butterflies Archives ~ Rambling ranger

March 3, 2022

Sanctuary

(1) – a place of refuge and protection

(2) – a refuge for wildlife where predators are controlled and hunting is illegal.

(3) – a holy place

Pacific Grove Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary

(1) – All of the above

I kept putting off my visit. Why should I seek out a place that would only depress me? The last time I was there I only saw 3 or 4, and I had to use binoculars even to find the dismal few. I heard a rumor that they were coming back. But I also heard that last year none returned at all.

Since it was my last week in Pacific Grove, and the sanctuary was close by, I decided to bite the bullet and check it out. I’m glad I did.

I had only taken a few steps into the refuge when the passion and the drama took place right before my eyes, practically at my feet. They were fluttering by, flirting, chasing each other when things suddenly got serious. He slammed her to the ground. They wrestled. They danced. Then he brought their lovemaking to an entirely new level. He clasped her close. She went limp in his arms. He carried her high into the sky, up to the very tops of the trees.

When it comes to sexual endurance, the Monarch Butterflies put humans to shame. A pair of Monarchs will mate for up to 15 hours! They start mid-afternoon and finish shortly after sunrise. Afterwards, the female flies off to find a milkweed plant to lay her eggs on. In the two weeks or so that she has left to live, the female Monarch will repeat that act again and again.

In a week when the world situation is looking especially grim, it sure is nice to be able to share some good news. The Monarch Butterflies seem to be making a bit of a comeback.

I’ve written before about the demise of the Monarchs. The last time I visited the Pacific Grove Sanctuary, California’s Monarchs had plummeted to less than 1% of their former population. Numbers had dropped from 4.5 MILLION in the 1980s to 28,429 as of January 2019.

Last year there were no butterflies at all found in the Pacific Grove Sanctuary, and less than 2,000 counted in all of California.

This year there were about 14,000 in Pacific Grove alone and just over 247,000 in the total count for the California coast. Good news!

Perhaps some of our actions have helped the Monarch. Pacific Grove is a town that takes safeguarding the butterflies seriously. In this town, messing with a Monarch carries a $1,000 fine! The city has planted butterfly-friendly plants in its parks and along the Coastal Trail. Many residents have also planted butterfly-friendly plants, avoided RoundUp, and eaten more organic food since hearing about the Monarch’s plight.

Action is even beginning to take place on the federal level. There were two bills for butterfly conservation included in the $1 trillion infrastructure package that passed in November. These Acts, the Monarch and Pollinator Highway Act and the Monarch Action, Recovery, and Conservation of Habitat Act, will provide grants for replacing invasive species with native pollinator-friendly plants on highway roadsides and medians. They will also charge highway crews with being mindful about when they mow, avoiding mowing during key times in the Monarch migration.

The resurgence of butterfly numbers this year is wonderful news. But it’s not really a comeback, it’s more of a reprieve. We dodged a bullet this time, but 250,000 is a drop in the bucket compared to the 4.5 million found in earlier years. Monarch Butterflies still face the looming threats of pesticides, habitat destruction and climate change. They still need our help to grow back into a healthy, thriving population.

Help the Monarchs. Eat organic. Don’t use pesticides. Please do what you can to provide sanctuary, and help the Monarch butterflies survive.

Thank you, Karina of Murtagh’s Meadow, for providing this week’s Lens-Artists Photography Challenge, A Special Place.

January 22, 2021January 24, 2021

Biodiversity is an Emotional Issue

When it comes to biodiversity, my feelings run through the full gamut of emotions.

Happiness

Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge — Biodiverse landscapes make us happy.

Being close to nature has been a priority of mine for nearly my whole adult life. From my first backpacking trip on, I realized that immersing myself in landscapes teeming with life – many different forms of life interacting easily and naturally with each other – kept me healthy, happy and sane. Knowing that I am just a piece of a very big puzzle, a cog in the unbelievably complex wheel of the Universe, helps me to regain a proper perspective when I get overwhelmed by challenges that seem too great for me to handle. It’s really not all about me; my problems are so inconsequential when I am surrounded by the real Big Picture.

