Hello, again! It’s been a while since we connected and that’s my doing, I’m afraid. This summer’s busyness – working on an August ballot measure – was combined with at least one damaged ligament caused by a momentary lapse into thinking I was about forty years younger than I actually am! But here I am, out in the parks again, though maybe taking shorter walks than usual.
What caught my attention this autumn is the palette that transforms summer meadows into fall ones. Like you perhaps, I’m always excited when the trees stop producing chlorophyll and the leaves begin to show their “true colors” – reds, oranges, yellows and golds. But actually, the open meadows in our parks lead the way when it comes to a vivid autumn. They change to autumn’s palette before trees do! Look at the elegant colors with which nature painted the landscape this year at Charles Ilsley Park one Sunday morning in September. The trees were still green – but look at that meadow!
For some reason, Charles Ilsley Park frequently blooms in broad brushstrokes of color. One summer, lavender Bee Balm (Monarda fistulosa) blanketed the slopes. Another summer, the eastern meadow featured bright splashes of hundreds of yellow False Sunflower(Heliopsis helianthoides). But I’d never before seen it in these autumn shades! Ripening stalks of tall Big Bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), a native grass which must have thrived in this summer’s rain and heat, created great dramatic swaths of lavender brown, set off by flows of Canada Goldenrod (Solidago canadensis) which curved around the slopes and through the landscape.
Two of my favorite goldenrods contribute to the glow of autumn fields in our parks. Showy Goldenrod (Solidago speciosa) with its beautiful lemon yellow plumes can be a-hum with pollinators in late summer and fall. Stiff Goldenrod (Solidago rigida) has fuzzy leaves without a stalk (sessile leaves) and a large head of darker gold flowers beloved by bees. Goldenrods of all kinds are an abundant source of nectar for pollinators as the light becomes thinner and the weather cools. Sadly, goldenrod is frequently accused of causing “hay fever.” But no, its pollen is too heavy to be carried by the wind and falls to the ground. The real culprit is Common Ragweed (with the ironic Latin name Ambrosia artemisiifolia) which blooms around the same time but is green not yellow.
Other Autumn Wild Flowers Add to the Golden Glow
[Note: Please do not pick or try to transplant any plants you find in our parks. Our stewardship team has worked for years to foster them right where they are. Call the Parks and Recreation Office if you would like a list of nurseries that sell native seed or plants. Thanks and please pass the word!]
I’m always impressed with the number of yellow wildflowers that arrive just in time to brighten autumn walks. And luckily some of our yellow late summer flowers continue to contribute their varied shades to the mix in autumn as well.
In Autumn, Nature Matches Yellow and Orange with Their Complementary Colors, Purple and Blue
Spring and summer flowers create a potpourri of color – but in autumn, blue and purple flowers seem to appear more often within the carpets of gold. Botanist Robin Wall Kimmerer notes that complementary colors (opposites on the color wheel) heighten the intensity of each other. She posits that, perhaps plants in these colors attract more pollinators because of their mutual intensity, making them as noticeable to insects as they are to us. Once spotted, bees and butterflies drink the nectar, picking up pollen and spreading it, a process that keeps these plants coming up together each fall.
A Few Late-Season Butterflies Seek Sustenance before Winter Arrives
Butterflies have many strategies as winter approaches. Some migrate long distances like the Monarch, and others migrate short distances. Amazingly, a few adult butterflies can survive wintry days under loose bark or inside tree holes or hollow logs. They produce an internal “anti-freeze” called glycerol to protect their tissues and organs and then thaw in the spring. Some adult butterflies can’t tolerate winter weather, but leave eggs, caterpillars, or pupae that can also survive the winter cold using their internal “anti-freeze” and a place out of the wind.
The Monarch Reigns Supreme Among Insect Migrators
In spring, the Monarchs that we saw were the fourth leg in a kind of relay race from Mexico to Michigan. The first generation left Mexico and flew north for about four weeks, mated, laid their eggs and passed away. They’re offspring completed the next leg of the journey. It takes three to four separate generations of Monarchs to make the spring journey to Michigan. The Monarchs we saw in late spring finished the relay and began to mate here in our parks, gardens and natural areas.
