Are Monarchs making a comeback?

Last week I wrote here about my observations of Monarch butterflies in my garden and the preference they have shown this year (since they've had a choice) for native milkweed over the tropical variety. After I had posted my conclusions, it later occurred to me that the reason I was able to make these observations was because I have actually had plenty of Monarchs in my garden this spring and summer. That was not the case over the past couple of years when my garden was almost Monarch-free. And that led me to a question:

Are Monarchs making a comeback?

Well, they've certainly made a comeback in my yard, but that's just anecdotal evidence.

Male Monarch on tithonia.

Female Monarch on yellow cestrum.

Monarch feeding from tropical milkweed.

They do like the cestrum.

And they do like the blossoms of the tropical milkweed.

I wonder if my observations are supported by other gardeners across the country. It will be particularly interesting to see what the data show after this season is over.

Certainly I attribute some of the Monarch traffic in my yard to the planting of native milkweeds this year. Some of the butterflies that I'm seeing now probably hatched and grew on that milkweed. Again, I have no scientific confirmation of that. It's just observation and gut-feeling.

But I do have a good feeling about these butterflies. I suspect that they are beginning to make a comeback and that all the publicity of the last couple of years about the trouble that they are in and about ways that we can help them has begun to have an effect. In short, I am more hopeful about this butterfly's future than I have been for a while. It certainly helps that I'm seeing lots of these around the garden.

Monarch egg with tiny embryo inside.

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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