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| Timber Creek burbles down to the Washougal |
At first we saw only Echo Azures, those very small blue butterflies. We moved further up to our highest favorite spot and waited for half an hour. Seeing a few whites, but not able to get close enough for a good look. At this season Timber Creek burbles under a bridge, making for a very pleasant riparian experience. Later in the season we will hopefully see more butterflies here. The creek bed will still be lush and green, but no water will burble under the bridge.
Sandra ate her sandwich as we motored back down to our first spot, which is a turnout often used for camping just above the Washougal. It was 11 AM when we arrived and as we hopped out I declared that it was prime time. And indeed it was.
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| A WMF perches on a dandelion |
There were at least a dozen Western Meadow Fritilaries in the weedy car park. I'm always surprised by how small these Boloria frits are; this group was just a bit bigger than the azure 1echos, which are small even by the standard of blue butterflies. As we watched the WMFs, we couldn't help noting that there were around ten slightly larger, paler butterflies mixed in. They were perhaps 25% bigger that the frits.
Sometimes I wonder what I was thinking. In this instance, I nabbed a single photo with the camera, which takes pretty good pictures of small animals at twenty feet, but I did not attempt to stalk one of the paler butterflies for a shot with my cell phone, which takes better pictures if you are able to get within three feet.
Two other butterflies were in the car park. We saw two individuals of a small black and gray butterfly. Last year I sent Caitlin a picture of this butterfly, hoping it was a metalmark. This year I know better. It's the Two Banded Checkered Skipper. This picture was taken with the camera at about ten feet and a good thing it was, as my trusty nimrod, the semi-redoubtable SKG was unable to net the little devil.
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| Two banded Checkered Skipper May 2024 |
We saw one other lep, a tiny black job much smaller that the the echo. It had a few teensy white spots. We'll see of Caitlin can identify it from the description, as it, too avoided Sandra's net.
Eventually the butterflies flew off, as they inevitably do, and we drove around, past the falls and up Dougan Creek to our favorite final spot. Not much was happening there, so as we consumed the second sandwich and a cookie with M and Ms, we checked out the pictures in the camera. As we looked, I became convinced that those pale butterflies back by the Washougal were Painted Ladies.
We saw Painted Ladies twice last summer. The first time was in lavender blooming uphill from my son's house in mid July. The second time was in late August 500 feet below Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood. In both instances the butterflies we saw and photographed were beautiful animals with crisp vibrant colors.
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| Painted Lady, Upper Washougal, May 2024 |
So what's the deal? When we got home I referred to Caitlin's book and then, this morning, to James and Nunnallee. And this is what I put together:
As we all know, the Painted Lady is cosmopolitan, being found as a native all over the world. It is also renowned as a migrant. In Europe it is known to migrate from Norway to sub-Saharan Africa. Hence, I call it the arctic tern of butterflies. And because of these propensities, I speculate that ever so long ago it was a pregnant Painted Lady that landed in Hawaii, becoming the distant Vanessa ancestor of our Kamehameha Butterfly.
The painted Lady is well known to the Pacific Northwest, and is more common than the similar endemic\ West Coast Lady. As in Europe, the Painted Lady solves the over wintering problem by adultmigration. According to James and Nunnallee, our Painted Ladies winter in Southern California, Arizona and Mexico.
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| Painted Lady, Livingston Mountain July 2023 |
When spring comes, the adult Painted Ladies migrate back north. Suffice it to say, this is an arduous journey and when they arrive, they are, in the words of our very own Caitlin LaBar, "tatty." Until this morning I wasn't sure that was actually a word, but it is in the Oxford English dictionary. Shabby, worn, and in poor condition. And that explains the appearance of the Painted Ladies in the car park.
For butterflies, and perhaps especially for these butterflies who may not have long to live, time is of the essence. On arrival they must get busy and begin a new cycle. Hopefully those males in the car park were finding some sustenance and whatever else they needed to get the next generation on its way.
As I put this together, I couldn't help forming an analogy with Sandra and me. Like the Painted Ladies, we are migrants, returning to the PNW in the spring. And when we first arrive we are unkempt and exhausted...tatty.
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| Painted Lady with Asters Mount Hood August 2023 |
After we finished lunch, we watched a few white butterflies fly up and down the road. Sandra decided that the way to catch one was to position herself in the path of an on coming butterfly, much a like a catcher intercepting the runner attempting to steal home. As her butterfly approached, she stood her ground, net in hand. At the last minute, the butterfly veered off and flew down to the creek. I declared the butterfly out, as it had left the base path.
I left Sandra fuming on the road as I, too, went down to the creek where I photographed a tribe of azure echos enjoying a puddle party in a patch of wet moss. Having completed my task, I ascended the bank to find my sweetie holding the middle of her net in triumph, a Margined White successfully captured.
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| Margined white, May 2024 |
Sandra held the butterfly for a picture and then we let it fly away, ending a perfect Mothers Day Butterfly excursion.
jeff
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