As promised . . .



My camera and tripod . . . and Hope.

Just about two weeks ago, I spent a Sunday morning in my garden. That is not all that unusual for me because I spend time almost every morning in my garden. The unusual part, though, was that I got to witness one of my very own Monarch butterflies take her first flight after emerging from her chrysalis. The story of how she even came to exist makes my husband laugh and he constantly reminds me every time I run outside when I spy a Monarch in my garden. :-)


Back in January, while the snow fell and the wind howled, I ordered some milkweed plants from QVC (  http://www.qvc.com/ ). The host and the company representative from Roberta's Gardens ( http://robertasgardens.net/ ) pointed out that the plants would arrive at just the right time for planting in my area and that they would attract butterflies during the coming summer. The plants were shipped, but they arrived a tad early for planting. We were still having some frosty nights. I waited until the threat of frosts passed and on a warm spring day, I dug six holes along the east side of my perennial garden. I decided that since these plants had the word "weed" in their name, I couldn't take them too seriously; so I relegated them to a lonely existence along the garden's edge. They were weak and spindly and I pretty much decided they would probably never survive. Every time my husband, Paul, and I were on the deck overlooking the garden, or tending other plants, he heard me call those weak and defenseless little plants names. I had no faith in them. I referred to them as those stupid, stinkin' milkweeds. Paul got pretty tired of the daily name calling. He wondered where my farm girl faith had gone. I guess I never really made the connection between the planting and the harvest, although I grew up on a cash crop farm. My father and uncles planted things. They grew. They were harvested. And they were not grown from spindly plants, like my stupid, stinkin' milkweeds. They were grown from seeds! Corn seeds, kidney and white bean seeds, wheat and oat seeds, hay seeds (no pun intended, Daddy), alfalfa seeds, pea seeds and seed potatoes. Seven hundred acres of things that needed to grow so we could all have a roof over our heads, food on the table and clothes on our backs. I don't recall my father walking in and out of the back door lamenting over his fields and calling his money crops nasty names. He had faith, . . . along with some sleepless nights, I'm sure, when there was either too much or too little rain. Miraculously, all six plants grew and they thrived. They blossomed and they attracted Monarch butterflies, just as promised.




Mature Stupid, Stinkin' Milkweed Plant

The Monarchs laid eggs on the milkweed plants and they hatched into caterpillars that showed up in July and August.

Monarch caterpillar devouring an immature milkweed seedpod

The caterpillars feasted on the milkweed leaves and later on they devoured the seed pod casings. The caterpillars disappeared and I was not sure where they went. I figured they were either eaten by birds or drowned in the torrential rains we had over the summer . . . until one day when I spied a curious thing hanging from one of my Russian Sage plants about 20 feet away from the milkweeds. I had recently seen a photo on a friend's Facebook page of a chrysalis and eventually a photo of the Monarch butterfly that emerged. I was thrilled to have my very own chrysalis in my garden! I watched that little thing daily. I took about 50 photos of it, all looking the same, but I was enamored by it! Then on the Saturday before the butterfly emerged, I noticed it was starting to darken. My Internet research revealed it would take a day or two after it turned almost black for a butterfly to emerge.

The chrysalis as it appeared for several weeks.

This smart phone photo is a little blurry, but you can see the color beginning to change from green to black.

On Sunday morning, I poured myself a cup of coffee and went out on the deck overlooking the garden. I noticed the little dot of a chrysalis that I had watched from a distance with squinting eyes for the past few weeks was looking darker, just as promised by my research. I decided this would be a good time to get my camera and tripod out. I had wanted to practice putting my camera on the tripod anyway, so I could use it in my garden to photograph flowers; and I would be able to practice setting it up for the big event when the Monarch would finally emerge. I planned to keep a close watch on it and  hoped I would be home when it happened. I brought the camera and tripod onto the deck and took my time as I fiddled around with getting the camera on securely. I looked out at the garden again and my mouth fell open and I think I squealed. I took a deep breath, thanked God and Jesus, grabbed the camera and tripod and got down the stairs and across the yard as fast as I could. Without time to even set my tripod down, I somehow took a photo with the tripod tucked under my arm. I was shaking from my excitement, and yes, I was crying. I was so happy at the miracle of my very own Monarch butterfly. She was hanging beneath her chrysalis. Her wings were heavy and damp and I knew she needed to dry them in the sunshine before she could take off.

The first photo that I took of her right after she emerged from the chrysalis.

I eventually pulled up a lawn chair and sat with her. I stayed by her side for two hours. She moved away from the chrysalis and onto a branch on the Russian Sage. Then she stretched out her beautiful wings just a few times and took flight. She flew up into a maple tree and I didn't see her the rest of the day. I named her Hope.


The next day I scoured the garden for her, but didn't see her. My heart sank and I worried that she had been eaten by a predator. But, on the following day I saw her fluttering about. I tried to get close for a photo, but she was shy. Eventually she stayed still long enough for me to get a few good shots. It was then that I realized my "she" was a "he", by "her" markings. A black spot on each wing was the key to my discovery. I decided "she" would remain Hope and I didn't change her name. Hope represented the promise of faith to me. I found it easier in the beginning to just give up on the plants when they were spindly and weak. But I watered and fertilized them and they grew. They blossomed and today they are heavy with seed pods full of promise. I am using organza bags to collect the seeds while they are still on the plants. When the dried pods burst inside the bags, the seeds won't be scattered by the wind. I will harvest them and keep them for planting in the spring.

