Rooting on the Monarch Butterfly

Both Tammy and I can recall vividly the feeling that we would never see a Bald Eagle in our lifetimes.  As we were growing up, these birds were an extremely rare site and the prognosis for their population was not necessarily good.  And now, in the 2020s, we find that the population in the mainland 48 states is over 300,000 birds.

Tammy and I see these birds regularly in the area where we live.  Sometimes, they even visit the Genuine Faux Farm.  Look carefully and you'll see the bird we have nicknamed Jackie the Ripper.

Let me just say that this bird has a fearsome, hooked beak.  

We don't mind having Jackie around on the farm so much, especially since she tends to take off whenever we come outside.  I suppose we might have reason to be nervous about this bird with our chickens on pasture, but we haven't had a problem yet.  And, as long as the eagle stays leery of being around when we are, things should be fine.

from the Cornell Lab All About Birds site

Whenever I am feeling particularly hopeless about something related to nature, I like to pull out the example of the Bald Eagle.  Somehow, some way, we all came to a general agreement that we did not want the Bald Eagle to disappear.  Then, amazing enough, we made changes and that population is recovering.

Can I dare to hope for the same things with the Western Monarch?

According to various sites, the Monarch population has shown a rebound, of a sort, this past year.  And, rather than report it all here, let me suggest you read this article on the Xerces site.  But, to tease you a bit with the information, here is a graphic from that article.

Is it ok for me to enter this new growing season with the expectation that MAYBE I will see more than a couple of Western Monarch caterpillars on the milkweed plants we allow to grow in the wild spaces of our farm?

I am here to tell you how lonely it can feel on the farm when I walk down the rows of zinnias and I am not greeted by at least a dozen Western Monarchs (or more).  During some of the earlier years on the farm, a several hundred foot row of zinnias would attract DOZENS at any given time.

The past couple of years, a sighting of a single Monarch provided reason for an exclamation from whichever of us would see it first.  

I don't want to experience the hole in my heart that would come if I couldn't expect to see them on our farm in the years to come.  And, neither should you.

Perhaps it is true that absence makes the heart grow fonder - but let's not let it come to that.  I've always appreciated these flying gems, and I hope to have the opportunity to appreciate them for many more years to come.