Whispered Memories: A Monarch Butterfly's Flight

When we learn something, it becomes a memory that we can access to inform future decisions and behaviors. Repeated enough, that learning becomes instinct - the accumulation of memories passed down through the generations. Instinct is the dog biting a child who tries to take its food. It's the zip of adrenaline when someone follows us down a dark alley. It's the monarch butterfly, traveling tens of thousands of miles with nothing to guide it but a whispered memory embedded in its genes.

From The Ones We Choose, a novel by Julie Clark

 

I'm a fiction reader. Give me a good novel I can get lost in, and I'm happy to leave real life behind for a short time. And it's always a pleasant surprise when the book is written so beautifully that it's almost like poetry.

I finished The Ones We Choose by Julie Clark earlier this month. It was one I'd asked the Hutchinson Public Library to order, since I'd enjoyed Clark's other novel, The Last Flight, which was already in their collection. (I recommend both of Clark's novels.)

When I saw the description of the monarch butterfly, I took a photo of the page. I knew the majestic monarch butterflies would soon arrive in our backyard for the annual pilgrimage. I loved the idea that the butterfly knows where to go based on "a whispered memory embedded in its genes."

I suppose the phrase also resonated because I read it just before we left Kansas to travel to South Dakota to see Randy's brother at the hospice. The "whispered memories" are part of a human's life journey as well. No matter the disparate choices made by siblings in adulthood, there is a "whispered memory" of a shared history.

The butterflies typically take a "breather" on the north side of trees in our farmyard. 

As Randy was planting wheat last week, he found that the shelterbelts bordering the field also had the fall equivalent of miniature runways as the orange and black flying machines seemed to practice touchdowns and takeoffs like a student pilot practicing his/her craft. (It's not a good photo, but it sort of shows how we needed an air traffic controller for all the activity.)

 

I got one shot with multiple butterflies, but there definitely wasn't overcrowding in our annual Air bnb.

 

With the north wind, the butterflies seem to have departed for warmer climes after more than a week sheltering in our tree lines. I sure hope next year's monarchs will hear that "whispered memory" that brings them back to Central Kansas.

And I hope their ancestors stop by our pastures next spring to lay some eggs in the milkweed.

Ninnescah Pasture, June 2020

Dr. Orley “Chip” Taylor has been watching the populations of this large orange butterfly for years. He heads Monarch Watch at the University of Kansas, a group that coordinates the efforts of civilians and young students to tag monarch butterflies across the United States and Canada.

Monarch butterflies are not cold hardy and cannot survive our freezing winters. However, they are one of very few insect species that can feed on milkweed.

This milkweed bloomed in our pastures this summer.

Milkweed is cold hardy, with milkweed species growing all the way into Canada. Therefore the monarch butterflies fly north each year to take advantage of this milkweed food source.

  

Each spring, the adult butterflies that have overwintered begin flying north and laying eggs on milkweed. These generations of monarchs stair-step their way until some reach Canada.
With the approach of winter, they must fly south again.

On goldenrod - From Kim's County Line - September 2016

 

Unlike small rare butterflies that may depend on a single rare flower only found on a California mountaintop, the monarch butterfly is dependent on larger numbers of flowers during migration in order to sustain its migrating population, Taylor said.

 

The monarch butterfly is a “celebrity species” that attracts the attention of citizens concerned with preserving nature, Taylor said. This means that there are many online websites with information on the monarch butterfly—some of it accurate and some inaccurate. One accurate site is Monarch Watch. 

 

My friend, Pam, who I call my resident wildlife consultant, works for Kansas Wetlands Education Center. She discovered a roost of Monarchs in cottonwoods and willows along a channel at the nature center located near Great Bend. What a sight!

Pam produced this video of the "travelers." Check it out!

 

Yesterday, Quivira National Wildlife Refuge (which is only a few miles away from our house) posted a photo of monarchs from this past weekend near the Education Center there. If only I'd known ...

Air Traffic Control

We need air traffic control on the County Line these days.

A walk through trees stirs up butterflies swooping on air currents while they dodge darting dragon flies. With the wind blowing the past two days, the migrating Monarchs look for a respite in the shelterbelts and tree lines.