I’m not alone. It has been acknowledged by cultures all over the globe that healthy, thriving ecosystems are necessary for our physical, mental, and spiritual health. Variety IS the spice of life.

Gratitude

Death Valley Monkeyflower — Plant biodiversity is incredibly important in our lives.

Every day I am grateful for the complexity of life. Biodiversity is responsible for all the choices we have in the foods we can eat. It is responsible for life-saving medicines, with more being discovered all the time. Lack of biodiversity has been connected to many disease outbreaks. Biodiversity is accountable for resiliency and flexibility in the face of dramatic changes to our planet. It is necessary for the very air we breathe and water we drink.

As a park ranger, biodiversity is essential to my employment. It’s probably the main reason people visit national parks. But you don’t have to work in the tourism industry to be economically dependent on biodiversity. According to the Living Planet Index, people derive approximately $125 trillion of value from natural ecosystems each year. Gotta be grateful for that.

Concern

We are losing our biodiversity at an astonishing rate, a reason for great concern. Species extinctions currently vary between 100 and 10,000 times the background extinction rate of one to five extinctions a year over the history of the planet. That doesn’t even get into the decline in populations of many species not yet in danger of extinction. The average population size of vertebrate species has declined by 68 percent from 1970-2016. Since biodiversity is essential to our survival, we should all be concerned.

Sadness

Monarch Butterflies — The Western Monarch Butterfly population is down more than 99% from the 1980s count.

Witnessing this decline breaks my heart. It makes me very sad when I read about mass die-offs of seabirds in western Alaska or see with my very own eyes the decline of a species like the Monarch Butterfly.

Fear

Denali National Park — After a lengthy court battle, grizzly bears are still covered by the Endangered Species Act in the contiguous US.

As I watch ecosystems crash one by one, as we continue to do little to nothing to address this issue, I feel fear. I fear for our quality of life and our very survival as a species as we continue to degrade the resources we need to depend on, both now and in the future.

Guilt

Wramgell St. Elias national Park & Preserve — Like most of us, I need to make more conscious choices.

I’m an American. I’m guilty. It’s ridiculous how much we Americans contribute to the loss of habitat and the loss of biodiversity. All because we have been trained to constantly want more, more, more, just to keep our consumer-driven culture intact.

I didn’t get a driver’s license until I was 50. I didn’t want to become part of the problem. But I am part of the problem. I’ve driven a couple of hundred thousand miles since then.

I’m not much of a consumer for an American. I’m not one of those getting Amazon packages every day. I seldom buy something unless I need it. But I don’t always buy organic or make wise choices about eating locally. Pesticides, herbicides, and industrial farming methods are some of the main drivers behind the loss of biodiversity. Transportation of foodstuffs from one part of the world to destinations tens of thousands of miles away is an incredible waste of our planet’s resources. I could do better. We all could do better.

Anger

graffiti on redwood tree — Disrespect for living things makes me angry.

Although I feel guilt, I feel a lot more anger. I feel angry at everyone that disrespects nature and the diversity of life. The thoughtlessness of an individual vandalizing or destroying a tree or a flower can make me mad, but the heartlessness of powerful corporations and individuals who put short-term profit before the long-term health of the planet makes me rage.

Despair

Sea Star and hermit crabs — Hermit Crabs scavenging a dead sea star

I’ve felt a lot of despair over the last 4 years as I’ve watched all the hard-won environmental reforms of the previous 50 years go by the wayside. I’ve felt despair as I’ve had to stand by while the Trump administration gutted the Endangered Species Act and the Migratory Bird Treaty Act, two key pieces of legislation for the protection of biodiversity.

It can be overwhelming when the reality of the situation really sinks in. When I walk a beach in Olympic National Park that no longer supports starfish, or think of the reefs in the Florida Keys that I used to snorkel that are now white, dead skeletons, I feel despair.

Joy

But it’s not all doom and gloom. We humans have some amazing capabilities. We can turn things around when we really try. There are success stories out there. There are species that have been brought back from the edge of extinction and are now thriving.

Elephant seals are one of those species. So are sea otters. So are bison. They’re out there, those examples of times when we’ve corrected the mistakes we’ve made. I feel great joy when I see these success stories.

