Month: March 2020

Apocalypse: An event involving destruction or damage on an awesome or catastrophic scale.

I do not use that word lightly, but it may be the most accurate way to describe what’s happening this year with one of our favorite insects, next to the honey bee: the Monarch butterfly.

Various groups have made it their business to conduct scientific counts of the overwintering populations of both the eastern Monarch butterfly, which breeds each of the Rockies, including Iowa, and migrates to the Sierra Madre mountains  in central Mexico, and the western Monarch butterfly, which breeds west of the Rockies and roosts in southern California.

In my lifetime, these darlings of the insect world once numbered in the millions if not billions. Today’s population estimates are nothing short of heart-stopping.

Here are the sad facts:

Eastern Monarch

• Overwintering butterflies covered approximately 7 acres of forest canopy in Mexico, less than half the area of last year’s population. Scientists estimate a long-term average of 15 acres of occupied forest canopy is needed to sustain the population.
• Decline in the past 20 years: 80 percent

Western Monarch

• Fewer than 30,000 butterflies were found at more than 400 sites, possibly a critical point for survival of the species. This is the second consecutive year the count was below the critical threshold.
• Decline in the past 20 years: 99 percent.

Can they bounce back? Scientists worry that they may not. A major threat to the Monarch is loss of habitat. Monarchs are the only known butterfly to make a two-way migration, similar to birds, though their migration happens over the course of several generations. Along this migratory route, they choose specific sites to overwinter, sometimes returning to the same tree or even the same branch generation after generation.

Iowa is in the heart of the Eastern Monarch’s summer breeding range. Roughly 40 percent of all Monarch butterflies that overwinter in Mexico are estimated to come from Iowa and neighboring Midwestern states. Female monarchs lay eggs exclusively on milkweed plants. Sources of nectar that feed these butterflies also have disappeared – just look at our roadside ditches, lack of fence rows and other wild areas that have been turned into parking lots and turfgrass.

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service is expected to decide in December 2020 whether the Monarch butterfly should be listed as an Endangered Species, which would offer significant legal protection for the species in the U.S.

Like other insects that are declining in population, the Monarch butterfly also is threatened by insecticides, climate change, parasites and diseases spread by agriculture.

So what to do? Farmers are being asked to minimize pesticide use, plant climate-adapted hedgerows, and restore habitat by growing monarch-suited vegetation. As homeowners, we also can contribute by reducing our pesticide use and buying native vegetation and a diverse array of flowering plants.

I found a couple good resources if you want to join me in this fight to save our Monarchs. I hope you find them useful!

Iowa Monarch Conservation Consortium

Located at Iowa State University, this represents 50 organizations such as agricultural and conservation associations, agribusiness and utility companies, universities and county, state and federal agencies. Their current strategy is to establish 480,00 to 830,000 acres of monarch habitat in Iowa by 2038.

Xerces Society

The Xerces Society is a nonprofit organization that focuses on the conservation of invertebrates considered essential to biological diversity and ecosystem health. They help conduct the annual count of Western Monarchs in California and lead several efforts to help Monarchs and other pollinators.

 

 

 

I had been trying to find connections between my bees and two events that have caused major disruptions in my life lately. Those events being the pandemic spread of coronavirus, which is turning the world upside-down for millions amid fears and uncertainty, and a total hip replacement, which has paused my normally active routines but without the fear and uncertainty created by a pandemic.

The connection was made in a get-well card from my granddaughter. She said she loved me (grandmas love to hear that!) and then she drew a picture of my bees taking care of a sick bee. One was pouring her a cup of honey tea (hot water + honey, a grandkid favorite) and another was licking a red lollipop.

Honey bees do self-isolate when one of them is ill. Rather than infecting the whole hive, sick bees often will leave the hive. This minimizes the spread of any infectious disease and secures the future of a healthy hive. Of course, such quarantines do not bode well for those sick bees – they eventually die.

I have heard about research that examines behavioral changes in bees that may be caused by certain viruses. A particular virus appears to actually reverse a sick bee’s self-isolation response. The virus may even create a smell that attracts other bees to the sick bee, thus assuring the continuation (and spread) of the virus.

This is scary, not unlike the fear and uncertainty being generated by the novel coronavirus. Wr do not know what to expect; this is all new ground we are navigating.

In scary times, we are called to have more compassion, something else that I have observed in my bee hives. Each spring, one of the first jobs of worker bees is to clear out all the bees that have died over the past winter. It usually take several bees to drag out a dead bee. And you’ll find the dead bees piled neatly in front of the hive.

We also need to have compassion for the more vulnerable folks during this pandemic. No matter my fears, there are many others who have an underlying health condition or fewer resources, and thus more reason to fear future what-ifs. Yes, we need to self-isolate (or social distance), but we also need to create ways to offer help and resources to others during these uncertain times.

I’ve also read that the bees share everything they have with the rest of the hive. In winter temperatures they come together in a cluster, shaking their bodies to keep a minimum temperature for the queen in the middle of the cluster. They also take turns being on the outside of the cluster where it’s the coldest.

I really liked my granddaughter’s drawing of the bees caring for each other. It reminded me that after my hip surgery I am not alone, that there’s a hive full of people who care for me, and will help me navigate the next few confusing weeks as I heal and get used to my new hip.

Food stores are readily shared, too. The bees closest to the capped honey pass it along to their sisters. Starvation strikes the entire hive and not just the ones farthest from the food.

I am thankful that thousands and thousands of people have had the same surgery as I have. My doctor has a good protocol for me to follow. Although I have never experienced this surgery, I can trust that the outcome will be good, minimizing my fear.

I hope you can practice compassion as we plod through the pandemic. And as always, love those bees!!