At a hay auction last week, I spotted a woolly bear caterpillar. A retired farmer saw me taking photos and told me I could start my own meme. (Who knew he'd know about memes!?) And I asked him, "Aren't they supposed to be a sign that winter is coming?"

He confirmed my recollection of folklore, and a Google search when I got home brought me a little more information. Here’s the legend: The woolly bear caterpillar has 13 distinct segments of either rusty brown or black. The wider the rusty brown sections (or the more brown segments there are), the milder the coming winter will be. The more black there is, the more severe the winter.

It appears we could be in trouble. But since it's been 80-degrees-plus the past two days, winter seems eons away. And who has time to worry about that when another sign of fall is moving through my backyard? With several of my friends posting congregations of Monarchs hanging out in their trees, I know I'm not alone in having an "air bnb" in the backyard.

Monarch butterflies are not cold hardy and cannot survive our freezing winters. However, they are one of very few insect species that can feed on milkweed.

This milkweed bloomed in our pastures this summer.

Milkweed is cold hardy, with milkweed species growing all the way into Canada. The monarch butterflies fly north each year to take advantage of this milkweed food source. But they must migrate back to Mexico each winter.

 

Each spring, the adult butterflies that have overwintered begin flying north and laying eggs on milkweed. These generations of monarchs stairstep their way until some reach Canada.

Butterflies are truly miraculous.

If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies.

- Author Unknown

That's quite a reminder for this change-challenged person. They are the ultimate symbol of transformation. As George Carlin once quipped, "The caterpillar does all the work but the butterfly gets all the publicity."

I'm not sure that's true of monarch butterflies. It sounds like a lot of work to me to travel for two months, across thousands of miles, bucking wind and rain and predators. And it's all to get to a destination they've never visited before.

 

They begin the journey in their summer home in Canada and the northern regions of the U.S. They are headed for a mountain range 70 miles west of Mexico City in central Mexico, where they find the perfect habitat to survive November through March in the Oyamel forests. As many as 300 million spend the winter there. Wouldn't that be a sight to see?

They aren't like ducks and geese which migrate year after year. They will only make this journey one time. So how do they know where to go?

 

It is just another miracle of God's creation. Researchers say that it appears to be a combination of directional aids such as the magnetic pull of the earth, the position of the sun and the availability of milkweed. No matter the reason, they are a beautiful signal of fall.

As I was mowing on Friday, I almost had a mid-air collision with this beauty taking a breather in a pear tree.

"I'll just back up and let you hang out," I told my visitor. 

Mowing isn't my favorite job. But it does have its perks during Monarch migration.

Royal Monarach Airbnb

If nothing ever changed, there'd be no butterflies.

- Author Unknown

That's quite a reminder for this change-challenged person. Butterflies are the ultimate symbol of transformation. As George Carlin once quipped, "The caterpillar does all the work but the butterfly gets all the publicity."

I'm not sure that's true of monarch butterflies. It sounds like a lot of work to me to travel for two months, across thousands of miles, bucking wind and rain and predators. And it's all to get to a destination they've never visited before.

The Monarch butterflies begin the journey in their summer home in Canada and the northern regions of the U.S. They are headed for a mountain range 70 miles west of Mexico City in central Mexico, where they find the perfect habitat to survive November through March in the Oyamel forests. As many as 300 million spend the winter there. Wouldn't that be a sight to see?

It's not like the whooping cranes which migrate year after year. The butterflies will only make this journey one time. So how do they know where to go? It is just another miracle of God's creation. Researchers say that it appears to be a combination of directional aids such as the magnetic pull of the earth, the position of the sun and the availability of milkweed, where the butterflies lay their eggs.

Photo by Tami Brensing, Stafford, KS

They are a beautiful signal of fall. On Saturday night, my friend, Tami Brensing, posted this photo on Facebook as Monarchs bedded down for the night in the trees at their house.

So Randy and I wandered in our yard. We had some flitting from treetop to treetop, but our overnight accommodations must not have been right. Maybe we didn't get a good Airbnb review or something.We should definitely work on that!

 

I did manage to focus in on one butterfly, spreading its wings in the setting sun Saturday evening.

Then, another friend - Millie Dearden from Scott City - posted photos of all the butterflies in her farm yard, too.