Hope

Yellowstone National Park — American Bison have come back from the brink of extinction.

“With unity, we can do great things.” – Joseph R. Biden

Although my emotions run the whole gamut, the main emotion I am feeling right now when it comes to biodiversity is hope. A new day is dawning. We have an opportunity right now to turn things around and build a better world for the future, a world where biodiversity matters. But to make this happen, we need to change our mindsets. Instead of asking ourselves, “What will best benefit me?”, we need to ask ourselves, “What will best benefit us, all of us? What policies can we enact that will be good for not just the short-term, but for the long-term health of our Mother the Earth?” We need to take a good look at how we do things and figure out better ways to do them, ways that protect biodiversity and lead to a cleaner, greener planet. We have a chance, and we need to act on it. Now.

“It’s time for boldness because there’s so much to do.” – Joseph R. Biden

Thank you to Patti of Pilotfishblog for this week’s Lens-Artists Photo Challenge theme, Emotions.

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park & Preserve — Biodiversity is good for all of us!

Answers to last week’s quiz – 1) Purple Cress, alpine 2) Purple Mat, desert 3) Bristly Langlosia, desert 4) Spring Beauty, alpine 5) Bigelow Mimulus, desert

February 9, 2019

Witnessing the Demise of a Species

Twelve years ago I visited the butterfly sanctuary in Pismo Beach, California. I’d never seen anything like it. Every tree in the grove was literally dripping with butterflies, streaming down in long garlands, camouflaged as dead leaves. It took a moment to see them, then. Aha! Wow! There are a kajillion butterflies here!

I went back to Pismo Beach yesterday. I saw maybe a dozen butterflies flitting around. No long streaming garlands. Hardly any butterflies at all.

Pismo Beach Butterfly Sanctuary — How I wish I could mend these broken wings!

I walked out the gateway from the grove, and then I saw a few butterflies. I watched one float down to the highway, fluttering in the breeze like a leaf in autumn. There were a couple of others in the road, three all together.

A car drove by, the wind from its wake bashing and battering the unfortunate creatures. One Monarch valiantly struggled to crawl out of the gutter, its tattered wings damaged beyond all repair.

With tears in my eyes, I coaxed it onto my finger, and carried it over to the nearby bushes. At least let the poor thing die peacefully, on a bed of leaves instead of in the cold, hard, red-painted gutter.

It’s hard to witness the extinction of a species.

Sweet Spring Nature Reserve Los Osos, CA — Eucalyptus flowers and fruit

The Western Monarch Butterfly population is down more than 99% from the 1980s count. This year, in the entire state of California, there are only 28,000. The Xerces Society (the bug people) estimate 30,000 as the tipping point for extinction. Numbers have dropped from 4.5 MILLION in the 1980s to 28,429 as of January 2019.

I first became aware of the Monarch tragedy around Christmas, when I was housesitting in Goleta, CA. Although I was lucky enough to see a few clumps of butterflies hanging from the trees, I learned that their numbers were down dramatically.

It really hit home for me when I was in Monterey in January and visited the sanctuary in Pacific Grove. I had visited that site, also, a dozen years ago on my journey up the California Coast. I must admit I almost took it for granted, there were so many butterflies roosting in the trees then.

I visited this year, and could count them on my fingers.

I admit I’m probably not the best at finding those clumps of butterflies, hanging like ripe fruit from the high branches of tall trees. They camouflage pretty well. Binoculars are helpful. Docents and naturalists who have been studying the insects are much better than I am at spotting them. But when I was in Pacific Grove, one of these experts had a spotting scope out, teaching a group of schoolchildren. He couldn’t find them, either. The ones I did see were flying too high for me to photograph any of them.

Pacific Grove has made a business out of the butterflies, advertising their town as “Butterfly Town USA” on big signs as you enter the village. Gonna have to rethink that ad campaign.

Walking the beaches of Pacific Grove I found a smooth, polished piece of bone, a vertebra from a fish. Its shape was an exact replica of a butterfly’s form, an apt souvenir from a lovely town where I sadly had the misfortune to witness ecosystems crashing on both land and sea. Death and beauty inextricably entwined.

