Late Bloomers Feeding the Soul and Lingering Wildlife

Late blooming plants grace our gardens and are very beneficial to wildlife. I am sharing a few of my favorites with their wild companions. Many of these photos are from one or two weeks ago. 

Hibiscus syriacus 'Rose of Sharon' is almost faded now, but a week ago many blooms were still enticing the Ruby-throated hummingbirds. The hummers left last Friday . . .  perhaps as I was writing my last post mentioning they would be leaving soon. Now I see migrating birds stopping by for a quick feed, before continuing on their way. This double Hibiscus is a great feeder for hummingbirds through most of August and into September. 

Thalictrum rochebruneanum 'Lavender Mist' is an airy plant also known as meadow-rue. Seven feet is about the height of this beauty in my north garden just across from the Rose of Sharon. The hummingbirds are often seen here perching. They will not find any food within the remaining blooms, for this member of the Ranunculaceae family is built without nectaries. The delicate flowers are caressed and pollinated by the wind.

Sweet scented Joe-Pye Weed stands proudly native and tall. This stately fellow reaches nearly seven feet and is named after a Native American called Jopi or Joe-pye, who knew of its medicinal qualities.  Eupatorium purpureum is a member of the Asteraceae family and can also be listed under Genus: Eutrochium . . .  just to confuse. This lovely plant is a division . . .  a gift from my neighbor and a welcome sight for insects and people alike.

Monarchs are happy for their late flowers.

On a windy day a butterfly can lose balance high up in the flower bracts. 

A bit lower to the ground . . . standing about three feet, when not flopping over . . .  Sedum 'Autumn Joy' is just that to butterflies and bees. Fresh Monarchs and wild honeybees fine them irresistible. 

Honeybees do get lost in their sipping frenzy in this landscape of florets . . . losing all sense of propriety.

Hosta Honey Bells or Royal Standard is still ringing her last bells and the hummers . . . 

go in for her chimes.

'Miss Canada' is truly not a late bloomer . . . more an early bloomer out of season, that will be a nectar treat to migrating hummingbirds. Newly emerging butterflies will get a late spring sweet sip they will not normally have in near early fall. It is the oddest thing . . . how a plant or shrub decides to send out one last bloom . . . a beacon for wildlife. 

Whatever her reasons Lilac 'Miss Canada' is feeding my soul too. There will be a long wait through winter, for her other blooms to exhale into spring air. Just as I was writing this text, I noted a hummer in the hostas and knew it would find the lilac . . . so I to the window went and sure enough . . . I will have a photo to show you soon. 

Impatiens glandulifera Royal is a fave of the hummingbirds and blooms well into fall, making it a great source of nectar for migrating hummers.  Also called 'Policeman's helmet' it is considered 'detrimental' as each seed pod will let loose up to eight hundred seeds. It can reach up to six feet offering hundreds of orchid like flowers in varying rose pink tones. It does not do too well in drought conditions. I will be lucky to get many plants next year.

Hummingbirds love the nectar deep inside the dangling blooms. 

Ironweed . . .  Vernonia altissima grew secretly from tossed seeds collected from our food co-op. Her bright purple sang out to me one day and I was puzzled until remembering loosely planting the seeds between clumps of iris. She will look lovely along side Joe-pye and offer late nectar to migrating Monarchs and other butterflies. Another member of the Aster family and a lovely addition to the middle meadow garden, where she may tower up to ten feet with iron strong stems. A beautiful native plant with many medicinal properties. I would like to think that the nectar too offers different properties from plant to plant enriching the lives of the visitors. Diversity in diet is a plus.

Young seedlings did not last a full June day, for the rabbits decided Verbena bonariensis . . .  were great to chew . . . though some were able to make a comeback. Fifty of these lovelies were planted near Joe-pye Weed and Rudbeckia Herbstonne, for I knew butterflies were keen to sip and sit upon the 'purpletop'.  Rabbits!!  

What do they know or care of plans . . . of how the Verbena would complement the stature of these two late bloomers and feed countless Fritillaries and Aphrodites up until frost. 

