Of milkweed and monarchs

This year, as most years, we have quite a few milkweed plants growing in our fields. Most appear stunted. At least, that's how they look to me, and perhaps to the neighborhood monarch butterflies. SiSi and I have been taking a look as we enjoy our mid-day walks and haven't seen any monarch eggs or caterpillars on the milkweed plants we walk past.

stunted(?) milkweed in July

Photo by J. Harrington

We confess that we avoid getting down on hands and knees so we can more thoroughly check the undersides of milkweed leaves, which is where we've most frequently seen caterpillars in the past. Are we having a slight mismatch between the arrival of monarch butterflies and the blooming of milkweed flowers? Are there not enough other wildflowers to attract more monarchs? Are our expectations at a mismatch with reality and we have as many caterpillars as the habitat can support?

monarch caterpillar on the underside of milkweed leaf

Photo by J. Harrington

I reviewed the Xerces Society's resources for managing natural lands for monarchs and couldn't readily find anything that covers East Central Minnesota, where we live. There's a booklet for the Central United States, another for the Northern Plains. Neither includes our area. Using the search function I found a booklet for the Great Lakes Area plus Pollinator Conservation in Minnesota and Wisconsin, A Regional Stakeholders Report and a report on interceding wildflowers in grasslands, which pretty well describes much of our small acreage. I'll read them over the next few days and see if it's possible to put together a realistic program for an Autumn planting activity. Wish us luck.

Milkweed

Helen Hunt Jackson

O patient creature with a peasant face, 
Burnt by the summer sun, begrimed with stains, 
And standing humbly in the dingy lanes! 
There seems a mystery in thy work and place, 
Which crowns thee with significance and grace; 
Whose is the milk that fills thy faithful veins? 
What royal nursling comes at night and drains 
Unscorned the food of the plebeian race? 
By day I mark no living thing which rests 
On thee, save butterflies of gold and brown, 
Who turn from flowers that are more fair, more sweet, 
And, crowding eagerly, sink fluttering down, 
And hang, like jewels flashing in the heat, 
Upon thy splendid rounded purple breasts.

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