Finding the last butterflies became a sort of pilgrimage for me. I spent a day searching out the sanctuaries near San Luis Obispo. First I went to Morro Bay State Park. A population lives in the eucalyptus next to the golf course. I spoke with an employee at the park museum. He recounted one time when he was golfing and saw clouds of thousands of butterflies overhead, migrating to these trees, one of those magic moments you remember for a lifetime. No more. I walked the trails and could not spot even one.

A few miles away was the Sweet Springs Preserve in Los Osos. This is an Audubon Important Bird Area and a beautiful little park. There were lots of birds. I watched a KIngfisher flash by, quick as a blink, a half dozen times, but I only saw one butterfly.

Pismo Beach was next. I cried.

Moving on, Oceano Beach was supposed to have a population. This place was considered a good photo op, as the Monarchs winter in the Monterey Cypress, only 15 feet above the ground.. No more.

There’s no one cause for this drastic drop in the population. Herbicides are a biggie, though. Probably the biggest factor in the Monarch catastrophe is Round-Up. Seeds genetically engineered to withstand the herbicide allow farmers to lay it abundantly on their fields, killing off the milkweed that the Monarchs depend on for their sustenance. Even if it hasn’t completely killed the milkweed, the poisons concentrate in the insects as they eat it. Pesticides take on a share, too. They don’t differentiate between an agricultural pest and a Monarch caterpillar.

Habitat destruction and fragmentation is another important factor. We ARE talking about the California coast, after all, and creeping urbanization continues to make it’s way up the coast. While in Guadalupe, in the heart of the Monarch’s wintering range, I witnessed an entire fleet of bulldozers, mowing down eucalyptus trees, building a new subdivision of thousands of homes, basically a new city.

Ellwood Butterfly Reserve, Goleta, CA — Butterflies in Goleta

New studies show that air pollution takes its toll. The milkweed’s nutrients are depleted by the polluted air. The caterpillars feed on the milkweed but don’t get the nutrition they need.

Climate change figures into this perfect storm, too. Many eucalyptus trees have been unable to withstand the effects of California’s ongoing drought. In the Goleta grove, 1260 of the 6,000 trees have died from the drought. That’s about 20%.

All the causes for this butterfly extinction are human causes.

Ellwood Mesa Butterfly Grove, Goleta CA — Wintering Monarchs

Listening to the responses of the other visitors was an enlightening insight into our human nature. “It must be a bad year.” “They went to Mexico this year.” “it must be too cold. They don’t like cold.” “Maybe we came too late in the season, they’re already gone.”

Cassandra that I am, I told them, “No. It’s bigger than that. They’re gone. They’re going extinct.” I gave them the numbers. Very few of the people I talked to had even heard of the Monarch’s tragedy.

There’s a disconnect for us between our actions and the consequences. We don’t want to take responsibility. I’m as guilty as anyone else. Sometimes I would buy organic, but I often let my budget dictate my choices. After witnessing the results of my actions, I will be buying organic from now on.

Monarch butterflies are fragile. They really need our help. The Xerces Society has a plan to try to save the Monarchs. It’s time to take responsibility for the consequences of our actions. We all need to do our share. Eat organic. If you live anywhere in the contiguous United States, where Monarchs breed and lay their eggs, plant milkweed. Boycott RoundUp. Don’t use pesticides. Build a bat box instead. Hopefully it’s not too late. Let’s try to save the Monarchs if we can.

January 8, 2019January 8, 2019

Boulder on the Beach – Urban Wildlife in Goleta, CA

My first impression of Goleta, California was from a train journey up the California Coast about 10 years ago. I didn’t see the town, but just after we passed it, I watched a dolphin playing in the surf. It was a vision of wild freedom that stayed with me long after my train journey ended.

When a house sitting opportunity in Goleta came up this winter, I jumped on it. Watching that dolphin play gave me the impression that Goleta was a small central California type of town. I was wrong.

A bee finds eucalyptus blosoms tasty! — Eucalyptus Blossoms

Goleta seems more like southern Cali than central to me. I quickly discovered that it is not a small town. The dark, dense wall of smog I hit when I crossed over to the western side of the Sierras should have been my first clue. Loaded with big box stores and shopping malls, Goleta is a suburb of Santa Barbara and a college town. It reminded me of Boulder, Colorado, with a beach.

