Monday, October 24, 2016

A Summer Without Butterflies

If you've ever wondered what the world would be like without the colorful whimsy of butterflies, you sort of found out if you lived in northeast Kansas this summer. (May have been the same in other parts of Kansas and the Midwest, but I only know about northeast Kansas.)

The dearth of butterflies was quite noticeable. Several people mentioned it to me, beginning in the spring. Even the Hackberry Emperor, which rises from driveways and sidewalks in clouds as you walk or drive, was noticeably lacking. The Cabbage White Butterfly, the one whose larvae devour cabbage family plants, made few appearances (yay!?). The lavender usually teems with butterflies of one kind or another when in bloom, but went undisturbed by fluttering wings.

Only a handful of local butterflies flitted their way across my garden.
Cloudless Sulphur going in for a landing.

Then sometime in mid- to late September -- as the hummingbirds abandoned the Lady in Red Salvia in my garden and hummed southward -- a fluttering of yellow appeared at the red blossoms. Butterflies that I tentatively identified as the Cloudless Sulphur (such a poetic name)
arrived, having wandered from Texas or some other southern state in typical haphazard fashion. They don't reproduce here because our winters are too cold for larval survival, but they wander up here anyway. Incidentally, Lady in Red Salvia is native to the southern U.S. and southward. I guess this looked like home to the Cloudless Sulphur.

Strange weather here, which was too warm, too cold, too wet, too hot, too dry... bouncy, bouncy, bouncy... most likely created the remarkable dearth of butterflies this year. However, they and other insect species have been on a decline due to overuse of pesticides and loss of habitat. We are losing populations of native plant species that feed our butterfly larvae. Plant more natives. Reduce your use of pesticides. Protect wild areas. I can tell you without a doubt that a world without butterflies is less colorful, and seems less magical. So do what you can. Do as a friend of mine does and encourage each butterfly you see. And while you're at it, bless the bees, too.