Tomato Diaries

There has been a new, time-sensitive development- one which I knew nothing about until literally 5 minutes ago. My day began like any other, sleepy and full of promise. But within seconds of making my morning tea, I was plucked from my peace and dropped in front of this now familiar fork in the road: choosing between getting more blood on my hands, or the unknown consequences of interfering with natural selection. And I have just 1 hour before I’m supposed to go to the pool with my friend like a normal person during a regular, relaxing summer. Sigh.

Basically, this morning I opened my blinds and sliding door to gaze upon nature’s splendor and listen to the sweet sounds of breeze and birdsong. As usual, it was lovely. I was looking around at the tomato plants to see if any of them needed to be watered or picked, when The Thing happened. A stunning monarch butterfly started floating through my garden, and it was nothing short of breathtaking. I was so mesmerized that I got 0 pictures. She was balletic, gently fluttering near then twirling and backing away from my lemon tree, snake plants, and tomatoes. As time went on, her flying became more erratic, looking kind of like the butterfly equivalent of tweaking. She jerkily zig-zagged and swerved around until finally landing on one of my plumerias. She hopped from leaf to leaf, clinging to them and turning her body to try and stay on even though she was bigger than them and looked ridiculous. There was no way she was comfortable trying to hold onto the waxy leaves without falling. That’s when it hit me- maybe she was laying eggs? Her strange contortion probably lasted only 5-10 min, even though it felt like time stood still as I watched what was possibly the miracle of life unfolding right before my eyes. She flew away a few times, probably trying to avoid putting all her eggs in one basket, before returning to haphazardly try and balance on different leaves. 

Once some time had passed without her return, I went outside to inspect the plants. There were, indeed, 4 monarch eggs that I could find on the underside of the plumeria leaves. “This is amazing!!” I thought, followed immediately by “huh…do monarch caterpillars eat plumeria leaves?” No. No they do not. Or rather, they can, but then they die. Searching the internet for more information, I discovered that while plumerias belong to the same family as milkweed, the leaves are toxic to the caterpillars, and “any caterpillars that try to eat the leaves will quickly die.” Great. I quickly looked up milkweed to see how similar they look to plumerias to try and justify this terrible mistake, but they actually look completely different. Different types of stems, different sized leaves, different color, size, and shape of flowers…somehow the mom missed all of that. What an idiot. Another possibility is that the mom actually knew exactly what she was doing. Maybe she did not feel ready to be a mother so she took action into her own hands? Regardless of the reason, decisions like this are not going to help with their endangered status. Additionally, jumping spiders will eat monarch eggs and the newly hatched caterpillars. Good thing none of those are around! Not. 

Now I have to decide if I want to get local milkweed so they can maybe live. Apparently conservationists don’t condone raising monarchs indoors because it eliminates predation and natural selection, and it can even disrupt their flight pattern instincts. But…would it be so wrong to get a milkweed plant, put the eggs on it, and leave it outside, just so that their first bite of food isn’t also their last? Or would that create some kind of Final Destination scenario, shifting fate so that all the caterpillars still die, but now they have to die in crazy situations? Who’s to say? I know this happens constantly in nature and that’s just life, but I don’t love that this time it’s happening right in front of me and my plants would be the accidental murderers. For now, I am going to table this moral conundrum and try to enjoy a relaxing time at the pool. If the eggs survive the spiders and are still there in the morning, I will make a decision about intervening then.