Butterflies – Page 5

Sweetspire

A gift from my son, some years ago, has turned into quite the pollinator magnet. Virginia Sweetspire, or another common name, Tassel-white. Itea virginica. Three small bushes have grown into a lovely mound of cream colored, cascading blooms.These cascading blooms have become tantalizing lures for pollinators in the vicinity of my central Virginia mountain cabin. Whether it is a brilliant orange Fritillary or a Silver-spotted Skipper the word is out.

They have arrived, along with all manner of bee, to take advantage of the buffet. These bushes satisfy a need in the natural world, and fill my heart, and my world of Nature, with great satisfaction. Plants native to the state.

This is something that I’ve grown to appreciate, over the years. Something that I wasn’t aware of, when I began making my home here in the mountains. Concentrating on growing native plants. Something that I wish more nurseries would help more of us appreciate. For instance there is a non-native, invasive plant called, Burning Bush which is widely sold, although some eastern U.S. states are banning the importation of the plant. It breaks my heart to see Burning Bush, Euonymus alata native to Asia growing, spreading, invading. Growing where plants that are native to this area would be of more benefit.

Sweetspire would be a lovely choice, rather than an alien invasive even if your neighborhood nursery has Burning Bush on sale. With perhaps just a tiny bit of effort, you could find Virginia Sweetspire.These yummy, richly red leaves are the autumnal reward of growing Virginia Sweetspire. And winter brings more reward with exposure of the twigs and branches twigs and branches of lovely burgundy. A nice contrast to the starkness of ice and snow.

I live in the woods. I live in the mountains. I strive to keep my world as much as possible like it would have been a hundred, or more years ago, with plants that are native to this state. Sweetspire is one of the plants that is helping me stay happy up here!

Just An Inch

Wednesday night, into Thursday morning, the weather forecast was for some rain, and maybe in the mountains a little snow. Hooray for elevation! It was beginning to stick when I hit the sack and Thursday morning I was greeted with an inch of snow on the grass. Given all the talk of the rain/snow line and where I am located, I am happy to settle for an inch of snow.

This patch of snow (above), shows off my Aster seed heads. The Asters are a favorite spot for Buckeye Butterflies, Junonia coenia, when they choose to be in the area, in the fall. For some reason this gorgeous butterfly (seen below), with bright pumpkin orange accents and soft lavender eyespots, decided not to come visit my cabin this past autumn. I’ll be planting more natives and hoping that I can entice them this coming butterfly season.

Roaming around I found evidence of other happy creatures enjoying the snow, besides me. These bird tracks (below) look to me as if the little guy took a flying leap off the high dive, hunting for the spot where I left him some sunflower seeds.

Another sign of seasons past, I found snow atop what is left of another butterfly and hummingbird favorite, Bee Balm, Monarda didyma (below). Looking quite different than in the summer when it is a brilliant scarlett. It would hardly get any notice now in mid-winter, except for its rich texture.

And speaking of textures, I found my lane to be a wonderful pattern (below). Of lace? Of letters? I kept looking to see if there were actually any letters formed in the intricate designs, created by the pine needles that had fallen with the wind. I found no messages though.

Another relic of a bygone season, the empty seed pods of Butterfly Weed, Aclepias tuberosa (below). I hope that nearly all the seeds that were in these pods are now in the soil, just waiting for spring and summer to sprout up and bloom again for me, and for the butterflies, such as the Monarch that so greatly depend on the Milkweed family.

And more seed heads. This is what is left of Purple Coneflower, Echinachea purpurea (immediately below). The seeds attract many of the seed eating birds such as the Goldfinch, Carduelis tristis (seen in the second picture below), chowing down on the Black-eyed-Susan, Rudbeckia fulgida, seed heads that I left for them. I’ll wait till spring before I clean up my garden. Leaving food for the birds to enjoy during the winter attracts them to my yard, pleasing the birds and pleasing me.

Still a good bit of winter yet to come. I’m hoping for many more inches of snow!

A Good Day For Monarchs

Oh What a Day!

I think it was just a perfect day! After finding a sincere pumpkin patch and locating a large, golden orange squash that would please even the Great Pumpkin, I returned to my cabin to find a Monarch butterfly, Danaus plexippus, enjoying the many varieties of asters that I have in the yard. What a delightful surprise! During this butterfly season, from spring until now, I had only seen a grand total of two Monarch butterflies.

Mid-Summer

My first Monarch sighting was in mid-July, way up the mountain. He was flitting back and forth from one fleabane flower to another. It was another month until I saw another one, just one. I managed to get some pictures of the first one (above) but the second sighting went without photographs.

Where Are They

In other years, the Monarchs have been much more plentiful. The photo, above, was taken in June 2010 and shows a Monarch feasting on a purple coneflower. My gardens this summer have had lots of purple coneflowers blooming. It didn’t attract any Monarchs though.

