The Monarchs

An evening game of baseball

One night earlier this week during a post-dinner romp, an errant throw led to the lodging of the kids' frisbee in a tree. There was a lot of hopping about around the trunk, and then they began throwing balls into the tree in an attempt to knock the frisbee back to earth. Many earnest efforts later, they dislodged something, but sadly it was a nest full of baby robins.

Kate quickly came to the rescue, scooping the birds up and tending to them, including rounding up a meal of tasty caterpillars.

Later, once dusk turned to complete darkness and the screen door slammed its last staccato beats of the day, the children gathered around Kate on the daybed to research more detailed care of baby birds, courtesy of Uncle Google.


And that's when the we discovered that all those lovely caterpillars, the forebearers of the baby monarch butterflies that had been fluttering past us all week as we made our way down the path to the dock, held a dangerous secret in their beautiful bodies: as caterpillars, they feed exclusively off the meat of the milkweed plant, infusing their bodies with its poison. The poison doesn't kill animals that feed on the monarchs, but definitely doesn't make them feel well, ensuring that the monarchs are a none-too-tasty meal.

http://www.flowersociety.org/Milkweed-Plant-Study.htm

The caterpillar snack wasn't a big deal for the baby birds, who likely just threw them up. But it got me thinking about the necessarily 'dark' side of evolutionary advantage. The monarchs do what they do so well that other butterflies, like the Viceroy, have evolved to mimic their appearance almost perfectly.

Monarchs on their migration through Mexico - farflungphoto

Also, it brought me back to the fledging robin who fell out of its nest earlier this summer at our house. (Check out this amazing time-lapse video of robins hatching.) We were desperate to rescue it, only to discover that in order for birds to learn to fly, they have to fall.

Guess we're not the only ones.