A Flutter of Butterflies

Sightings of migrating Monarch butterflies, Danaus plexippus, have been few and far between this autumn. I’ve observed one or two, here and there, the burnished beauties’ wafting through my garden, wings wide open, brightened honey-colored by the sun’s rays. By late September and early October, despite ongoing drought and heat, some of the Monarchs’ favorite blooms were in full, flowering mode, ready and waiting for brief visits from the passing butterflies.

Frostweed, Verbesina virginica is always a favorite.

Gregg’s Mistflower, Conoclinium greggii, is another autumn blooming Monarch magnet.

Pollinators, including Monarchs, love Turk’s Cap, Malvaviscus arboreus var. drummondii.

Though it was heartening to see the Monarchs, a few passing through doesn’t suggest a migrating group.

That changed a wee bit this past last week. For a couple of days, I counted 14-15 Monarchs working the graceful flowers of my Mexican Orchid Tree, Bauhinia mexicana.

Here, there’s one in the foreground and two in the background; there’s also a little dab of umber in the left background. That brown beauty is a Queen, Danaus gilippus, a cousin to the Monarch.

These two Monarchs worked the orchid tree flowers, while in the blurry background, False Willow or Poverty Weed, Baccharis neglecta, hosts its own party of pollinators. The willow attracts many native bees, honeybees, and some of the small skippers. It’s alive with movement.

I probably should have shot a video of the fluttering butters rather than trying to capture photos. The darned things continually moved from bloom to bloom and when they were bored with that, played hide-n-seek behind the ungulate-shaped foliage. I’d focus on one or two, then whoosh, they wing out of the camera’s sight. It was nigh impossible for this picture-taker to capture the glorious activity around the flowers.

This small group, welcome though it was, doesn’t come close to the numbers of Monarchs that have graced my garden in the past. But given the survival challenges that Monarchs face, I am pleased that there were so many for a day or two, and that I had ready for them nectar-rich food sources. Recent research has suggested that the migrating Monarchs are losing the will to migrate, due to a host of factors. For more information about this sad, but perhaps evolutionary trend, check out this article from Texas Butterfly Ranch.

I’m not sure if the group I observed constitutes a flutter of butterflies–a term that refers to a mass of butterflies, but I do love the use of the term flutter, along with the other words used for butterfly gangs, like the following: a flight of butterflies, a kaleidoscope of butterflies, a rainbow of butterflies, a shimmer of butterflies, a swarm of butterflies, and a wing of butterflies.

Many or one, Monarchs are a joy to witness, a balm for the soul.

Mega Monarch Migration

A while back I’d read that this year was good for the Monarch Butterfly, Danaus plexippus. From Canada, through the mid-west states of the United States, and now in Texas, Monarchs are on the move in healthier numbers than in recent years. I saw my first autumn Monarch back in August, earlier than normal, but I never complain when I see a butterfly, especially a Monarch. Throughout September, individuals wafted through my garden, drifting up and down in gentle butterfly fashion, alighting to nectar on whatever flower caught their fancy.

In the past week, the amount Monarchs visiting my garden has exploded to numbers I haven’t seen in years–if ever.

On blooming, mostly native Texas perennials, there are 10-20 fluttering beauties sipping the good stuff from the flowers’ offerings.

It’s been many years since I’ve seen this number of Monarchs and I’d forgotten the soft sound of many butterfly wings as they whoosh from their feeding perches: joyful for the gardener and full of promise and life for the insect.

The Monarchs are nectaring on a variety of flowers, but wings-down their favorite is Frostweed, Verbesina virginica. I’m grateful that I grow a number of these tough native plants which produce blooms that Monarchs and many other pollinators love.

Monarchs are also fond of Gregg’s Mistflower, Conoclinium greggii. This charmingly fuzzy ground cover perennial blooms throughout summer, but the height of its blooming season is September through November–just in time for the Monarchs.

Interestingly, most of my close up photos are of male Monarchs. The two black dots on the hindwings indicate a male. Also, the black segment veins on their wings are thinner than those of females.

It’s not only the Monarchs that are gracing the garden, but scads of other pollinators are out in full force like this cousin-to-the-monarch, the Queen Butterfly, Danaus gilippus.

Monarchs and Queens resemble one another in their similar coloring, adorned with black veins and white dots, but Monarchs are larger than Queens. Unlike Monarchs, which we Texans only see during spring and autumn migration, Queens are familiar in Texas gardens throughout the year because they don’t migrate. It’s common that Queens are mistaken for Monarchs, but check out this great tutorial on how to tell the difference between the two.

Monarchs are fueling for their continuing migration to Mexico for winter. Other flowers they nectar from include this native Turk’s Cap, Malvaviscus arboreus var. drummondii,

…and the lush blooms of the Mexican Orchid tree, Bauhinia mexicana.

To witness the results of a successful year for this beleaguered and endangered creature is heartwarming, but it also validates my decision years ago to use mostly native plants in my garden and to always plant for the benefit of pollinators and other wildlife.

A garden is at its best when supporting life.

Bienvenue et au revoir: Wildlife Wednesday, November 2019

It’s November and my garden is still in active flowering and life giving mode.  In recent weeks I’ve said a happy howdy y’all to a resurgence of Gulf Fritillary butterfly larvae and a slightly regretful, but ultimately joyful so long ’til next spring to migrating Monarch butterflies.  That’s the wildlife gardening way: seasonal change is more than an onslaught of blooms or a conversion of foliage color.  It’s also about the cyclic lives of those dependent upon plants for their survival, as well as the fostering of a healthy environment in which wildlife will thrive.

I’m pleased to report that there are scads of Gulf FritillaryAgraulis vanillae butterfly larvae currently chowing down on my passion vine foliage.

Welcome to the passion vine buffet!

I’m fine with the dining on the leaves, but I wish the cats would leave the budding blooms alone.

Many Gulf fritillary larvae are busily munching, when earlier in the season there was a dearth of larvae activity, which you can read about in my September Wildlife Wednesday post.

I was perplexed at that time, because adult butterflies were clearly laying eggs and some caterpillars were hatching and working the vine.  But there were few caterpillars surviving to chrysalis stage and at least some were clearly parasitized during their later instars.  That the foliage wasn’t eaten as vigorously as is typical piqued my curiosity, but after some observation and reading, I concluded wasps were the culprits, preying on the caterpillars and reducing their numbers.  As with all natural cycles, the tide has apparently turned: there are significantly fewer wasps around and the Gulf Fritillaries are in ascendance.