Sunflowers?

It made no difference that sunflowers were around, Monarchs just weren’t there.

Gaillardia?

It made no difference that gaillardia was blooming in my garden earlier this summer. But today I saw 6 or 7 of these beautiful, rich orange and black creatures! Hooray! These butterflies are beginning their long migration, all the way to Mexico. I wish them well, finding plenty of good weather and the foods they need along the way.

**Caterpillar Of The Monarch Butterfly**

More Milkweed

I’m going to be putting more native Milkweed, Asclepias, in my garden. Milkweed is the only plant that Monarch larvae eat, and I want to make them feel at home here on my mountain! AND I will be reading, and listening to reports from scientists who study butterflies to learn why there have been so few this butterfly season.

Always — New Things!

Clasping Aster, Symphyotrichum patens — Clasping Aster, *Symphyotrichum patens*

The Joy Of Discovery

Each day as I start out on my hike there is anticipation. What new things will I find? Summer is drawing to a close and with it, the days, which earlier this season had been extremely wet, are now quite dry. The waterfall which I pass along the way is a mere trickle compared to the rushing torrent it had once been. But still there is that anticipation. What new insect will surprise me. What new flower will startle me with its sparkle of color?

Yesterday’s New Thrills

As my hike was nearing an end yesterday, as I approached my last mile, I was thinking that perhaps there would be few new “discoveries” for this season. After all how many new flowers can come about, this late in the growing season? Silly me! No sooner had those thoughts crossed my mind, when I spied an unusual color up on the side of the road, at the top of a cut that VDOT had made for water runoff. A lovely soft, grape color. What I found was a new plant! A Clasping Aster that gets its name from the fashion in which the rough textured leaves surround the stems. If you look closely at the photo above, I think you’ll be able to see what I’m talking about.

Sunshine Yellow Centers

Had I captured these photos when the flowers were just a bit earlier in their development their centers would have been a bright yellow, much like a daisy with purple petals. Along with the grape-purple petals, these blooms differ from the other asters that are so plentiful up here, in that they are a good bit larger. These blooms are about 1.25 inches across.

Gemmed Satyr, Cyllopsis gemma — Gemmed Satyr, *Cyllopsis gemma*

But Wait, There’s More!

This was yesterday, when I was thinking there would be no more surprises, right? Well, just a little bit further down the road there was a butterfly skittering around trying his best to get my attention. He was trying with all his might to get my attention but he wasn’t all that cooperative as a model. Despite that, I managed to capture him in pixels and I didn’t realize what I had captured until I got back to my studio.

New Butterfly

This fellow is a Gemmed Satyr, who gets his name because of the sparkly eye-spots on his hindwings which look like gems stones. The book that I found this fellow in, Butterflies Through Binoculars, says that this butterfly is, “small and inconspicuous.” How very true until you take a photograph of him and look carefully at the picture! New to me, and mighty cool!

A Question Mark In The Sun

Question Mark, Polygonia interrogationis — Question Mark, *Polygonia interrogationis*

Up And Out Before The Butterflies!

This morning I was up and out before the butterflies had started on their rounds of checking this flower and that. I was also working against a deadline, so my hike was, still the same route, but was completed in record time. Five miles in two hours. Okay, I won’t win any races, but I still took pictures along the way. I think I did pretty well getting back to the cabin so “quickly!”

A Picture From Two Days Ago

I went through my files to find a butterfly to post. I just felt today, though I didn’t see many, was a butterfly sort of day. I found this Question Mark, Polygonia interrogantionis, among many butterflies that I walked with two days ago. He was particularly patient with me and my camera, so I thought I’d share him with you.

Why The Name “Question Mark?”

In this second photograph, you’ll see a Question Mark at one of his favorite foods, rotting fruits and vegetables. This view, with his wings folded up, allows you to see why he is called “Question Mark” and an easy way to tell him from a similar butterfly — a Comma! See the small bright white question mark there? Okay, use your imagination! It’s there! I bet you know what that Comma has on his wings!

Brilliant Yellow Wingstem

My First Up Close Look

I got my first up close look at this brilliant yellow Wingstem while checking out a wonderful field of Sunflowers that my yoga teacher had planted at her studio. There were so many Sunflower “faces” looking toward the sun, but the Wingstem caught my eye, in a wild patch of various plants, calling out for my attention. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but took lots of photographs.

The “Wings”

The flowers of the Wingstem originate where the leaves meet the stem and flow into the “wings” on the stem.

The Leaves

The leaves of the Wingstem are rough in texture, and pointed at both ends.

What Butterflies Will Seek The Wingstem?

I’m seeing most of these flowers in the lower elevations, but being the seed gatherer that I am, I have one plant blooming in my front yard! I’m hoping I’ll get more, for the Silvery Checkerspot butterflies that use the Wingstem as a host plant and for nectaring.

