Fred Released

I don't know when he re-emerged. I went to look at the jar and there he was, flapping a the top of the stick. And he was beautiful. Really beautiful. I didn't want to let him go at 11 o'clock at night and decided to wait for morning.

Jacques discovered him this morning, fluttering desperately in the jar. I tried taking more pictures but was distressed at his agitation. I knew I needed to let him go soon.

I took him outside to the grass, sat, opened the top, and waited for him to fly out. Perhaps he was confused by the glass walls because he continued to struggle at the bottom of the jar. Finally, I put my fingers in the jar and let him crawl on them, then I carefully lifted him out. He was so light and delicate, his wings searched slightly for balance. The instant he was free of the rim, he left. He soared up, a black shape against the morning sky. I watched him totter on the breeze. He wheeled and headed towards the juniper, circled behind it, and was gone.

In the jar are the remains of the cocoon, thin and brittle, turning yellow underneath.