Monarch Madness

Monarch Butterfly enjoying Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) earlier this summer

I've been away a lot this summer, but I am happy to report that our garden is doing just fine without me. Luckily, I put in a few days of weeding and thinning in June, or the whole place would be a mad jungle, overgrown and covered with towering goldenrod and swamp sunflowers. Instead, it is a lush and thriving riot of colors, but with some boundaries! And so when I returned this week from yet another trip out of town, I was tickled to discover about 20 monarch caterpillars happily munching on the big Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) in the front yard. It is common to see Monarchs here all summer, but the population really picks up in September and October as the butterflies make their way, usually above the treetops, to Mexico for winter. I believe that the caterpillars I'm seeing were from eggs laid one or two weeks ago. It appears that there are two batches on the bush--the big fat ones that are just about ready to pupate, and the ones about half their size that will be grown in about a week. I saw a female laying eggs yesterday and I hope that the ravenous hordes leave a few branches for the last generation.

Monarch caterpillars, madly munching

This is important to me because I love Monarchs. They're really pretty, and who doesn't admire their amazing migration story? And they're in danger. Monarch populations have decreased by about 90 percent from numbers recorded over 20 years ago. The causes are many--habitat destruction, pesticides, herbicides, and loss of their food source--milkweed, to name a few. It's exciting and uplifting to participate in the Monarch life cycle. Our yard is certified as a Butterfly Habitat and is a stop on the Rosalynn Carter Butterfly Trail. Monarchs will only lay their eggs on plants in the Milkweed family. There are many varieties specific to regions of the country. We plant native nectar and host plants for many kinds of butterflies and refrain from using herbicides or pesticides in the garden. The result is a healthy habitat for all sorts of creatures--butterflies, bees, wasps, birds, moths, spiders, etc.

Milkweed Bugs eat Milkweed Seeds

Aphids infest the milkweed every year. They drink the sap. I don't mind them, but if they bother you, you can squirt them off with a hose or just brush off with a paint brush. Pesticides will harm other insects, such as butterflies.

Great big Green Lynx spider and lots of aphids

Japanese Lady Beetle (aka Ladybug) and aphids

Milkweed Beetle eats the leaves

But the garden is not without its perils for the butterflies. Last night I walked past the milkweed bush again and flushed a bird that was probably hunting for caterpillars and bugs on the stems. A moment later I spotted the female Monarch that earlier I had watched lay eggs. She was caught in the jaws of an enormous Green Lynx spider perched on top of the milkweed bush. The spider had caught the butterfly and was eating it. I felt a temporary twinge of sadness for the butterfly, but then cheered for the spider who needed food for herself. Her huge abdomen was swollen, probably with eggs, and she needed nourishment, too. The butterfly had passed on her genes through her eggs, so she had fulfilled her biological destiny and was now part of the food chain. Whether those eggs will grow to adults and also pass on genes is a crap shoot. But this is why butterflies lay so many eggs, and why it is important for there to be milkweed patches all over for them to lay their eggs on. This morning I found that the spider had caught one of the caterpillars and was busily sucking it dry. Birds and wasps catch and eat them, too. Aphids are very attracted to milkweed. They are sap suckers, and sometimes they will harm or kill the plants. But the aphids attract ladybugs and their larvae that snack on aphids like popcorn. Milkweed Bugs make their home in the plants and eat the seeds, and Milkweed Beetles eat leaves. The 20 hungry Monarch caterpillars will strip the leaves off the bush within another week or so and may eat themselves out of house and home. All these beings are competing for the resources on these plants.