Salvia was spared in the terrace garden . . . it seems rabbits do not find it so delectable as this hummer clearly does. This little fellow has departed . . . he will be missed. Flower Hill Farm was his world for his beginning life and I hope he will return next spring having had many adventures under his wings and iridescent green.

Weigela florida 'The Ghost' is contributing a few late flowers for the hummers. Her foliage turns a pale yellow green late summer making the red flowers more striking reaching out from the ghostly leaves. She loves full sun and will grow to about five feet tall. 

Buddleia never disappoints on her promise of continuos blooms.

A Great Spangled Fritillary enjoys dipping into the long purple tubes. 

Tall and lanky Rudbeckia Herbstonne is new to my garden this year . . . what the rabbits did not eat is still standing 9 feet tall and I believe she will make it! A welcome newcomer offering late summer feasts.  Asters and swaths of goldenrod are abloom in the fields surrounding the gardens.  All these plants and shrubs keep the gardens alive with activity from visiting butterflies, birds and bees. Their colors and forms raise the spirits, as the days grow darker and the chill of fall spreads about the land. These are my successes for now and I plan on continuing to add more plants and shrubs each year to extend the flowering season. 

Mornings Glory Skywatch

Good Glorious Morning!

Another dreamy dawn bursts forth and paints the sky.

Full-bodied warmth of fiery sun enlivens a hillside.

A survivor of the terrace garden . . .  Ipomoea Convolvulaceae . . .  better known and more easily pronounced as 'Morning Glory' . . .  greets each dawn with a radiant starry unfurling. Safely contained in a taller planter rabbits are unable to reach . . .  she is not so finicky as to the weather and will open her fresh, colorful corolla of dazzling hues, with the first brushstrokes of light, be it bright or misty drizzle . . .  only to lose her splendor before midday. 

Morning Glories twine their way into our lives and offer us heavenly blues. 

Fleeting trumpets cry out to the gardens and any passersby "Come quickly . . .  for my glory will not last!"

This young male Ruby-throated Hummingbird will happily accommodate . . . ("Excuse me!  Sticking one's tongue out at the camera might be misunderstood . . . Oh, of course you meant no disrespect . . . it is good to brush the tongue too!") 

Once this little hummers early morning hygiene is complete, he will hover and discover the cool glory of morning within her inner petals and wells of sweetness. Perhaps he enjoys her 'psychoactive properties' . . . as long as there is no upset to his balance and judgement. No need to worry . . .  for those Heavenly Blue alkaloids . . . I would imagine . . .  are found in the roots. 

A Crabapple branch works like dental floss I guess. Time too will take these precious solitary jewels away . . . they will fly solo as far as Panama soon . . . taking a non stop eighteen hour (longer with inclement weather) flight across the Gulf of Mexico. Many will choose to fly over land going through Texas down into Mexico. I will treasure the few remaining days the Ruby-throats grace the gardens. A singular sparkle will be missing in the gardens and in my heart . . .  until their return migration next spring. The Morning Glories will continue blooming until frost. They too will miss the particular tickle . . .  only a hummingbird can offer. 

Monarch Marveler Momentous Migration

Epilogue to The Monarch Butterfly Metamorphosis

In my last post I share the incredible emergence of the Monarch butterfly from its chrysalis. We witnessed the entire metamorphosis of the Monarch butterfly in the last four posts. I want to thank you all for sharing this odyssey with me . . .  from egg to butterfly. Your generous comments and support mean a great deal to me. Thank You! My last caterpillar is beginning to spin his or her silk button and will become a chrysalis tomorrow. I was happy to release yet another perfect male into the garden a few hours ago. Now there are other Monarch butterflies in the gardens and fields fueling up for their marvelous migration to Mexico. 

