The Eastern monarch is in trouble, and this is the time to help (no science degree is required).

NASHVILLE – The chrysalis of a monarch butterfly is one of the most beautiful things in nature. Brilliant emerald green and sprinkled with gold, it is an exquisite jewel that contains an even more exquisite promise.

The day before a monarch emerges, its chrysalis becomes dark, almost black, but if you keep a light on, you can see the shape of the orange wings alive inside. The wings are lined with black veins like stained glass windows in a cathedral. They are still strongly bent, but hold, in miniature, the shape of the wings of an adult butterfly. At this stage, it is possible to determine the sex of the butterfly even

before it leaves the chrysalis, simply by observing the thickness of those black veins that frame the bent wings.

I have been trying to cultivate monarchs in my family room for two summers, with mixed results. Last year, some of my mail order caterpillars formed a chrysalis and none survived to become a butterfly. This year I have had better luck: after seeing a monarch laying eggs in the milkweed in my own garden, not once but twice this season, I brought some eggs inside to protect them from predators. I launched seven healthy butterflies in June and four more last week, a perfect record of survival from egg to butterfly. But I do not know how many eggs were hatched in the garden, or how many of t

hose

that were born survived. Even with their bright yellow

stripes, monarch caterpillars are adept at camouflage.

As a species, the Eastern Monarch, an iconic butterfly that migrates 3,000 miles every year, is in serious trouble. A changing climate is part of the problem, which endangers the Mexican wintering areas of the monarch and engenders extreme weather events that can destroy millions of migratory butterflies. And pesticide drift can poison caterpillars even when they are not the target pest.

The caterpillars of the monarch are never directed, in fact, because the monarchs are important pollinators that do not eat crops or damage the gardens. Their caterpillars only eat milkweed, which was once omnipresent along US roads and on the margins between fields on small farms. The greatest danger to the monarch butterfly is the disappearance of milkweed due to the destruction of habitat and the widespread use of herbicides, such as Roundup, both in commercial farms and in state highway departments.

According to the Center for Biological Diversity, which advocates adding the monarch to the federal list of endangered species, the population of the monarch of North America has fallen more than 80 percent in the last two decades. This year, the migratory population of the butterfly, about 93 million, was significantly lower than a year ago. And scientists believe that the population needs to reach at least 225 million to avoid extinction.

Raising monarchs in a climate controlled family room is a fascinating hobby, but it is not the way to save the species. The butterflies that I launched this year, even combined with the thousands and thousands of butterflies released by dedicated monarchist administrators across the country, will make little difference in a population that is still far below sustainable numbers. What the monarch needs to survive is more milkweed.

As Laurel Wamsley of NPR, the public radio network, recently reported, a new project at the Field Museum in Chicago aims to help by planting milkweed in urban areas along one of the main migration corridors of the monarch. A team led by Abigail Derby Lewis, a senior conservation ecologist at the museum, investigated possible planting sites in Austin, Texas, Kansas City, Chicago and Minneapolis-St. Pablo. They discovered something surprising: there is already a large amount of milkweed growing in the cities: 41 million plants.

And there was plenty of space to duplicate that number, particularly if more people planted milkweed in their own patios and flowerbeds. “In many ways, if you sow it, they will come,” Dr. Lewis told NPR. “It’s a wonderful, almost instantaneous, gratification that people feel and are empowered to make a difference.”

There are many varieties of milkweed, so it is best to choose the ones that suit your region and growing conditions: some varieties perform well in full sun and can tolerate drought, while others prefer swampy conditions. Perhaps against intuition, the fall is the best time to plant milkweed because the roots have time to grow in depth and settle down before the plants are stressed by the summer heat. (For information on which varieties to plant in your area and where to find seeds, see Monarch Watch, here).

I had to try several varieties before deciding for two that do not require pampering or care. Ultimately, the monarchs came and laid eggs in my garden. Each female monarch puts up to 500 eggs in its short life because, as with most insects, survival depends on waste. The caterpillars of the monarch can prey on predators, parasites and diseases, but if there is enough milkweed to support them, at least some of the caterpillars will eventually survive to form a chrysalis.

Last week, he had released 10 healthy monarchs, but he had not yet seen a butterfly emerge from its chrysalis. It is amazing to see a hatching of caterpillar eggs (the baby is so small that a magnifying glass is needed to make sure that an eclosion is really happening), and it is equally amazing to see how a mature caterpillar contorts itself when shrugging. of your skin and forms a chrysalis. But the miracle of all miracles must be the emergency itself, and it happens so quickly that it is easy to miss.

Finally, last Monday, with the last chrysalis of the year, I saw it.

What a gift it was to see a monarch butterfly pierce its shell, crawl and spread its wings. What an unspeakable gift to watch as his proboscis unfolds, to watch how his delicate legs cling to the pupated chrysalis, while the fluid fills his wings and begins to take the shape of the most recognizable butterfly in the world.

Margaret Renkl is a contributing opinion writer who covers flora, fauna, politics and culture in the southern United States.

 

source by: ecoportal.