Green Lynx spider with Monarch for dinner

Something killed this caterpillar, and now it is food for the ants. The green blobs are caterpillar poop, also called "frass"

Green Lynx Spider with Monarch caterpillar for breakfast

New Monarch egg, with shadow of a ladybug larvae on the back of the leaf

Big, fat Monarch caterpillars quickly defoliate a milkweed plant

Some people who grow butterfly gardens will collect the eggs and grow the caterpillars to adults inside protective enclosures to keep them safe. I totally understand their care and concern, but as I told someone yesterday, I am more of a "free range" butterfly gardener. It makes me uncomfortable to make these creatures my captives. I feel much better about providing an opportunity for them to grow and thrive out in the world, but as part of a greater ecosystem. That's another aspect of the tragic loss of the massive Monarch population. They are part of an interdependent web of life. We all feel their loss. I encourage everyone who has an interest in helping the Monarch to try to plant native milkweed in their garden or even in a container garden on a deck. Do your part to help keep this iconic insect from disappearing. Go out and garden on!

The caterpillar doesn't seem to mind the aphids

Update: a few days later I went out to see if the Green Lynx spider had caught any more caterpillars and found that it was missing! In its place was a caterpillar, casually chewing on the leaves of the hunter's lair. I thought the spider must have become a meal for a hungry wasp or bird, an ironic turn in the in the circle of life. But then I saw some movement in the Blue Mist Flower bush next to the milkweed. The spider had simply moved to richer hunting grounds. Maybe she got tired of eating bitter Monarchs, but in any case, the milkweed is now packed with caterpillars and other insects of all shapes and sizes, safer for now. The egg I pictured above hatched and its tiny contents now roam the branches alongside of the aphids. And I spotted the first of what I imagine are many chrysalids hanging from a low tree sprout, far away from the caterpillars and things that hunt them. And so it goes...

Caterpillar chewing on the spider's lair

Happy spider

New hatchling, not much bigger than an aphid

A fresh chrysalis, hopefully one of many

Join the Butterfly Trail!

Discovery Day at the Carter Center

This past weekend my husband and I had the pleasure of attending the Rosalynn Carter Butterfly Trail Discovery Day at the Carter Presidential Center in Atlanta. The Butterfly Trail was established when former First Lady, Mrs. Carter became concerned after learning about the plight of the Monarch Butterfly and wanted to do something about it. She contacted Annette Wise, Program Director at the Jimmy Carter Education Program, who helped her start a butterfly garden at her home in Plains, Georgia to increase public awareness of the problem, especially for children, and to teach about the importance of planting milkweed. By creating her garden in Plains, Mrs. Carter inspired the creation of other butterfly gardens across the state and the Rosalynn Carter Butterfly Trail began. Now the trail includes over 300 public, private and school gardens across the state of Georgia and the U.S. The pollinator garden at the Carter Presidential Center in Atlanta is one of the gardens on the Butterfly Trail. Up until a few weeks ago, I had never even heard of the Rosalynn Carter Butterfly Trail, but now I know a lot more and have already added our garden to the trail map!

The Pollinator Garden at the Carter Center

Proclaiming Pollinator Week and Recognizing the Rosalynn Carter Butterfly Trail

We spent a fun and informative morning learning about butterflies and their habitat. We listened to speakers, including Mrs. Carter (!) who talked about the project and the importance of butterfly conservation. We watched a fun children's play about monarchs and visited the discovery stations. The activities were geared to children and it was very exciting to see the enthusiasm of the next generation of conservationists! At the end of the morning we purchased some native butterfly host and nectar plants to bring home to our own garden. It was a wonderful and uplifting day.

Mrs. Carter Speaking About Monarchs

Discussion After the Children's Play

Educational Stations

Creating Seed Balls

Monarch Caterpillar on Milkweed

Male and Female Monarchs

Monarch Body Prints to Test for Presence of a Protozoan Parasite
To Learn More About Citizen Science Projects Like This, Click HERE

The Local North American Butterfly Association (NABA) Chapter Had an Activity Table
Find Your Local Chapter and Join HERE. 

