Butterflies
Fragile Symbols of the Complex Natural World
There is little that brings such pleasure so effortlessly as watching the dance-like flight of colorful butterflies fluttering amidst flower gardens, searching for sweet nectar, on a sun dappled day. Observe a group of children as they marvel at the concept of metamorphosis -- learning for the first time about the transformation of caterpillar to chrysalis to butterfly -- or listen to anyone who has experienced first hand the migration of the monarch, and you can't help but reconnect with the wonder of the natural world.
Living testament to nature's ingenuity, lepidopterans (literally translated to mean "shingle winged insects") are far more than pretty objects to be encased in lacquer, or decorative creatures to be pinned inside a specimen case. In the words of Robert Michael Pyle, founder of the Xerces Society and author of the definitive Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Butterflies, "they have fascinating lives which interdigitate with our lives in so many wonderful ways." While they give us pleasure and provide us with knowledge about everything from life cycles to species interdependence, our relationship with butterflies tends to be one sided: without realizing it, we give them little but pain.
The Xerces Society was named after the tiny xerces blue butterfly, Glaucopsyche xerces, which once resided in the dunes of the San Francisco Bay area, but which now has the dubious distinction of being the first American butterfly species to become extinct as a result of the activities of man. Ironically, The Presidio, where the last xerces was seen, is soon to become a National Park. While complex conservation and recovery projects based on sound ecological understanding have been successful for some species of butterflies in Europe, North America, and other parts of the world, for the xerces there will be no second chance. Thanks to the encroachment of humankind upon its habitat, it is already dead.
The Wonderful Complexity of Life
There are 200,000 or so species of lepidoptera on the planet; in North America there are about as many species of butterfly as there are birds. Several reside on the United States' endangered species list, and although the xerces is one of many that have been lost to the world forever due to habitat destruction, pollution, or intrusion by exotic species, for many, there is still some semblance of hope. More and more, these fragile creatures are being appreciated not only for beauty's sake, but for the delicate intricacies, interconnections, and balances in nature which they so vividly represent.
Consider the Family Lycaenidae, which comprises approximately 40% of all butterfly species: Many lycaenid butterflies have an intimate relationship with ants. As with all butterflies, females of the species search for the specific foodplants that meet the nutritional needs of their larvae before ovipositing (laying eggs). Several of the lycaenids go one step further, looking not only for the essential species of foodplant, but for those which are frequented by a particular species of ant. Eggs are laid, and when hatched, the larvae produce secretions which attract and appease the desirable species of ant. The ants, in return for the amino acid rich 'nectar' which is secreted by the larvae, do not prey upon the larvae or pupae -- despite the fact that they are a prime source of food. The ants tend the larvae so closely that they actually act as guardians against other predators such as wasps, spiders, and other species of ant.
By examining the life of the butterfly -- from its beginning as an egg deposited on the underside of whichever type of plant its larval stage depends on for food, to the total transformation that takes place within a pupae (which often feeds on an entirely different host plant), and the winged creatures which result -- we can begin to appreciate the complex inner- workings of the natural world. While rare large birds and mammals receive most of the attention in the controversies surrounding environmental protection, many times the number of insects, plants, and micro-organisms are in just as much peril -- and are as critical to the ecosystems they inhabit -- as the better known large species like the northern spotted owl.
Diversity and the Delicate Balance
Ironically, while owls have symbolized the jobs versus environment debate in the Pacific Northwest -- becoming the scapegoats in the battle over a very complex ecosystem -- the Johnson's Hairstreak has just as much to lose if ancient forests are lost. This particular species of butterfly feeds only on mistletoe, a semi-parasitic shrub which resides only on old growth trees.
