They’re back. The Monarch butterflies, Danaus plexippus, are now wafting through Central Texas, orange and black wings gracefully flit against the Texas sun before alighting at blooming plants for nourishment, sustaining their long flight, continuing their annual life cycle.
Like so many of us, Monarchs face an uncertain future: climate change, deforestation in Mexico, overuse of pesticides and herbicides in urban gardening and commercial farming in the United States are just some of the challenges to a viable population of these insects.
I am joyful at the first Monarch sighting in spring and then again, in autumn. Currently, my garden offers a diversity of flowering plants–native and nonnative–in which the butterflies nectar from before they move southward toward their winter home. In autumn, it’s all about providing blooming flowers for these hungry, hungry butterflies.
In spring, the availability of milkweed (Monarchs’ host plant) is paramount for the hungry, hungry caterpillars.
This generation of adults are those last born in the northern parts of the United States and Canada and are now headed to Mexico.
Once these remarkable insects arrive at their destination, they will gather in dramatic clusters by the millions, high up in the Oyamel fir forests of the Sierra Madre Mountains in Mexico. The unique situation offers cold temperatures and high humidity during the winter–the evolved perfect environment for Monarchs’ winter rest.
The adults who overwinter in Mexico are those who will return through Texas (the major migration pathway) next March, laying eggs on a variety of native milkweed plants. That first (or is it the last?) generation begins the life cycle all over again: adults mate, females lay eggs, the adults then die. Eggs hatch, caterpillars eat the milkweed, morph to the next generation, the flights resume. The ancient rhythm continues in leap-frog fashion, northward through spring and into summer.
At some point in August, six generations later, because of a change in light and through a magnetic pull that the Monarchs have responded to for eons, the last set of adults turn southward and begin their 2000 mile journey toward the Mexican mountain firs which await winged occupation.
Stopping briefly as they migrate to Mexico, Monarchs are enjoying a respite in my garden; the first of many arrived a couple of days ago.
I am an appreciative witness to this natural event.
I’m joining today with Anna and her Wednesday Vignette. Check out her beautiful Flutter and Hum for musings of various sorts.