Butterfly Host Plants Native to the Georgia Piedmont Region

The migration of millions of Monarch butterflies from Canada to Mexico and back again every year is one of the world's natural wonders. But loss of habitat, development, the disappearance of milkweed (the Monarch caterpillar's host plant), pesticide use and other factors have all contributed to drastic declines in the population of the amazing Monarch Butterfly and threaten their existence. Monarchs are important pollinators and are wonderful and beautiful to look at. Their decline can be seen as an indicator of greater troubles in the world's ecosystems, and protecting them and their habitat will help other pollinators, as well as the creatures (like us) who depend on the pollinators. Learning about and protecting Monarchs and other butterflies and pollinators is an excellent way to teach people, young and old alike, about the interdependent web of life. Conservation efforts are already paying off and the numbers of Monarchs are on the rise again. You can be part of the solution! To learn more about the Rosalynn Carter Butterfly Trail, click HERE. It is easy to add your garden to the list of stops along the trail. Celebrate National Pollinator week by joining in!

A Pollinator Visits the Garden

Santa Cruz, Part 1--How Much Nature Can We Fit into One Week? (A Lot!)

After all the upheaval in the past few months, I feel like things are starting to settle down. I'm getting comfortable with the idea of a big move. In fact, I have to admit that I'm looking forward to it! Things are moving smoothly into place and now I have a little time to think, so I am tidying up loose ends and taking care of things like unposted blogs! So let's take a trip back in time...

At the end of December, my family converged on Santa Cruz, California for a holiday reunion. When we arrived in California, the weather was cool but dry. It had been rainy the week before, but it cleared up while we were there. We were happy that the rain cleared for us because we had outdoor plans. Unfortunately for Californians, who are in the worst drought on record, the rain hasn't returned. One selfish benefit of the rain was that we were allowed more showers and toilet flushes than we had originally expected. Drought is serious business. But we were still stingy with water and practiced the old "if it's yellow, be mellow, if it's brown, flush it down" rule of water conservation and limited showering (probably a little "TMI").

When I awoke the first morning I was still on East Coast time, so I took advantage of being an early riser (a rarity for me) and walked down the street to the Neary Lagoon Park before the rest of the group was ready for our day's excursions. I wrote about visiting this wonderful urban wetland park last January. I just never tire of finding sanctuaries like this in the center of busy cities. Everyone needs a little refuge. I read that this one was visited by a Mountain Lion last fall, so next time I'm in Santa Cruz, I'll keep my eyes open for big paw prints! Neary Lagoon runs right through the middle of Santa Cruz and when I visited it was bustling with birds ready to greet the morning. In the course of a half hour walk along boardwalks, I saw, among other things, a Townsend's Warbler, a Bushtit, a Black and White Warbler, a Western Scrub Jay, Pied Billed Grebes, many Robins and Mallard Ducks, and an Anna's Hummingbird. It was a great welcome back to Santa Cruz!

Townsend's Warbler, right where I left him last year!

Puffy Bushtit

Black and White Warbler

Western Scrub Jay

Robin Redbreast

The Noble Mallard

When everyone was dressed, fed and ready, we headed to Wilder Ranch State Park, just a short drive away. What I really want to do when I visit a new place is check out the wildlife and plants. I haul my backpack full of camera gear everywhere and I want to use it! Luckily for me, my family is interested nature and hiking too, so it didn't take much convincing to get them to go to state parks and take other active outings during our week. My sister-in-law is a huge geocaching enthusiast, so she quickly found that there was one hidden on the trail to the ocean cliffs. And while everyone else was exploring the geocache and signing the log sheet, I was examining the neat pile of innards that was lying on the trail. I don't know what they came from, but I figure some predator tossed them aside, opting instead for yummy flesh. There were no other bits lying around to give hints about what, when or why.

The Geocache

Innards

After a short walk, we reached the cliffs and looked out over the water. The ocean is so big and it always makes me feel so small. The warning sign on the edge reminded us that change here is constant. The fault slips a little here and a little there and the waves pound unceasingly, re-forming the coastal landscape. A few days later when we visited another beach, someone actually fell off of one of the cliffs. We didn't see it and were never able to figure out exactly what happened or if the person survived, but the helicopter, ambulances and emergency teams let us know it was a serious accident.