It is said that butterflies link us to spirits . . . they are messengers from souls. The word for butterfly in French is papillon, in Spanish its mariposa, in Hebrew it is parpar, in Japanese cho cho and the ancient Greeks word for soul . . .  psyche . . .  was the same for butterfly. Psyche “an emblem of the immortal soul by reason of its passing through a kind of death in the pupa (youth) stage and a resurrection in the adult.”  The pupa or chrysalis is somewhat mummy like from one perspective. Metamorphosis simply by its being allows for a creature to live in two different environments. A mere insect . . .  the order LEPIDOPTERA . . .  from Greek lepis . . .  for scale and pteron . . .  for wing. Scale covered wings with pigments. Rudolf Steiner believed they were once part of flowers . . .  petals/wings . . .  sensors or antennae/stamens set free. All butterflies are surely as beautiful as any bloom and animate our gardens with their colorful wings and antics. When we chance to see a butterfly, there is a feeling of magic and awe about. The Monarch or Danaus plexippus has a great sense of its wings. It sails through layers of sky seemingly carefree with determination and great skill. Monarch butterflies are great navigators. They float and glide in between fluttering. This aerial mastery helps the butterfly accomplish its long migration.

Here a female Monarch is sunning . . . note the wider veins and the end of her abdomen being different from the dapper male below. 

The male can be recognized also by the teeny black sacs on both hindwings . . . these sacs or pouches are filled with scent scales. Both male and female butterflies emerging now will not have fully developed sexual parts. They need all their reserves for flying south . . . no time for distractions or diversions. Somehow they will not become fully developed until spring, when the temperatures in Mexico warm and they begin their reverse migration towards Texas, where they will lay eggs and die. It will take four or five generations for the Monarchs to reach Flower Hill Farm next summer.

These late bloomers will live for up to six or eight months, where the earlier spring and summer Monarchs mate and live for only two to six weeks. Here a later Monarchs sips rich food from Joe-Pye Weed, before flying off on her long arduous journey to her overwintering sites in Mexico. She will join other Monarch butterflies along the way feeding and resting overnight in roosts or clusters high in trees. You might be lucky enough to see one of these! Hundreds and thousands of butterflies hanging like leaves from treetops. 

Several years ago I too took flight in to Mexico in order to see the amazing Monarch colonies high up in the Sierra Campanario and Sierra Chincua. My southern flight was much easier and quicker than that of the Monarch Butterfly's nearly 3,000 mile journey. Once there and out of Mexico City, we had a friendly driver, who drove the group up the bumpy and steep roads, to where we would begin our hike towards the overwintering colonies. 

The landscape is lovely and the people warm and friendly. The buildings above hold merchandise for tourists visiting the butterfly colonies and help the indigenous peoples. The colonies are under continued assault from illegal logging. This post is not intended to give you all the information on the colonies but more my observations. You can learn a great deal here.

After purchasing a hat and T-shirt we began our trek up the mountain. 

We visited two colonies and each had a unique path towards our goal. Sierra Campanario I believe was far less difficult a climb. 

There were not as many butterflies there that year. Still I was excited to see these clusters and wondered if any of the hundred or so I raised that year may have made it to this destination. I must share one detail about arriving near the colonies. There were so many butterflies suddenly flying down the mountain side that the bus carrying our group could only drive about five miles an hour so as not to injure any butterflies. The first place we would see butterflies in large numbers was along the road. For some reason I just wanted to experience the moment without my 35 Mm Pentax camera. I did regret it! Others in the group were bird watching and I continue walking on hoping to see what our guide had described as "Monarchs streaming down the mountainside." After a few minutes walk I did indeed see just that! Thousands of Monarch butterflies flying down the mountainside in front of me like a stream and turning just before where I stood along a wide dirt path, then turning off to the left about twenty feet ahead. It was amazing and I was all alone. I so wanted to share this moment but did not want to leave. I kept looking back to see if any of the others were coming. Someone finally did come, but it was sadly to tell me the others were waiting and that we must leave. I thought we should have the others come to see this amazing sight. The colorful ribbon just kept flowing . . . beautiful sunlit shimmering orange and black with white dots . . . a narrow river of butterflies! Diane had to coax me away nearly in tears. This as it turns out was the most magical moment of the entire trip for me . . . in terms of butterflies that is. I would not be as close to the Monarchs again on this tour. 

Seeing these clusters was magical and my camera could not capture the remarkable beauty of the butterflies hanging like leaves in the fir forest. 

We did not arrive up in the colony until late in the day . . .  the light was not right for capturing these beautiful butterfly groups. 