The good news is that even though it is an urban area, there are incredible opportunities to observe wildlife. Just north of the home I was housesitting in was the butterfly preserve.

Goleta Butterfly Preserve — Overwintering Monarch Butterflies

Ellwood Mesa is one of the most important Monarch Butterfly habitats in California. But Monarch Butterflies are in trouble. Populations throughout California have declined 97% in 20 years. Tens of thousands of butterflies used to overwinter in the Goleta Grove. Peak season estimates for the grove now number only about a thousand.

There is no single cause for this dramatic decline. One contributing factor, though, is California’s ongoing drought. The 2011-2016 drought cycle killed many of the eucalyptus trees that the butterflies depend on for their winter roosts. Nearly 1,000 eucalyptus trees on Ellwood Mesa died due to the drought conditions. The gaps left by the dying trees allow too much wind to reach the butterfly roosts. I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to see these butterflies before they all disappear.

If I walked south instead, I could walk in the North Campus Open Space Restoration Project. This is part of the Coal Oil Point Natural Reserve, an Audubon Important Bird Area. Thousands of birds migrate through the Reserve. Western Snowy Plovers, an endangered species, nest here. Sora rails have been seen at the ponds, and Burrowing Owls live on the uplands. These are just a few of the many species of birds to be found here. The Reserve is mostly undisturbed land, quite a rarity this far south in California. It includes many different types of coastal habitat. I found the birdwatching fabulous.

Goleta Open Space Great Egret — Great Egret hunting

It was great even if I didn’t make it to the reserve. The California Coastal Trail runs along the beaches and bluffs. I observed a pair of Harris Hawks, unusual for this location. They seemed to have a nest on the cliffs below the bluffs. Many times I stopped to watch a Great Egret hunting in the meadows near the Butterfly Preserve. Clouds of finches sang to me from the trees. I was even photobombed by a hummingbird while photographing the bees in the eucalyptus blossoms!

Goleta landscape — California Coastal Trail

Most people would think Goleta was a pretty nice little town. But this Alaska girl needs a bit more space than most folks. I got claustrophobia. Big time.

Part of it was the place I was staying in. Housing costs are rather outrageous in the area, so my housesit was in a studio apartment, shared with 2 bunnies, a cat, a lizard and some fish.

That wasn’t the main reason for my claustrophobia, though. Give me a decent bed and a table to work off of and I’m pretty much OK. The location was ideal for a home in Goleta. It was the last apartment building before the green space. It was just a short walk to the beach, the stroll along the bluffs, the bird refuge, or the Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary. So many choices!

Graffiti on eucalyptus tree — Graffiti on the trees is too urban for me!

What stressed me out was too many other people living in close proximity, so many apartments so close together. It was walking on trails where I was never out of sight of others, not even for a moment. I walked everywhere, because if I drove I was immediately inundated with heavy traffic and shopping malls.

On my first walk to the trail on the bluff, I noticed graffiti scribbled on one of the trees. Then there was the beach. There’s a reason they call it Coal Oil Point. It’s probably the best place on the California coast to drill for offshore oil, so the sunset view was marred by drilling rigs. Naturally occurring tar balls wash up on the beach. Even though I knew it was natural, as I picked my way across the sand. the black deposits screamed “oil spill” to me when I looked out at those rigs.

Goleta Sunset — Offshore oil rig mars the sunset at Coal Oil Point

Both the City of Goleta and UC Santa Barbara are working hard at restoration and providing quality wildlife habitat. They’re doing a great job. I even heard that the closest oil rig was being decommissioned and should come down within a year. I really appreciate the work they’re doing, and I am thankful that I had this opportunity to experience this special place before all the butterflies are gone.

I’m glad to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live here. I need a place that’s a bit more wild. How about you? Do some of you share my claustrophobia in urban areas? Or maybe you have the opposite temperament. Are any of you more comfortable in the city and uncomfortable in a land that is too isolated? Let me know in the comments!

Tag: butterflies

Sanctuary

Pacific Grove Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary

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