Au Revoir, Mon Papillon

Today was the day. This morning, when I checked on Herb, his little green case had begun to turn dark gray. I thought I'd seen some grayishness showing through when I put him outside the other day, but I suspected myself of wishful thinking--you know, how you might suspect your little boy's voice is dropping, but then he clears his throat and it was just your imagination? (I dunno, I'm kinda making that up, but you get the idea, I hope.)

This evening, I got home early, and dragged Rosie out back with me to check on the little guy. (She couldn't have cared less about him, but there's always the possibility of rabbits!)

I eagerly stepped up to the sage plant, and peered down into it. There, on the stick, was a faded, papery, empty cocoon. Stupidly, I lifted my eyes and scanned the yard, maybe thinking he'd just left and was still hanging around the garden. But nope, he was gone. Didn't even leave a note. "So long, and thanks for all the parsley." Just an empty casing; insect trash.

Somewhere, around the neighborhood, is something that looks a little like this:

Good luck, Herb! Thanks for stopping by!

I didn't get a chance to snap a pic of the empty pupa before dark, but I'll add one to the bottom of this post when I get a chance.