Waiting for the monarchs

First monarch of the season, slurping on joe pye weed.

We've been waiting and waiting and waiting for the monarchs to show up. Finally we spotted this guy, sipping on the joe pye weed in our backyard--but he's only going to help us indirectly to get what we're after: EGGS. We know he's a male by the pair of dots on his hind wings:

Tell-tale spots on lower (hind) wings.

Don't get me wrong--we greeted him with the kind of frenzied exuberance usually reserved for Justin Bieber or the Pope. But we won't be in business till somebody starts laying some eggs around here. That's because one of our favorite summer projects is raising monarch butterflies, not from a mail-order kit, but from eggs we collect from milkweed plants in our yard. We bring them into our kitchen to protect them from being eaten, or parasitized by certain flies and wasps--common fates for monarchs left to their own devices outside. (Normally I'd say that's just nature's way, so let it be. We step in because monarchs need a boost--see below.) We feed them milkweed leaves till they pupate (i.e. make their jewel-like chrysalis of pearly green flecked with gold), which we let them do pretty much wherever they choose. They've picked some weird places--the ceiling, the coffee maker, the bottom of the cereal cabinet...

And then after a week or so, they emerge, which is a spectacle as close to magic as anything I've ever seen.

Drying its wings, clinging to its now-empty
chrysalis on the wall by the kitchen sink.

Just about everything I know about raising monarchs, I learned from taking a class with one of my favorite grass-roots conservation groups, the Audubon Society of Northern Virginia. Check 'em out, or your own local Audubon chapter--they have lots of cool workshops and field trips to help you discover your friendly neighborhood wildlife. 

I never really understood what John Lennon meant by "instant karma"; it should mean immediate payoff for some good deed. Like THAT ever happens. But I came home from the Audubon monarch workshop and as I opened the door to let my dog out, what to my wondering eyes should appear but my very first monarch, in my very own yard, hovering around the milkweed I'd planted that spring. Like a complete freak, I tore over there and lay down on the ground and watched in a spellbound stupor as this exquisite creature squirted out 33 eggs (yes, I counted) right there in front of me.

an egg about to hatch...

The reason learning to raise monarchs qualifies as a "good deed" is that monarch populations are declining, and regular people like you and me (I almost said normal but I'm not sure *I* qualify) can do our small part to  give them a boost. For one thing, the oyamel fir forests where monarchs spend the winter are Mexico's most endangered forest type; only 2% of their original cover remains. But that's just part of the story. Monarch butterflies only lay eggs on milkweed, and monarch caterpillars only eat milkweed. And milkweed is disappearing because of herbicide use in agricultural areas, suburban sprawl, and other factors. People don't tend to think of it as a gardening gem--but look! It IS!

This is swamp milkweed.
Butterfly weed  is a more common species;
you can get seeds at Lowes or Home Depot.

So do the monarchs a favor and plant some milkweed in your yard. And then wait for the fun to begin. When we finally have eggs, I'll have more to say. I'm looking forward to more of THIS!

Just emerged--and some still chillin' in their chrysalises...

Getting up the nerve to fly away to Mexico.