Backyard Nature Wednesday: Monarchs of the glen...and the garden...and the byways

For the last few years, the news about the Monarch butterfly has been unrelentingly bad. A disastrous series of bad winters in the mountains where the migrants spend that season in Mexico, coupled with habitat loss across North America and the profligate use of pesticides in farming operations in the heartland of America, had reduced the butterfly's numbers to dangerously low levels. Some wondered if the charismatic insect would ever be able to recover, or would it follow the path of the Passenger Pigeon to extinction?

A massive effort was undertaken to educate the public and especially farmers and gardeners about the needs of the fragile fliers. All across the continent, people who had never heard of milkweed started planting it in their gardens. The aim was to create a "butterfly highway" right across the continent, to provide the insect with the plants that are absolutely essential to its survival. Finally this year, we are seeing the positive effects of all those efforts.

Just a few days ago, Mexican environmental officials announced that they anticipate a quadrupling of the iconic butterfly's population this year as a result of the joint efforts of Mexico, Canada, and the U.S. If we can sustain those conservation efforts, keeping up environmental regulations of logging and pesticides and continuing to plant milkweed, there seems a good chance that the growth in the population will continue.

My own anecdotal observations support the optimism of the officials. Over the last two to three years, Monarch visitors to my garden have been few and far between. Beginning in early spring this year, I began to notice an increase in traffic and I would often see eggs like this one on my milkweed plants.

I would monitor as the tiny embryos developed in those eggs.

And the eggs hatched into caterpillars like these.

And eventually those caterpillars developed the chrysalis where they would turn themselves into a beautiful butterfly.

Female Monarch on milkweed.

The fall migration of these butterflies is continuing. Not a day goes by that I don't see at least two or three of them passing through my garden. It is a heartening display of the resilience of Nature and the tenacity of life - even of such a fragile creature. If there is hope for the Monarch, perhaps there is hope for us all.

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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