View from the Trail

It's a Long Way Down

I scanned the horizon for spouts from whales or jumping dolphins. No whales or dolphins (that day!) but I could see hundreds of birds, mostly Cormorants, Seagulls and Brown Pelicans out on the rocks. Nearby there were big, fat Harbor Seals, enjoying the morning sun. Surf Scoters bobbed in the waves and Oystercatchers patrolled the rocks looking for shellfish morsels. On the way back to the car I heard a funny sound and found a pair of Meadowlarks popping up and down in a bush. Our best find of the day was the White Tailed Kite hunting overhead. I had no idea what it was but its fluttering actions seemed familiar somehow. I should have recognized it as a kite, but I just wasn't thinking that way. I thought at first it was a gull, but my mom kept insisting that it was some sort of raptor. She was so right! Proof, once again, that you should always listen to your mother.

Mostly Cormorants

Brown Pelicans

Seals and Gulls

It's a Rough Life--Harbor Seals Sunning

White Tailed Kite

Pop Go the Meadowlarks!

When my parents moved to Santa Cruz, I was surprised to learn that there was a major Monarch Wintering spot right down the road from their house. I had thought (incorrectly) that the Monarchs all wintered in Mexico. Over the years I have learned that there are several populations of Monarchs (even some in Florida) and the ones that live West of the Rockies overwinter in the Eucalyptus trees of coastal California. The Monarch Watch website says that the California Monarchs make up over 5% of the world population, so these are important sites. In boom years, Natural Bridges State Beach in Santa Cruz has had as many as 100,000 Monarchs sheltering there. So, one day we took a trip to Natural Bridges because we heard that there were still some butterflies clustered in the trees. Sadly, the numbers were very low this winter. Drought, deforestation, lack of habitat and many other factors contributed to the low numbers (I read that the local Steller's Jays have developed a taste for them). I saw the one cluster in the park and it was still breathtaking. But we were told that we were seeing only a fraction of what would normally be roosting there. Numbers in the park were up to 7500 after being even lower in years past. I can't imagine what the world will be like if we lose these wonders.

Wintering Monarchs

Next up, part 2--Giants...

The Power of Names

I recently returned from a trip back to my hometown of Salt Lake City. When I first made my plans, I thought I'd be able to fit in much more exploring than I actually had time for. I was hoping to take a trip to the Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge on the north end of the Great Salt Lake, and maybe also fit in a trip to Antelope Island in the middle of the lake. But I was there on family business, and as it turned out, there was little time for exploring. Still, I managed to squeeze in a few nice walks and photo sessions and that took care of some of my yearnings. I took my journeys at points in the week when I really needed a break or relief from stress, and they really helped. I came home to Florida feeling like I'd reconnected a little bit with my birthplace, which felt nice.

California Gull--State Bird. I knew this one. (And I know people make fun of Utah for having a California Gull as its state bird, but there's a whole story behind it. Read here and you will understand.)

I found it interesting that although I was returning home, when it came to the specifics of birds and plants and butterflies in Salt Lake, I felt as much a tourist as I ever did in South America. I had to look up almost everything I saw. The Utah mountains, landscape and smells felt so familiar, but I was looking with a different degree of attentiveness than I ever had when I lived there. As a child, I knew Robins and Seagulls, but had no awareness of other birds. They were dots in the sky--sparrows, every one. As for flowers, I knew the yard plants--roses, tulips and lilacs, and also Sego Lilies, the Utah State Flower that I learned about in elementary school, but have still never actually seen. I caught Mourning Cloak and Tiger Swallowtail butterflies and pinned them to a styrofoam cooler lid after killing them in a jar with a turpentine soaked rag, but had never seen a chrysalis. I knew Black Widow spiders because they lived in our basement, and the Box Elder Bugs because of their yearly infestation of the tree outside my bedroom window, but for the most part, I didn't pay attention to the details or the names of things around me. I don't know why--maybe it was that they were all too familiar, or maybe I just didn't know how interesting they were.

