird nests are evident.

Illustration by Leslie Watkins © 2017

If you look very closely you may find a cocoon of Hyalophora cecropia, our native giant silk moth, attached to a twig on a tree or shrub. Dry, brown and mistaken for a curled leaf, they are easily overlooked. The metamorphosis that takes place over the winter, however, will create a moth both magnificent and unforgettable. With a wingspan of up to six inches, and possibly more, they are the largest of all North American moths. They have brilliant red furry legs and faces, alternating bands of red and cream on their abdomens, a large spot on each wing to mimic eyes and tones of red, black and cream markings on their wings.

After emerging from their cocoons they live for just two weeks. In this final life stage as moths they no longer have or need mouths; they are done eating. Their only desire is to fly off to find their mate and lay eggs. A male cecropia guided by a female’s pheromones may fly five miles to find her. Afterward, the female lays a hundred or more eggs on a host plant. Apples, lilacs, sugar maples, birch, dogwoods and willows all provide food for newly hatched instars and growing caterpillars. Cecropias suffer heavy predation by birds, spiders and other insects.

I had not seen or known about cecropias until one day several years ago. A new friend asked if I liked nature. When I said yes, he pointed out these two enormous moths mating on a sapling about three feet from the ground. Amazed, I immediately looked them up online. I learned about the predation on cecropias by natural and “beneficial” insects released into our gardens.

I wanted to see if I could assist these beautiful moths to survive in my yard. I collected the pair and placed them in a large plastic bin with a screen on top. After they separated I put the female (identifiable by her smaller antennae) into a sealed brown paper bag. Left undisturbed she laid her eggs onto the walls of the bag. When she was finished I cut the bag into strips with rows of eggs firmly on each one. I tacked the strips onto apple trees and lilacs near the house.

I put some of the eggs into a large jar containing a leafy apple branch to see what would happen. They soon hatched into tiny, fuzzy, black instars with voracious appetites. They quickly ate the leaves, and it wasn’t long before they grew larger, and larger, and LARGER. In no time they were huge! And colorful. Four inches long and as big around as a quarter, bright yellow green with red, blue and yellow knobs all along the length of them.

I couldn’t keep up with the demands of feeding and cleaning up after them. When the larger ones started cannibalizing the smaller ones, I let them loose on a lilac and wished them well. After a day or two I lost sight of them, and I feared they had been eaten by birds. It wasn’t until the leaves were down that I was glad to find the cocoons in my lilacs and apple trees.

I kept that cecropia female after she died and did a life-size painting of her. Pinned to a board, she still resides on a shelf in my studio. Several years have passed, and I have not seen another of these most wonderful creatures, though I keep hoping to find one. I do occasionally find the cocoons in my apples and lilacs, and that makes me happy.

November Checklist

Mulch new plantings

Collect kindling

Sow seeds for stratification

Sharpen and oil tools

Finish planting bulbs

Insulate hives

Trim roses and raspberries

Store pots and ornaments

Shield shrubs from ice

Put out plow stakes