Right now the last generation of those Monarch butterflies, known as the “super generation,” is on the move back to Mexico for the winter. But the south-bound, autumn Monarchs have a very different task from the ones who left Mexico last spring. They will live eight times longer and travel ten times farther than their relatives. According to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service website, (USFWS), a combination of falling temperature and shorter days triggers the birth of a “super generation.” After the egg hatches, the caterpillar stores fat by eating aging milkweed leaves . The adult that emerges (ecloses) from its pupa retains the caterpillar’s fat and bulks up more on wildflower nectar. That fat powers them to fly 50-100 miles a day for two months to go all the way to Mexico.
Mara Koenig from the USFWS website tries to picture it for us. “Imagine the journey – flying more than 3,000 miles to Mexico, not knowing where you can rest or where you will have your next meal. The sun is your guide on daily flights, traveling about 50 miles each day. You often catch free rides on thermal air currents, sometimes flying a mile high. When rain splashes down, the wind blows strong or your body temperature drops below 86 degrees, you are unable to fly.”
But many manage to fly on and find their way to a precise location in Mexico even though they’ve never been there before! Science still isn’t sure how they do that. There they rest in a dormant state – hallelujah! a well-deserved rest!- to spend the winter in Mexico. They wake up in the spring, begin eating, mate and produce the young that will take on the first leg of the relay journey back to Michigan next year.
Super-generation Monarch butterflies live for an astonishing eight to nine months! Amazing for an insect! Mission accomplished, the super generation monarchs die in Central Mexico. What a heroic journey for this fragile insect!
Other Butterflies Developed Different Solutions to Deal with Michigan Winters
Several other late season butterflies either make much shorter flights to the south for the winter, overwinter here, or leave eggs or pupae behind to thaw and mature in the spring. All of them, though, rely on late season nectar to power the process. Here’s a sampling of eight of them – and isn’t it nice how they match the fall landscape!
The Common Buckeye (Junonia coenia) migrates south in the fall, coasting as much as possible on northern tailwinds. It moves north again in spring though I’ve only seen them in autumn. 
Clouded Sulphurs (Colias philodice) migrate south in the fall where they reproduce and a new generation flies north in the spring. 
The Mourning Cloak (Nymphalis antiopa) finds a crevice under bark or in a log, slows its metabolism and produces an “antifreeze” to protect its tissues. It thaws in early spring, often the first butterfly seen. 
The Eastern Comma (Polygonia comma) also overwinters in Michigan using the “antifreeze” in its blood and a log or hollow tree hole. This is its darker winter form. 
The American Copper’s (Lycaena phlaeas) last brood of the summer overwinters in leaf litter at the base of the plant on which they were born. Some say they survive as a pupa; others say as a caterpillar. 
The Silver-spotted Skipper (Epargyreus clarus) overwinters as a pupa in leaf litter at the base of its host plant. 
These Pearl Crescents (Phyciodes tharos) were mating in late August. The male on the left (staring into my intrusive camera) was gently touching the female with his antennae and she responded each time with a flutter. Their caterpillar’s third instar will go into dormancy (diapause) inside a leaf or leaf litter for the winter and then start eating again in the spring before making a pupa.
Nature Creates Beauty in Every Season
Some find autumn a slightly melancholy time. As leaves fall, flowers wilt and nights get longer, some people see autumn as a season of slow decline and even death .
Nature and I beg to differ! Life is still being created and preserved in the autumn. Seeds blow through the air, wash down a stream or fall to fertile ground. Butterflies and moths do slowly disappear as fall progresses. But their young wait on tree bark or in leaf litter as eggs, caterpillars or pupae to sustain neighborhood birds this winter – or to transform in spring to new generations. Trees and shrubs aren’t dying as their leaves fall and limbs become bare. They’re simply saving energy by pulling down to live in their roots to wait out the winter with us. Chipmunks and other animals, fat with feasting during the summer and fall, take a rest from foraging and raising young; they curl up in underground burrows to wait out the cold. And as birds fly south overhead, calling farewell high above us, other birds are winging down from farther north, one even from the Arctic, to join our year ’round birds and us humans as we take snowy winter walks.
So I hope I’ve encouraged you to pull your favorite sweater or jacket from the back of your closet, walk out into the cool crisp air and consider joining me in the beautiful autumn fields. Bask in autumn’s thin, white light and the beauty of gold and purple meadows. And come home to an apple cider toast to the gifts of autumn, before the bundling-up-and-boots months of winter arrive.