Butterflies Do It in the Grass

by Pa Rock

Farmer in Summer

I will admit to not being a very keen observer of nature, but every now and then, especially living in a rural area, I stumble across something that sticks with me.  Years ago, for instance, I found a stone in the woods that had a small, unusual ridged growth attached to it.  Being a freshly minted high school teacher, I took it to my classroom and placed it on the chalk tray where I kept a few curiosities for my history students to chatter about.  That was in the late fall or winter, and the rock spent the next few months being ignored in my warm classroom,  Ignored, that is, until the door was opened one morning the following spring and my first class of the day quickly discovered that they were sharing the room with dozens of baby praying mantises!

One of our young science teachers was called in to investigate and quickly focused on the rock sitting in the chalk tray.  It turns out that the odd growth on the rock was a praying mantis egg case.  The school was in a rural setting, and a major activity for the rest of the day was carefully removing as many of the small insects as possible out into their more natural environment.

I suspect that most of my students learned more science that day forty years ago than they did history.  I still occasionally come across praying mantis egg cases out in nature, and now I leave them in nature!

Yesterday I had another unplanned encounter with the reproductive cycle of insects.  I had stepped out of the house via the back door and was headed for the mailbox which sits along the road in front of the house.  As I came around the side of the house in the shade and stepped into the sunlight that was enveloping the front yard, I happened upon two small orange butterflies who were flying in circles and seemed to be engaged in some sort of airborne mating ritual.

Not being in any particular hurry to check on the mail, I stopped to enjoy the aerial acrobatics of the butterflies.  After a minute or so one seemed to tire of the game and landed in the grass about five feet where I was silently standing and watching.  I'm guessing that was the female because almost immediately the other flew down, with the skill of a kamikaze pilot, and landed on top of her.   Even from my remote viewing point of five feet away and nearly six feet up, I could tell that something of a very personal nature was occurring.  

I stood there transfixed by the action in the grass for several minutes before finally growing bored and heading on out to the mailbox.   I took my time, pulled a weed or two along the way, and eventually reached the mailbox only to discover that the mail lady had yet to arrive.  On the way back to the house I slowed to check on the butterflies.  They were still at it!  Then, as I watched, they took a break and flew around for a few seconds before landing back on the ground for another round!  A minute or two later they separated again, this time apparently for good, and flew off their separate ways - her to lay eggs on the underside of a really good leaf, and him spend the rest of the day bragging to his buddies.

Both of yesterday's butterflies will soon be dead.  Next spring their legacy will emerge as caterpillars, and the ones that don't get eaten by the chickens or fall prey to other predators will spin cocoons and eventually emerge as butterflies where they will spend their summer frolicking in the warm breezes and looking for places to have sex away from the prying eyes of the voyeuristic human who shares their space!