"The orgy of clearcutting can only be understood by looking," says Interior Secretary Bruce Babbitt of the Pacific Northwest. "You can see it from the air on the boundaries of Olympic National Park, which is an emerald green gem of mountainsides and snowcapped peaks. On the other side of the line, the earth has been stripped bare. Every single tree has been cut down; the landscape has been burned to obliterate every last trace of life; there are roads crisscrossing sixty degree slopes. It rains, the slopes slide down into the streams, the salmon runs are blocked, the salmon can't spawn... "
Timber industry proponents argue that clear-cuts don't remain barren landscapes forever: They are replanted and grow into spectacular second growth forests. The problem, according to biologist Jerry Franklin of the University of Washington, is that these new forests turn into the equivalent of Iowa cornfields. "They take the landscapes and plant them with a monospecies of Douglas Fir," says Franklin, "lay herbicides on the land to exclude other species, and grow forests which are biological deserts." An old growth forest consists of scores of tree species ranging from seedlings to snags to towering evergreens a thousand years old -- all of which hosts an intermixture of life and food chains that can't be replicated, let alone in a uniform stand of replanted trees.
Clearcut, say the experts, and the loss of diversity is an obvious result. Butterflies -- particularly the specialists like the Johnson's Hairstreak which rely on a single food source -- provide a good indication of ecosystem health. Babbitt contends that "we have to get beyond this single species approach" when looking to protect habitats, and yet there are many cases when a single species -- wolf, owl, salmon, even a butterfly -- becomes a rallying point, a symbol for preserving the complexity of the wilds.
Sustainability: Income from an Alternate Source
While the number of hard core butterfly enthusiasts may seem small if one looks at the membership of organizations such as the Xerces Society (a group of about 6,500 dedicated to the conservation of invertebrates) and the North American Butterfly Association (membership: nearly 2,000), there are hundreds of thousands of us who are enthralled by the sight of these delicate creatures as they meander through our lives. A live butterfly exhibit at Philadelphia's Academy of Natural Sciences proved so popular it was extended; by the time it ended its six month stand last July 30, it had drawn more than 120,000 visitors. The Smithsonian Institution is currently attracting scores with its own look at lepidopterans and their fascinating life cycles. Each winter, thousands of people from around the world visit California's Monterey Peninsula or the mountains of Mexico for the sole purpose of viewing millions of monarch butterflies roosting in trees at their overwintering sites.
The town of Pacific Grove, California, celebrates the coming of the monarchs each year, and has even passed monarch protection laws, forbidding residents and visitors from collecting specimens or disturbing clusters on trees. The California coast where the monarchs roost is an affluent area, however, not a logging town in Oregon, or a highland in Mexico, where economic conditions are harsh and people's livelihoods often come from harvesting trees. How can one justify halting logging in a poor area just because insects make the trees their part-time home?
"What is a butterfly tree to some people, is a job to others," says Pyle. The problem of logging in the mountains where the monarchs overwinter is not only one of eliminating roosting sites, but of changing the climate of the area as well. "Opening up the canopy of the forest by logging, even if it is done selectively, warms the monarchs and causes them to fly." The monarchs temperature needs are very specific. Oddly, overactivity in the winter can be disastrous to the creatures who travel up to 2,000 miles during their migration to the south. "The monarchs need to conserve their energy," says Pyle, "so they can make it back to their breeding grounds in the spring..."
The solution to some of the logging issues in Mexico has been eco-tourism, which gives the opportunity for the people to preserve the forest and at the same time be gainfully employed. "The locals make more money based on the perpetuation of the monarch than they could as loggers or poachers," says Pyle, who has worked with local people in many parts of the world to find alternative means of income that encourage them to preserve. In the mountains of Mexico's Neovolcanic Plateau, butterfly-based tourism is not only for wealthy foreigners; thousands of curious locals visit the overwintering areas as well.
The largest butterfly in the world is the Queen Alexander's Birdwing; found in the rainforests of Papua New Guinea, its unusual size has made it the subject of a lucrative specimen trade. The birdwing has a price on its head, and it may be just that fact that has saved the species from becoming extinct. Logging and oil development threatened the forests where the butterfly makes its home, but people learned that by protecting the forest and cultivating the habitat, more marketable specimens could be raised. Now that they have a new way of looking at the forest, the local people are certain to discover that there is much they can sensibly harvest from their natural environment. Protected and utilized wisely, the forest is a far more valuable resource than if it was over-exploited for one of its parts. Butterflies are helping show people the way.
"We must remember," says Robert Michael Pyle of the fragile insects which have become his obsession , "that for all the enjoyment we get from these beautiful creatures, we give them little. And, ultimately, we hold their future in our hands..." The same holds true for all creatures -- large and small -- with which we share the planet's air, water, and land.