Photo by Millie Dearden, Scott City

OK. We were officially jealous. We would love to hang out the welcome mat around here, too.

 

On Monday, we weren't booking our entire rural butterfly hostel like my friends, but we did have a few visit in one of our shelterbelts. 

Migrating butterflies are not the easiest creatures to photograph.

While they were visible to Randy and me as we walked yesterday morning, they were too far away for wonderful photos with my little camera, even using the zoom.

A little editing on the computer brought them in a little closer.
Take our word for it: The butterflies were "dancing" in the canopy of trees that line our road, so we walked with our heads to the sky and watched them flutter among the treetops.

(Not the best photo, but maybe you can get the idea.)

I finally decided I wasn't going to raise my heart rate by standing in the middle of the road looking up. The air show may not produce cardiovascular results, but is sure can lift the spirits.

However, for butterfly photography, the Kansas State Fair's Butterfly Experience was the easier option.

 

We got done cutting corn yesterday afternoon, and I had to deliver the guys to a field to pick up more equipment. (More on corn harvest later.) When I got back home, I walked in a tree line to the east of our house. It was worth the stroll.

Sometimes, the to-do list can wait.

I won't give up on capturing these allusive creatures in the wild! They are certainly persistent in their journey to their nesting grounds. But I have a stubborn streak, too. Just ask my family. On second thought ... don't.

Weekend Warriors

Mother Nature decorated for the "family reunion" in Manhattan last weekend. A field of Kansas sunflowers bloomed just north of the Bill Snyder Family Stadium, just in time for the home opener for the K-State Wildcat football team.

I made Randy take a brief time out as we were walking to a Kansas Agriculture in the Classroom gathering before the game. It's a photo shot I've always wanted to try. And though it doesn't qualify as one of my best photos of all time, it does combine two of my favorite Kansas things - sunflowers and K-State football.

It was the first time that we'd seen the latest changes to the north end of the stadium.

The band has its own space in the northeast corner, so we south end zone people were better able to keep time to the Wabash Cannonball, since the sound was pointed towards us.

There was a flyover before the game. But there's a different kind of "flyover" happening nearer to home. I missed the Monarch Mania event at Quivira National Wildlife Refuge on Saturday since we were in Manhattan. But when I saw that a record number of Monarch butterflies had been tagged on Saturday, we decided to drive up to Quivira Sunday evening. 

At first, all we could find were hundreds of the Clouded Sulphur butterflies. Most didn't linger long enough for a close-up, but I finally captured one on a wild sunflower.

As we drove toward the Little Salt Marsh, I kept my eyes scanning the skies for Monarchs. I was disappointed not to see any fluttering along the ditches. But, we got out at the marsh to listen to the water and watch the sunlight across the surface. But across the road, I found what I was looking for. With the Kansas winds blowing, some Monarchs were sheltering down in a hollow, drinking nectar from the goldenrod.

How many butterflies can you find in the photo above? I didn't see them all at first. In fact, I labeled it "5 Monarchs" when I did some photo editing. But then I looked again. (You'll have to click on the photo to make it bigger to see all of them!)

Just like my sunflower photo at the football stadium, it wasn't easy to get the shot as the goldenrod swayed in the wind and as the butterflies played hopscotch as they danced from one bloom to the next. 

Even though temperatures this week in Kansas won't seem much like fall, the Monarchs' migration does signal a move toward autumn. The Monarchs begin the journey in their summer home in Canada and the northern regions of the U.S. They are headed for a mountain range 70 miles west of Mexico City in central Mexico, where they find the perfect habitat to survive November through March in the Oyamel forests. As many as 300 million spend the winter there. Wouldn't that be a sight to see?

It's not like ducks and geese which migrate year after year. The butterflies will only make this journey one time. So how do they know where to go? It is just another miracle of God's creation. Researchers say that it appears to be a combination of directional aids such as the magnetic pull of the earth, the position of the sun and the availability of milkweed, where the butterflies lay their eggs. No matter the reason, they are a beautiful signal of fall.

We started our weekend with "weekend warriors" on the gridiron.  (Our Wildcats beat Florida Atlantic University with a score of 63-7.)

 

 We ended it with the Monarchs, who are warriors in their own rite as they make their long, arduous journey.