First butterflies of spring

A worn and tattered Mourning Cloak butterfly, Nymphalis antiopa, rests on oak leaf litter in southern Ohio. This species overwinters as an adult, riding out the winter in sheltered nooks and crannies. Come a decently warm spell, and out they come.

I made a wide-ranging jaunt through southern Ohio last Saturday, when temperatures peaked in the high 60's. One noteworthy ridgetop carpeted with chestnut oak had a small flurry of Mourning Cloaks; perhaps 4 or 5 flitting about. I also saw a first-of-year Comma, another species that winters in its adult form. Interestingly, like the Mourning Cloak, these two species also range broadly across Europe and Eurasia.

The appearance of butterflies is a surefire sign of spring and warmer days.

Mourning Cloak

Columbus Dispatch
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Jim McCormac

Nature

Glorious mourning cloak struts its stuff early

Few creatures are more surefire signs of spring than the butterfly.

The sight of one of these gossamer-winged beauties flitting along on the season's first warm breezes is indeed welcome after the brutal winter just past.

One of the first Ohio butterflies to emerge and welcome spring is also one of the showiest species on the globe. The mourning cloak ( Nymphalis antiopa) is a jaw-dropping whopper insofar as butterflies go. With a wingspan that stretches the tape to 4 inches - like the familiar monarch butterfly - mourning cloaks are easy to spot.

If you see one, sneak in for a good look. Cloaks are extraordinary; painted in a background color of rich, velvety ebony-purple. The wings are trimmed in brilliant gold, as if gilded by elfin butterfly goldsmiths.

A row of tiny azure-blue dots stitches the margins of the gold, creating a fantastic tapestry of design that would turn Martha Stewart green with envy.

The Brits have coined a suitably magnificent name for this cosmopolitan stunner: the Camberwell beauty.

Mourning cloaks are perhaps our longest-lived butterfly. Some individuals can survive for 10 months or more. The adults spend winter in sheltered areas such as bark crevices or woodpiles. The first warm days bring them out: On a March 7 foray, with temperatures in the 50s, our group saw our first cloak of spring.

Butterflies and native plants are intimately intertwined. The larvae, or caterpillars, require specific plant species that provide the right nutrients and chemicals to spur their growth.

Thus, the butterfly seeks out certain suitable host plants upon which it lays its eggs. In the case of the mourning cloak, birches, willows, elms and hackberries are the fodder that ultimately cast this sensational butterfly to the skies.

You can help by learning more about native plants and planting them in your yard. By picking the species favored by particular butterflies, you might enrich your local turf with these winged wonders.

A good resource for learning more about Ohio butterflies and their host plants is the book Butterflies of Ohio by Jaret C. Daniels. Look for it in bookstores and on www.amazon.com.

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch the first and third Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at jim mccormac.blogspot.com.

A spangle of fritillaries

While surveying breeding birds last Saturday in the outback of Morgan County, I was struck by the numbers of butterflies coursing about. I saw many species, but it was the following two that really grabbed my eye, is it was the most I had ever seen of either in one day.

A Mourning Cloak, wings up and looking much like a blackened leaf. They really blend well when in this position. I saw dozens; seemed like every fifty feet I’d flush one from the back country gravel roads.

When a Mourning Cloak flashes its wings to the open position, they transform into a thing of great beauty. The dominant dorsal color is a rich velvety purple-black, trimmed with gilt and dotted with blue flecks of the richest azure. No wonder the Brits refer to Mourning Cloaks as “Camberwell Beauties”. They get around; it’s got one of the widest distributions in the butterfly world, occurring throughout North America as well as in Europe and Eurasia.

Their host plants include elms, willows, and some of the poplars, all of which are common in Ohio. They must have had a recent hatch, as all of the cloaks that I saw were stunning in their freshness. Mourning Cloaks last a while, too – they overwinter as adults and can sometimes be seen flying about and shaking off the dust in warm sunny mid-winter days.

It was the Great Spangled Fritillaries that really grabbed my eye, though. They were everywhere. The most I’ve ever seen in a single day. This is a fresh male, and nearly all that I saw were boys, as they emerge prior to the females.

This is a female Great Frit, one of relatively few I saw that day. Note how it is darker above, and when seen with the males they are noticeably larger.

The ventral, or underside, of the wings may be more striking than the upper surface. Dotted with shining silvery chevrons, it’s as if the butterflies have been draped in exotic bling. Fritillaries employ a rather bizarre reproductive strategy. Females lay eggs near, but not often on, the host plants, which are violets of many species. The larvae winter over in leaf litter without feeding, then come spring must locate violets to feed upon. Although it seems a scattershot way of doing business, it obviously has worked well with Great Spangled Fritillaries in Morgan County.

The video above shows a small patch of Canada Thistle, Cirsium arvense, that is being swarmed by a feeding frenzy of frits. In general, Canada Thistle is a despicable non-native invader, but these butterflies are obviously intoxicated by its nectar. There were dozens of butterflies on this thistle patch, and all were males with the exception of one early to emerge female.