My Hiking Buddies

Red Admiral, Vanessa atalanta — Red Admiral, *Vanessa atalanta*

My Buddies Are Butterflies

As I hike my mountain road this summer, I am nearly always accompanied by my buddies, the butterflies. Often they are passing by, over my shoulder as if a fellow hiker with someplace important to get to. They seem to use the dirt road as their road. These butterflies that float past me are often Eastern Tiger Swallowtails, or Spicebush Swallowtails calmly going about their business, calmly floating along.

Hackberry Emperor, Asterocampa celtis — Hackberry Emperor, *Asterocampa celtis*

The Nervous Ones

My butterfly buddies that I’m talking about today though, are the ones that seem nervous. They don’t float on air as I pass by, but flit here and there, at ground level, nearly constantly in frenetic motion.

Tawny Emperor, Asterocampa clyton — Tawny Emperor, *Asterocampa clyton*

My Models This Morning

This morning I’ve photographed a Hackberry Emperor, a Red Admiral, a Tawny Emperor and an Eastern Comma. The Eastern Commas seem to have been plentiful during the whole summer, no matter what. I noticed just recently that the Hackberry Emperors and the Tawny Emperors have become more plentiful than they had been and the Red Admiral is one that I only see from time to time. I’ll be gathering up more butterflies in pixels, so long as they cooperate!

Eastern Comma, Polygonia comma — Eastern Comma, *Polygonia comma*

Eyed Brown

I’ve been seeing a few of these, just a few. They tend to hang out in the same place day after day, so I know where to find them but they are not happy to sit long to have a portrait done. I appreciate that this Eyed Brown (Satyrodes eurydice) stayed in one place for me to capture it in pixels. ISO 200, f/5.6, 1/125, 300mm, Canon EOS Rebel XT.

The Comeback of American Chestnuts?

Chinese chestnut is a being used as a source of resistance for the American chestnut tree. This picture: monarch butterfly on Chinese chestnut flowers.

Stories From Long Ago

You might be fortunate enough to have family accounts from the older generation of gathering chestnuts, or of your granddad building a fence from chestnut trees on his farm. I don’t have those stories in my family traditions, but still I fell in love with the American chestnut tree when I heard of its history.

American chestnut burs typically have up to 3 seeds. If you’re going to handle them, it’s suggested you use leather gloves!

So Many Trees

Before 1900, the American chestnut tree (Castanea dentate) made up approximately one quarter of the trees in its range, an area of two hundred million acres. Its native range extended from Maine and Ontario, south to Florida and Alabama, and northwest through Indiana and Illinois. The tree had lived in this area for thousands of years.

The American chestnut tree was large in the forest. Historically it grew to 100 feet tall and 10 feet in diameter. This American chestnut snag was found in Madison County, Virginia.

So Quickly Gone

Late in the 1890s, as Americans began to import chestnut trees from Asia and Europe, the chestnut blight (Cryphonectria parasitica) was accidentally brought with them. The Asian and European trees had lived and evolved with this fungus for generations, but it was new and deadly to the American chestnut. The blight was an airborne fungus introduced to the trees through any number of otherwise small injuries. It spread rapidly and within 50 years of the blight’s introduction it wiped out up to three billion American chestnut trees.

The delicious American chestnut is an excellent source of vitamins, minerals and is low in fat.

Important To The Economy of Appalachia

The American chestnut was an important crop in the Appalachian Mountains. It had a superior taste compared to the Asian and European chestnut and there was great demand for it. The nuts provided a great source of income for the people of these mountains, who also fattened their cattle and hogs on the nuts under the chestnut trees. It was an important tree for wildlife, the nuts providing a reliable food for deer, black bear, and wild turkey. The tree was a valuable hardwood timber tree. It was easy to work with and highly resistant to decay. The tannins in the bark of the tree were also used to tan leather.

I was thrilled to find some small American chestnut trees growing on the mountain where I live, in central Virginia.

There Are Still A Few Around

Today in the forests of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and all over the native range of the American chestnut, every now and then you will find a small cluster of little American chestnuts trying to survive. You might think of these trees as American chestnut “bushes”. They will not grow tall and proud as the trees once did. The blight does not kill the roots, so the trees keep sending up new growth. A new sprout will shoot up, grow for a few years and die thanks to the chestnut blight that has attacked so many of these trees.

Volunteers planting American chestnut seeds at the Virginia Department of Forestry.

Hard At Work to Bring Back This Treasure

Scientists and volunteers working with The American Chestnut Foundation have been crossing American and Chinese chestnut trees then backcrossing the offspring with other American chestnuts in an attempt to develop a tree with the traits of an American and the blight resistance of a Chinese chestnut tree. There is great hope that this goal has been reached but much more research needs to be done. Only time will tell. Check back in 100 years or more.