One of the wonderful results of having lots of native plants
in the yard is the arrival of many colorful winged creatures. The vast majority of butterflies exclusively
use native plants on which to lay their eggs.
The caterpillars can only eat the leaves of these native plants; the
plants with which they evolved over thousands and thousands of years. While this year’s butterfly populations have
been notably low, I’ve been particularly anxious to see which of these Lepidoptera
(butterflies, moths) we’d see here this year.
Giant Swallowtail nectars on Swamp milkweed |
Giant swallowtails
have been frequent visitors to our numerous blooming plants this summer. Our bloomers are alive with all sorts of pollinators. Yet I found these Giant swallowtail ignored
all but the pale pink flowers of the Swamp milkweed. Unlike the other butterflies, this large butterfly
never rested. Even while perched on the
blossom, sipping nectar through its unfurled proboscis, it continually flapped
its wings (5 second video.) Every creature has adapted special behaviors
to help it survive and populate the next generation. I wonder why this frenetic flapping when
other butterflies don’t indulge in this action.
You have to wonder if the energy gained from the nectar is enough to offset
that consumed by the winged workout.
Perhaps the flapping enables it to make quicker getaways from would be
predators. Prickly ash is one of only a
few host plants for this butterfly’s caterpillars. When Jan Hunter identified a patch of this
thorny shrub in our woods, I never imagined that I’d really get to see such a
lively result. Now I think I should find
a Kevlar suit and check for eggs amongst the thorns.
Common blue violet |
Last year I was
pleased to see that we had several good size populations of violets growing in
the side yard. They are the native
Common Blue violet, and Downy yellow violet.
I really liked them and was particularly pleased to discover they are
native to Northwest Ohio. Many told me
to get rid of them: “They are a weed and
will take over everything.” I didn’t
care. I vowed I’d watch them and if they
threatened to knock down our house, then I would remove some of them. A little research and I found they are the
host plant for a group of butterflies, the fritillaries. I’d only seen pictures of fritillaries, never
one “in person”. When the violet
opponents would raise their “weed” issue, I’d respond that these vibrant plants
were crucial to the survival of whole group of butterflies. Surely that would quell the naysayers. This spring Jim McCormac, a legendary Ohio naturalist
and author who works for the Ohio Division of Wildlife, posted an inspiring
piece about a field of Common blue violets he discovered. (http://jimmccormac.blogspot.com/2013/04/an-amazing-field-of-purple.html
). In my quest to further validate
keeping my violets, I dutifully searched through the numerous leaves for signs
of butterfly eggs or caterpillars. All
to no avail. Well, the flowers are
reason enough to keep them. Yesterday
while diligently working at my home office, a movement outside the window caught
my attention. Ah, a butterfly. This looked a little different than the ones I’m
used to. I looked at it a little bit and
told myself to get back to work. And
what could I do anyway. My camera was in
its case, my tripod all folded up. A
little while later I noticed the butterfly was still hanging around in the
backyard. It came to gather some more
nectar from the Swamp milkweed again. Well
I should take a picture. My cell phone
camera just wouldn’t zoom in close enough to make it worthwhile. Back to work.
A few moments later I looked up and again the butterfly was sipping
away. Well darn it. I’ll be mad if I don’t make the effort. Unfold the tripod, extract the
camera from its case, take off the lens cap, put on the lens shade, and mount
the camera to the tripod. Then out the
back door I went. As predicted, the
creature was gone. Now at least I wouldn’t
be mad at myself for not trying. Hey,
there it is again. This is one thirsty little
critter. For the next half hour I chased
this unidentified butterfly around the yard.
Finally I gave up with the tripod, cranked up the camera speed and hand
held my picture machine. From Joe-pye
weed, to Swamp Milkweed, to Purple coneflower blooms I followed this tenacious
flyer. Several times when I thought I’d
scared it away for good; it would reappear and land on a blossom so close I
could see its eyeballs. Later that
night,
Unidentified butterfly on Purple coneflower |
I discarded all but a handful of the digital images and went on a quest
to identify this wondrous creature.
Without a clue as to how to go about this, I just opened to the
butterfly section of Kaufmann’s Field
Guide to Insects of North America and started paging through the
images. One really caught my attention
and I compared it to the pixels on my screen. Both pictures looked the same to me. Well I sure didn’t want to embarrass myself
by posting this online and then having to make a correction. So I called out to Wood County’s bug queen,
Sherri Doust. From the one picture I
sent, she was pretty sure of the identification, but said a yellow band on the
underside of the hind wing would nail it.
So I sent her another view and the verdict was in. It was a Great spangled fritillary whose host
plant is the oft maligned violet. Thanks
Sherri, and long live the Violets.
Great spangled fritillary nectaring on Swamp milkweed Note the yellow band between the two rows of white spots on the underside of the hind wing |