Cocoons.

The Earth rings like a bell when a major earthquake strikes. The night sky is turned to sudden day by an electromagnetic storm. Entire solar systems are but dots on some galactic arm whirling through the cosmos. The big stuff commands our attention no doubt, but small things can wrought big change as well, much like a trickle of water can, given enough time, create a canyon deep and wide. I have always looked at insect metamorphosis as one of those small things that show us how things work. It is a masterpiece of evolution, if you believe in evolution; and if you don’t then it is merely a cocoon masterpiece. That a caterpillar can seal itself inside a cocoon and emerge transformed into a wholly different being is a completely unexpected and remarkable outcome. We can watch a frog grow from a tadpole but that conversion takes place in plain sight so to speak, and while it remains amazing it is at least understandable. The caterpillar locks itself away, and like an insect version of Harry Houdini appears later changed utterly as if by magic. And this is not some cheap parlor trick done with ropes, pulleys and mirrors, but actual transformation — as if Houdini, placed shackled in his sealed box, were to spring forth as a ring-tailed lemur, the man forever replaced. In the world of insects this conversion is quite common and likely evolved as a highly practical survival strategy. Metamorphosis places the young and adult versions of the same creature into different worlds, worlds that do not compete with one another. Imagine the amazingly complex interplay of events necessary to create this process over the eons. Some might be tempted to point to a higher being and say this proves the existence of God. But I find the science and the subsequent search for truth far more compelling than the guiding hand of a supreme being. But that’s just me.