Magpies were so common when I was growing up. I miss them here in Florida. 

California Quail run through yards and streets, often with their chicks following in a row

I moved away from Utah when I was 19, and only started really being interested in knowing plants and animals a few years later when my husband and I moved to the mountains outside of Santa Fe, New Mexico. We built a tiny cabin in the woods (maybe I'll write about that some day...) and we had much of the forest to ourselves. On our walks I found marvelous red, tubular flowers that I later identified with a field guide from the library as Scarlet Penstemon. Soon I identified the Blue Lupine and hot orange Indian Paintbrush that lit up the stark red dirt landscape, and I learned that you could smell the vanilla scent of Ponderosa Pine a lot better if you hugged the trees tight. Knowing what to call things made me feel like an insider, like they were part of my sphere. When I knew their names, I knew them. My introduction to naming the birds and other animals came several years later while camping in the Olympic Peninsula with family friends who pointed out the Cormorants, Murres and Porpoises. The same friend told us, when we were living in Wisconsin and struggling to identify the large hawk hopping around on our lawn gobbling earthworms, that if it had a red tail, it was a Red-Tailed Hawk. "But it has fluffy legs!" we complained. "Does it have a red tail?" he asked. "Yes." "Then it's a Red-Tailed Hawk." It seemed so easy for him. He knew the names.

Baby Robin gets a meal

I didn't even know there were Monarch Butterflies in Salt Lake when I was a kid.

Or Squirrels. How could I have missed squirrels?

Some Kind of Cottontail Rabbit 

Then we came to Florida 16 years ago, and this place was so unlike any other place we'd lived in. I was determined to learn as much as I could about our new home because it was all new to us. First I learned to identify the Azaleas and Live Oaks and other plants in the yard, and those were quickly followed by Palmetto Bugs, Banana Spiders and Black Racer snakes. Then the wildflowers caught my eye, and the butterflies that sat on them, nectaring, came next. As I learned the names of the plants and animals in our new home, the more observant I became. I learned their habits. It was as if I had new eyes that looked for the details that would help me get to know them better. I quickly came to appreciate and love the beauty of Florida. Later on I learned that there were names, and then there were names. This was when I was introduced to the power of the scientific names for organisms. I have given up learning the latin when it comes to animals, but with plants, I am a willing student of the botanical names because the names tell me about their lineage. Not only can I know who they are, but I can also know the clans that they come from. It all starts to make sense!

Showy Milkweed (Asclepias speciosa)

But the more I know, the more I know I don't know. I'm on a first name basis with many of the natural inhabitants of my city and county. The ones I don't know, I can usually figure out after a while with some detective work because they look familiar. (And also, I have a ton of my own field guides now.) But when I venture away from home, I get lost. I don't know the names, or even their families. Things look familiar, but I'm just not sure how they fit together. And some are not familiar at all and I don't even know where to begin. I feel unsure and tentative, aware that I am in foreign territory. That's how I felt in Salt Lake much of the time this past week, despite growing up there. I didn't know where to look or what to look for. But once I got looking, I saw a lot. And now I have the basic identification tools and know where to start to name what I see. It's a challenge, like a great puzzle. And this makes every trip, whether it's to another county, to another Country, or back to the state where I was born, a great new adventure. When I add a new name to my list, I know that plant or animal and I feel a new connection to that place. That's the power of names.

I knew the American Goldfinch because they come to my yard feeders

The Great Spangled Fritillary looks similar to the Variegated Fritillary in Florida

I know this is a Crescent Butterfly, but I haven't figured out which kind yet

Black Chinned Hummingbird

Black Capped Chickadee

Black Headed Grossbeak

Spotted Towhee (I knew it was a Towhee from its call, but it sounded so strange!)

Lazuli Bunting, male (I gasped when I saw this one. So pretty!)

Lazuli Bunting, female