Earth Almanac: September/October 2008

High-Ranking Butterfly

If you despair over the diminution of this planet’s natural beauty, it’s time to look for red admiral butterflies, which are about as far from endangered as any species gets. They abound in all of North America that isn’t permanently frozen, in Central America south to Guatemala, in Asia as far east as Iran, and in most of Europe and north Africa. Fall is a good time to find these fidgety, gaudy insects because they migrate south, sometimes gathering in enormous numbers. Red admirals frequently land on people, a habit more welcome now than in the late 19th century, when prolific flights over Russia in 1881 gave the insect a reputation as a prognosticator of doom because they coincided with the assassination of Tsar Alexander II.

Look closely at the markings on the underside of a perched red admiral’s hind wing, and you may be able to read “1881.” You’ll find red admirals feeding on bird droppings and the nectar of composite meadow flowers such as aster, milkweed, and alfalfa. The butterflies you encounter now are probably from the season’s second or third generation. When you see caterpillars living in tents made from silk and the leaves of willows, poplars, or elms, hold the spray and clippers. They might be red admiral larvae.

Season’s Sparklers

In early autumn, roadsides and meadow edges from Newfoundland to Saskatchewan and Florida to Nebraska explode in color as the orange, slipper-shaped blossoms of spotted jewelweed unfurl. Soon thereafter the ripe seedpods literally explode when jostled by beast or wind, sending seeds flying in all directions—hence the plant’s alternate name: touch-me-not. American Indians ate the azure seeds, which taste like butternuts; birds and small mammals relish them, too. When white-footed mice hoard the seeds they stain their bellies blue. The name jewelweed comes from the water-repellent quality of the leaves, which causes dew and rain to bead up and sparkle in the sun.

If you’re afflicted by poison ivy, poison oak, or athlete’s foot, relief may sometimes be had by crushing jewelweed stems and applying the sticky paste to affected areas. At times the plant can invade gardens, but in dismissing it as a “dreadful weedy nuisance,” The New York Times elicited the ire of biology professor Mary Leck of Rider University in Lawrenceville, New Jersey. After citing many of the above attributes of this remarkable plant, Leck offered this: “On reflection, perhaps jewelweed is truly a potential deterrent to the gardener—it may offer too many distractions from gardening chores.”