Organza bags tied over the milkweed seedpods

Seeing Hope fly about in my garden fulfilled the promise of those spindly and weak little plants that I gave up on before they even had a chance. This has been a lesson that I can apply not only to my gardening, but to my life. The smallest and weakest among us can thrive if given what they need. For plants, it is sunshine and rain. For people, it is love and compassion . . . not for just the strong and attractive, but for the weak and ordinary. Metamorphosis . . . from a caterpillar to a butterfly . . . is not a new story, but I'm viewing it with new eyes.





Hope. As promised . . .

Thank you for taking the time to read my blog post today. As always, your questions and comments are welcome. And until we meet again, may the Lord hold you in the hollow of His hand.

Emmy

Beautiful September!

It is an absolutely gorgeous September day today, but the weather this summer was often stormy with hot and humid weeks and some torrential rains that resulted in flooding in many areas in Western New York. We are fortunate to live on high ground in the village. Our back yard slopes down to a field that leads to the bank of the Tonawanda Creek. Its a great place to observe nature. We have a family of deer with two fawns that graze along the tree line at the creek's edge. Last week I spotted two young foxes playing tag in the field and once in a while we catch a glimpse of an eagle as it floats on the thermals and goes higher and higher until it is out of sight.


We feed the birds and have enjoyed the melodious songs of orioles and watched with delight as they taught their fledglings to fly. The young birds would take short flights from the tree tops to the ground and then in spurts they would make their way to the feeders. They discovered how much fun they could have in our bird baths, and delighted us with their antics. But after we had some of the worst torrents of rain, the orioles disappeared for about a week. They returned, but not in the same numbers as before the storms. We took the feeders down yesterday because the only thing they were attracting was bees. They love the grape jelly feeders as much as the orioles do!

An oriole enjoying some grape jelly at the feeder.
Please excuse the distortion. I took this in a hurry with my smartphone.

The highlight of my spring and summer has been working in my yard and gardens. I trimmed back much of the overgrowth that had filled in some of my favorite spaces over the last few years while I was recuperating from surgeries and unable to do strenuous activities. Tugging on wild grapevines is a great stress reliever! My husband saw how much fun I was having and wanted to make the work easier for me, so he went shopping and found some great garden tools that I've used all summer long. He learned the way to my heart isn't with jewelry, but with rakes, trimmers, and mulchers!





When I was a child, Monarch Butterflies were plentiful and I saw them all the time in the summer. Their population decreased due to the use of herbicides that killed the milkweed plants that they need to survive. While the snow fell in January, I ordered many of the plants for my garden and I included some milkweed plants in my order. I have to wonder what my father would think about me planting weeds in my garden. He used to scold me for opening the pods on breezy fall days and tossing the little balls of fluff in the air, scattering the seeds along the hedgerows on our farm. He didn't want them to spread into the fields where he grew crops for the canning factory. When the plants arrived, I was very worried that they would ever amount to anything, but I put them in the ground and they grew . . . and grew . . . and grew! They did their job and attracted Monarchs, who in turn laid eggs on the plants' leaves. Those eggs turned into caterpillars that ate the leaves and seed pod casings on the milkweeds. The worms then travelled to places in the yard where they could spin their chrysalis and eventually hatch into butterflies. Having the opportunity to watch this all occur in my back yard this summer brought me immense joy.







A beautiful Monarch Butterfly visiting the blossoms on one of the milkweeds in the garden






Monarch caterpillar on the underside of a milkweed leaf.



A Monarch chrysalis that hangs from a Russian Sage plant in the garden. It is only about one inch long.

The caterpillar travelled about 20 feet across the garden to climb up here to make this!

If you look closely, you can see the stripes on the butterfly's wings inside the chrysalis.

The gold dots that form a line intrigue me. They shine no matter if it is sunny or cloudy.

I think the butterfly will emerge soon.



This is the fluff that was in just one seed pod!



The fluff captured from the seed pod in the photo above.
I read on a blog post that you can tie organza bags on the seed pods before they burst.
I just happened to have a bag on hand in my studio!
I caught this one in just the nick of time.
A run to the bridal section at Michaels is in my very near future!

So, if you wonder why it has been five months since my last blog post, it is because I have been outside as much as possible and enjoying my back yard with my husband. We have spent many enjoyable hours in the garden and on our deck looking at birds visiting the feeders and listening to their songs. We have used our smartphones hundreds of times while outside to ask Google questions about the birds and about plants we are considering for the garden. It is pretty amazing to think we carry little computers around with us in our pockets!




I will probably back track in my next few blog posts to fill in the gap from April until now. In the meanwhile, I hope you are well and happy and enjoying the blessiings of a good life. And until we meet again, may the Lord hold you in the hollow of His hand.


Emmy