The next day we began  hiking up Sierra Chincua to a larger colony. It was a very difficult climb and took over an hour, if I remember correctly. A stunning hike with needed rest stops along the way. Hiking through the forest closer to the colony, we saw many butterflies lit up by the sun, as they danced through the fir trees. Hundreds were climbing up the bark of the fir trees, but my photos of those were lost. There was dappled light in the colony when we finally arrive. I was breathless in more ways than one upon seeing the thousands of butterflies hanging in the trees. Streamers hanging on . . .  one butterfly to another . . . those tiny hooks on the feet helping them cling to one another . . . building a mass of butterfly leaves that seem to belong to the trees. 

The images are poor but they were mine . . . nothing like the wonderful shots in National Geographic. I did not even have a telephoto lens. I realized too late how ill prepared I was to capture these. Still the experience of being there in the moment was fabulous. Our guide had to persuade me it was time to leave . . . for there was never enough time for me. Next time I will be sure to arrange to have more time at the actual colonies. Of course I understand that tourist can create problems for the Monarchs. We had to stay rather faraway from the large canopy of butterflies and watch carefully where we stepped.

While walking away, I took these tragic photos of so many thousands of butterflies, who made the incredible migration only to die in the end. Mosaic carpets of dry Monarchs were strewn about the forrest floor. Winters can be cold and due to the illegal logging going on to this day, much of the insulation to the colonies is being lost. Cold winds and frosts and sometimes heavy snow will kill a portion of the colony each year. Monarchs are not considered an endangered group but their overwintering sites are. If you would like to learn more and help you might like to visit WWF and Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary Foundation .

A streamlet reflects the azure blue sky these Monarchs will never soar in again. Utterly beautiful and heartbreaking. 

Our guide Bill Calvert leads me out of the forest to catch up with the other hikers. It would have been a long and hard trek back down if not for these . . . 

Ponies! We arrived too late to get help from them going up. Our young friendly leader had been helping folks up and down the mountain since age six, along with his father I am sure. He is very gentle with the ponies and I was very grateful for their carrying me down the mountain. 

Bill took us to many spectacular restaurants with very kind staff and delicious food. It was a great trip and extraordinary to see where the Monarch butterflies overwinter.

 I will close this series of posts with a story about one Monarch butterfly I knew, who could not fly. I called her Flutterbye and she and I were housemates for six months. There was a slight error in one of the chrysalises that year. Right where the antennae forms are waiting . . . there was an incomplete drying leaving an sliver of an opening in the chrysalis. I was not sure if the butterfly would make it. A female did emerge right before I was headed to NYC, for a few days visit. I noticed one of her antennae was crooked but did not know what the consequences would be for the butterfly. I took her out into the gardens, after her wings were dry and waited for her to take flight from my finger. She did try but fell to the ground over and again and then tried to fly from plant and shrub but continuously fell to the ground. If I had left her she would have fallen prey to some chipmunk or squirrel. 

I decided I would care for my flight challenged butterfly and so we began our life together. Not having any knowledge of how to do this . . . I immediately call the expert Dr. Lincoln Brower, who was so kind and helpful. I had to keep the house on the cooler side so that she would not try to fly and become flustered from fluttering helplessly. Each morning I began the day by holding her in my hand and feeding her honey water. It was diluted enough not to cause her proboscis to seal. I did towards the end have to unwind it so that she could sip the home made nectar . . . for she became too weak. Flutterbye would hang out on my shoulder while I read and we had a quiet contemplative winter together. I know she was sick about not being able to fly . . . she was intended for flight. I tried to comfort her with plants and a loving environment. She lived nearly a full life, if but a sheltered and imprisoned one. 

During those six months I came to understand more about the Monarch butterfly through studying Flutterbye's behavior. I wish she could have flown to Mexico . . . that she might have a normal butterfly life . . . if that was not her fate, I am glad that she was with me. She did ride along with me to NYC and when we walked past the doorman he excitedly asked "Is that a butterfly!?" She delighted many in her brief life! Perhaps seeing a butterfly so closely opened other hearts and imaginations towards the plight of these incredible insects.