Yesterday, in need of a little pull-the-chapter-together inspiration, I re-read Fred Urquhart’s 1976 National Geographic article, Found at Last: the Monarch’s Winter Home. It’s an important piece of the history of Monarch butterfly research, and I’ve read it several times. It’s funny, though, how old research shines anew when you mix in a few new experiences…
For example, having recently done a lot of reading about Monarchs (and even written a manuscript about the Monarch life cycle), I was struck by the well-circulated Monarch factoids that date back to this article. Like this bit on the growth of a Monarch caterpillar, which has appeared in so many articles and books since:
“Within two weeks the larva will have multiplied its original weight by 2700. A six pound baby that grew at the same rate would weigh eight tons!”
I’ve also seen the Monarch’s winter home since I last read this article. And so I was struck more deeply with Urquhart’s description of butterflies that “filled the air with their sun-shot wings, shimmering against the blue mountain sky and drifting across our vision in blizzard flakes of orange and black.”
Oh, yes. I remember that.
When I was done with the article, I chipped away at my chapter. But then I shut down the computer, grabbed my boys, my butterfly net, and my MonarchWatch tags … and set out for the nearest meadow. In honor of Fred Urquhart and Monarch biologists everywhere, and in celebration of the chapter that shall soon be complete (maybe by the end of the morning?), we captured, tagged, and successfully released one fresh male Monarch:
© Benjamin Griffin Burns
