Before they transform into moths and butterflies, caterpillars must outwit, outplay, outlast. Sam Jaffe’s images of the tubular creatures show just how: through mimicry, defensive adaptations, and partnerships with plants. The naturalist-photographer has been enamored with the insects since age four. “I used to bring them into my parents’ house,” he says. “They’d find them crawling up the walls.” While working at Harvard University, Jaffe began taking pictures of native caterpillars during his free time, then displaying the results at local galleries. The exhibitions sparked so much interest that he launched an educational nonprofit, the Caterpillar Lab, in 2013, to open our eyes to these masters of metamorphosis and inspire their protection.
(How a caterpillar becomes a butterfly: Metamorphosis, explained.)
“It’s a general trend that if a caterpillar is hairy or spiny, it’s a good one not to touch,” says Jaffe. The cherry dagger variety can cause slight skin irritation.
Pug caterpillars come in a rainbow of hues, depending on their host plant. These raised on blue vervain aren’t a perfect match but can fool from afar.
While some may view the common looper caterpillar as nothing more than a pest of lettuce and tomatoes, Jaffe sees “character and form and color.”
Elm sphinx caterpillars eat elm leaves, of which they’re a near-perfect copy. Even their scratchy, ridged texture is a dead ringer for their host plant’s, says Jaffe.
Blackberry looper caterpillars pretend to be simple twigs or other plant parts. Jaffe notes that as adult moths, they are “absolutely beautiful little green things.”
The eight-spotted forester that Jaffe found on a fox grape tendril vomits when threatened, a common caterpillar defense.
Widespread in much of the world, the painted lady butterfly emerges from a chrysalis that reveals indications of legs, eyes, antennae, and wings—features of the strong and stunning flyer it will become.
Completely obscuring the smilax leaf below them, a group of turbulent phosphila caterpillars gather tightly together. When they sense danger, they start to wiggle, creating a visually confusing show of movement and pattern.
Late-season foliage is often marred by fungus, bite marks, and decay, so late-season caterpillars evolved to mimic these traits, such as this white-blotched prominent variety featuring jagged edges and patchy colors to resemble an old oak leaf.
A double-toothed prominent caterpillar mimics not only the color but also the texture, markings, and profile of the elm leaf it’s snacking on.
This story appears in the September 2024 issue of National Geographic magazine.