Beautiful Butterflies
French novelist George Sand once wrote, “Butterflies are but flowers that blew away one sunny day.”
She had a point. With their vibrant wing patterns, quiet flight, and gentle presence, one could be forgiven for mistaking butterflies with some stray petals carried off on a warm breeze. At risk of sounding maudlin, it’s hard to imagine summers without them. Unfortunately, Sand’s comparison is true in more ways than one: butterflies may be ethereal and mesmerizing as a wind-swept petal, but they are also just as vulnerable.
Globally, butterfly populations have been on the decline for decades. Studies done in the United Kingdom have found a 50% drop in numbers since 1976, with 8% of resident species now extinct. Even more depressing news can be found in the Netherlands, where 20% of resident species have now been lost.
The United States isn’t faring much better: according to NatureServe, a nonprofit dedicated to providing conservation-related data, nearly a fifth of our 800 butterfly species are currently at risk of extinction. The posterchild of these is the Monarch, whose population has seen a staggering 80% decline since monitoring efforts began in the 1990s, but other species are experiencing similar losses. The Karner Blue, Dukes’ Skipper, Mitchell’s Satyr, and Poweshiek Skipperling may be less iconic than the Monarch, but they are all of equal importance to the ecosystems—including those here in Michigan—they occupy. And all are facing similarly waning numbers.
Climate change and habitat loss are the major double whammy threats to butterflies. Old-growth forests have been cut down and replaced with young monocultures. Wetlands have been paved over for development. Meadows have been plowed over to make way for crops. The habitats that do remain are confined to narrow, scattered pockets, trampled by pedestrians, choked out and chowed down by invasive plants and pests, and in a race to adapt to the same changing climate patterns that butterflies are so sensitive to.
Enough doom and gloom. There’s some good news too.
In 2000, many leading entomologists were in agreement that the Monarch had not only been sentenced to execution but was already situated under the guillotine; all that remained was for the blade to drop. Against these unenviable odds, an international campaign was started to save the Monarch. Monarch Watch, a citizen science program, was established to involve the public in tracking monarch populations and creating butterfly-friendly habitats. Seven years later, the Monarch Joint Venture was formed to coordinate conservation efforts across the US. Fueled by the public awareness these early efforts brought, the 2010s saw a boom in citizen-led initiatives to plant milkweed and establish Monarch habitats along the butterfly’s migratory routes and breeding grounds.
This work paid off. While the guillotine continues to cast a long shadow, the sharp plummet of Monarch numbers has dwindled to a crawl. We may still be experiencing historic lows, but both eastern and western populations have largely stabilized, and recent trends have given new hope that some populations are actually on the rise.
Butterflies need our help now more than ever, but as the Monarch’s tentative comeback has shown, we can indeed help. Although climate change is in a league of its own, rebuilding habitat is a goal to which everyone can contribute. If you have a yard, consider dedicating a portion of it to growing native flowers or host plants. Those who have less space can still contribute by growing native plants in pots or windowsill planters. Providing a water source—anything from a manmade pond to a simple dish filled from the tap—can also mean the difference between life and death for pollinators. Everyone who recreates outdoors can do their part to preserve existing habitats by preventing the spread of invasive species; staying on established paths and brushing off your shoes and equipment when entering or leaving a trail are easy ways to limit the transfer of invasives.
“Butterflies are but flowers that blew away.” Maybe. But there’s still time to grab them before they’re whisked out of reach.
She had a point. With their vibrant wing patterns, quiet flight, and gentle presence, one could be forgiven for mistaking butterflies with some stray petals carried off on a warm breeze. At risk of sounding maudlin, it’s hard to imagine summers without them. Unfortunately, Sand’s comparison is true in more ways than one: butterflies may be ethereal and mesmerizing as a wind-swept petal, but they are also just as vulnerable.
Globally, butterfly populations have been on the decline for decades. Studies done in the United Kingdom have found a 50% drop in numbers since 1976, with 8% of resident species now extinct. Even more depressing news can be found in the Netherlands, where 20% of resident species have now been lost.
The United States isn’t faring much better: according to NatureServe, a nonprofit dedicated to providing conservation-related data, nearly a fifth of our 800 butterfly species are currently at risk of extinction. The posterchild of these is the Monarch, whose population has seen a staggering 80% decline since monitoring efforts began in the 1990s, but other species are experiencing similar losses. The Karner Blue, Dukes’ Skipper, Mitchell’s Satyr, and Poweshiek Skipperling may be less iconic than the Monarch, but they are all of equal importance to the ecosystems—including those here in Michigan—they occupy. And all are facing similarly waning numbers.
Climate change and habitat loss are the major double whammy threats to butterflies. Old-growth forests have been cut down and replaced with young monocultures. Wetlands have been paved over for development. Meadows have been plowed over to make way for crops. The habitats that do remain are confined to narrow, scattered pockets, trampled by pedestrians, choked out and chowed down by invasive plants and pests, and in a race to adapt to the same changing climate patterns that butterflies are so sensitive to.
Enough doom and gloom. There’s some good news too.
In 2000, many leading entomologists were in agreement that the Monarch had not only been sentenced to execution but was already situated under the guillotine; all that remained was for the blade to drop. Against these unenviable odds, an international campaign was started to save the Monarch. Monarch Watch, a citizen science program, was established to involve the public in tracking monarch populations and creating butterfly-friendly habitats. Seven years later, the Monarch Joint Venture was formed to coordinate conservation efforts across the US. Fueled by the public awareness these early efforts brought, the 2010s saw a boom in citizen-led initiatives to plant milkweed and establish Monarch habitats along the butterfly’s migratory routes and breeding grounds.
This work paid off. While the guillotine continues to cast a long shadow, the sharp plummet of Monarch numbers has dwindled to a crawl. We may still be experiencing historic lows, but both eastern and western populations have largely stabilized, and recent trends have given new hope that some populations are actually on the rise.
Butterflies need our help now more than ever, but as the Monarch’s tentative comeback has shown, we can indeed help. Although climate change is in a league of its own, rebuilding habitat is a goal to which everyone can contribute. If you have a yard, consider dedicating a portion of it to growing native flowers or host plants. Those who have less space can still contribute by growing native plants in pots or windowsill planters. Providing a water source—anything from a manmade pond to a simple dish filled from the tap—can also mean the difference between life and death for pollinators. Everyone who recreates outdoors can do their part to preserve existing habitats by preventing the spread of invasive species; staying on established paths and brushing off your shoes and equipment when entering or leaving a trail are easy ways to limit the transfer of invasives.
“Butterflies are but flowers that blew away.” Maybe. But there’s still time to grab them before they’re whisked out of reach.
First published in the Pioneer Tribune June 26, 2024