Joann Merritt's Essays

Llano Estacado Gardeners & Butterflies
November, 2000

By word of mouth as well as by the written word, wordsmiths of the Llano Estacado Chapter of the Native Plant Society of Texas have brought forth quality information on the values and uses of natives. Insight can be gained into the psyche of these members by recalling expressions they used in the Midland Reporter Telegram’s "Wild on the Prairie" series of articles published during the past year or so.

For instance, Burr Williams writes “gardens extend the house to include outdoor rooms” and “gardeners create joy for themselves a thousand times or more a year.” Mrs. Burr Williams, the former Deborah Hartley, adds “using native plant emissaries that are found growing everywhere around us enriches our daily lives in countless ways.”

Andra Chamberlin advocates “what you gain from native gardening cannot be measured but it is guaranteed to fill the heart” while Chuck Chamberlin shows his bent by stating “native grasses fit comfortably and put an exclamation mark in your garden” and they both believe that “natives give regional identity, they belong and they show it.”

Adding a bit of frivolity Johnnye Montgomery exhorts “at harvest time don’t spoil the fun by cleaning up, leave your plants alone as every flower becomes a four-star restaurant for something or other - birds, butterflies, bees…”

Betty Lewis suggests that addiction is rampant in today’s society and good humouredly illustrates her own addiction to wildflowers by writing that she identified 18 varieties in three-tenths of a mile while lackadaisically (her word!) picking up trash for her bicycle club’s Keep Midland Beautiful project. This proves wildflowers can be enjoyed wherever one encounters them.

Those touring the gardens of Llano Estacado members have beautiful memories of the landscapes they viewed and will understand Jean Reid’s optimistic assessment “West Texas can be a virtual Garden of Eden.”

Kathleen Fields delightfully encourages us to “get outside today and spend some time with one of your favorites (native plants). Serenity may just drift your way and quietly fill your soul as you gaze at the beauty around you.”

Lady Bird Johnson, whose name is a near synonym for wildflowers, is our country’s preeminent wildflower enthusiast. She penned a motto using only six words “Where flowers bloom, so does hope.” These few simple words pack quite a wallop and are included in an inscription dedicating a hill country garden to her. Located in LBJ State Park the plaque is attached to a boulder and is inscribed “May this Native Plant and “Wildflower Garden forever remind us of Mrs. Lyndon Johnson’s gracious gift of awareness about the environment and the human spirit. August, 1997.”

For this writer, natives and butterflies are inexorably entwined. One of the loveliest sights in nature is that of butterflies glissading from wildflower to wildflower. Butterflies coming to native gardens receive a full package of benefits just for brightening the gardens with their fairylike beauty. The benefit package includes host plants, nectar sources, moist soil for imbibing water, basking sites and over wintering hide-a-ways as well as simple nighttime sleeping accommodations.

With morning cup of coffee in hand I was outside absorbing the coolness of a new day when my eyes alighted on a Giant Swallowtail who was still at roost on a dead twig of a sumac tree. The Giant Swallowtail lives up to his name with a wingspan of 4 to 6 inches. He was sleeping with his giant butterfly wings fully opened and held that pose while we closely examined his wing patterns and even when Don’s flash bulbs lighted his sleeping quarters. This happenstance turned my focus toward plants that butterflies utilize as roosting places.

My summer observations revealed that most butterflies roost with their wings closed, but there are exceptions. They roost either high or low, on the outside of plants or in the foliage, hidden and camouflaged by their surroundings or in the open as if on exhibit. I found no absolute pattern, different species have different preferences. The only given is that one must follow the butterflies example of being early risers if your aim is to see them before they vacate the premises.

Sleepy Orange butterflies preferred to sleep amid the dense foliage of salvias and asters in a hide-and-go-seek mode. Occasionally I could exclaim “I spy!” but usually I would espy them after they were “home free”. One morning 7 or 8 Sleepy Oranges were lying nearly flat on the grass, as if in the last throes of death. After watching them a while I realized they were tilting on their sides, to orient first one side, and then the other towards the sun, to absorb the warmth of its rays. Sulphurs absolutely never alight with their wings open even to bask. The only time you glimpse the topside of their wings is while they are flying or with wings backlit by the sun.

Common Mestras and Buckeyes spent the night on Frogfruit while the greenish Lyside hung limply among the needles of a pine tree. The Questionmark’s dead leaf pattern allows him to escape detection as he roosts on a tree trunk. He resembles a loose piece of bark until his bright orange-topped wings are opened; then the butterfly is quite visible.

Lynda Johnson’s Queen butterflies chose the southside of her large Vitex tree for their royal boudoir - I suppose they needed a Queen-sized bed.

Sumac, Western Soapberry and Mesquite trees proved to be a popular lodging for several species of butterflies on our two acres.

A Sleepy Duskywing’s name also referred to his condition the morning we found him on a ranch south of Midland. He was well camouflaged as he slept in a shin oak thicket that is his proper habitat. The dusky wing was a tree hugger and had resourcefully wrapped his wings around a shin oak twig thus forming his own personal sleeping tent.

A few years ago the freshness of autumn dew gave a sparkle and liveliness to everything in our pasture except for the butterflies who sparkled but were too cold to be lively. They were immobilized on their roosts until the sun evaporated the dew and warmed them. Only then did they exhibit any signs of life. Among the butterflies scattered on various plants such as Paper Daisies, Tidestromia and Mesquite trees was a tiny Pygmy Blue who had selected the bowed head of a careless weed for its designer bed. Pliny the Elder, the Roman naturalist, thought caterpillars came from the dew that formed on trees - if he’d been with me that morning he might have thought that butterflies did, too.

Even though native gardens aren’t specifically designed to be Butterfly Best Westerns, they just naturally are. This may not be important scientific information but it has been an interesting and enjoyable native plant and butterfly experience for me.

Perhaps you’ve now gained some insight into this writer’s psyche!