Dear readers, I write to you today feeling a little bad about the column that I wrote to you last week. The squirrel afflicted with a very large botfly living in its chest tissue was interesting (from a scientific point of view), but I must admit that it was a little unsettling to look at. This was made clear to me when I happened to stumble upon the photo, which I had left open on my computer behind some other windows. I looked at it, grimaced, and then closed the photo as quickly as possible.
Well, nature isn’t always flowers and butterflies, but flowers and butterflies are positive and uplifting for the spirit. So, by way of making amends for my coverage of a somewhat brutal aspect of the natural world last week, I offer you flowers and butterflies this week.
It was Sept. 23, the first full day of autumn, and I was itching to get outside. The ridiculous weather that we’d been forced to endure had kept me cooped up all week, not to mention that I was stuck inside at work all day Monday through Friday. Saturday was a nice day, but I spent all of it sitting at my kitchen table grading papers. So, Sunday was my only real chance to get outside.
I didn’t bother getting up too early, because the days are getting shorter and the birds aren’t really singing at this point. Birds were my motivation for getting outside because I wanted to break my personal record for the number of species observed in my yard (that’s seen or heard) in the month of September. Last year, I set a record of 37 species and as I stepped out the kitchen door, I had 36 species.
My destination was the Thinking Chair. This is an Adirondack chair nestled into the southern edge of the meadow behind my house. When sitting in the Thinking Chair, I am looking to the north and can see my house up on the side of the gentle hill upon which it is built. The meadow is full of all sorts of plants that love wet conditions, because the meadow is a catch basin for the water draining off the side of the hill. This summer, the meadow has been wet most of the time.
For those who might be interested, I did finally surpass the old record of 37 species. I tied the record when I lured a family of titmice out of the forest, and I broke the record when I heard the charming little song of a ruby-crowned kinglet emanating from the same patch of forest from whence the titmice came. There was also another bird that still remains in the “confusing fall warbler” category. So the new record is now 38 species; 39 species if I can get that warbler identified.
Quite pleased with myself, I decided to mosey on back to the house and in the process of doing so, I suddenly realized that I was surrounded by flowers. The asters and goldenrods are now in bloom and my yard was bursting with an abundance of New England aster. There were several other species there as well, but the New England asters are the deepest and most sumptuous shade of purple you could ever want to see.
Literally hip deep in flowers, I emerged from my trail through the meadow and entered the patch of backyard that I maintain with a mower. Right as I reached the back of the house, I noticed that I was not the only one enjoying the asters. There, as beautiful as anything I’d seen that day, was a monarch butterfly. All thoughts of anything else left my head, and I was drawn to the butterfly like a moth to a flame.
The air was a little chilly, so the butterfly was motivated to stay in place and open up its wings to absorb some of the deliciously warm sunshine. This worked out very well for me because it made the insect extremely approachable. One photo shows the butterfly sunken into a bed of soft, yielding astern flowers, and when looking at it I am jealous to think that I may never be that comfortable.
It took me a little while to finally get a photo that allowed me to identify the sex of the particular butterfly I was looking at. In the monarch butterfly, the dorsal surface of the hindwing shows a small patch of black that is simply referred to as a “sex patch.” Male monarchs have this mark, while females do not. In some species this patch emits pheromones, but the role of the sex patch in monarchs is not really understood.
So, at the end of a successful birding adventure I came “home” to find an extra treat waiting for me at my doorstep. The photos came out so beautifully that I decided I simply had to share them with you. I ran the idea past my beautiful wife, Susan, and she agreed wholeheartedly. “You were mean to them last week, so you have to do something nice this week,” she said. I agreed. I hope your dreams are full of butterflies and flowers.
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 21 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the U.S. Forest Service and Massachusetts State Parks, and currently teaches high school biology and physics. Visit www.speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.