The shift in perspective had something to do with it. I’d been crouched low, scratching weeds from some paving, when what appeared to be a small Chinese dragon rippled into view. Startled, I rocked back on my heels. The dragon seemed covered with hairs, which felt alarming. Then I got my bearings and recognised it as the caterpillar of a tussock moth, the vapourer to be precise, a creature that if it weren’t so common would be one more example of how nature can outperform the human imagination.
A little less than an inch and a half long, the vapourer’s black body was fringed with hairs the colour of ripe wheat. These emerged from raised scarlet pads called tubercules, one either side and two on top of each segment, except for the four middle segments, which were crowned with dramatic tussocks more yellow in tone. Aware of my presence, the caterpillar flexed itself. Vapourers have defence glands on the tail and, when threatened, flex like this to empty noxious fluid on to their body – a defence against predators, but no threat to a human.
