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Insects

For years, scientists have been decrying the dangers of air pollution and water pollution. We have seen the impacts that a buildup of harmful greenhouse gases like carbon dioxide (CO2), methane (CH4), nitrous oxide (N2O), and a suite of halogen-bearing gases (like fluorocarbons) that are derived from industrial activities can bring.  Evidence of man-made climate change confronts us on a daily basis as devastating heat waves, droughts, and forest fires devastate our nation. Water pollution from an overuse of toxic chemicals by industrial, agricultural and non-professional users have poisoned waterways, limited access to clean drinking water and disrupted eco-systems. Within the last 15 years however, another insidious form of pollution has been gaining the attention of researchers around the world. They have discovered that night-time light pollution is a serious threat with wide-ranging impacts to human health as well as to our natural environment. Many researchers believe that “immediate measures should be taken to limit artificial light at night in main cities and inside houses.” 

A question came up at lunch the other day that I have been pondering ever since. Brynn, one of the designers at Embassy, was asked for a very specific landscape planting. The client wanted yellow flowers that did not attract bees and wasps. I have to admit that my first reaction was disbelief that anyone in this day and age wouldn’t want pollinators visiting their garden. After all, bees and wasps are a signal that a garden is healthy and that the ecosystem is in balance. Perhaps, I thought, she just needed some information. 

Growing up in mid-Missouri, June was the “firefly month.” Some of my fondest childhood memories are of catching fireflies and putting them in glass canning jars to create my own lantern for the evening. I loved watching them flash on and off until I had to let them fly off into the night sky again. Hearing my story,  my science-loving granddaughter was anxious to head into the yard and try her luck at it. Out we went, jar in hand only to meet disappointment head on. There were no fireflies to be seen. Like many areas across the country, our night skies are no longer filled with these well-loved creatures.

June 20th is 

WORLD BEE DAY

This year’s theme, "Bee inspired by nature to nourish us all", says it all. Without the work that these little fellows do, our lives would be radically changed. 

After discovering so many new varieties of milkweed, my newest obsession for the spring season is to start a butterfly garden in my front yard that features a variety of milkweed plants. I think that it would not only be a great stopover site for migratory monarchs but would also nurture dozens of other pollinators as well. As an added bonus, it will blend perfectly with the “little patch of prairie” we put in a few years ago. 

Last Saturday, I spent the afternoon reading picture books with my granddaughters. One we read was called  Home Is Calling by Katherine Pryor,  about the migration patterns of monarch butterflies. (It’s a beautiful book filled with gorgeous illustrations and factual information woven together in lilting prose. The teacher in me was impressed!) Ironically, the very next day I happened upon a report from the World Wildlife Fund in Mexico stating that the eastern monarch population in central Mexico has nearly doubled this year, occupying twice as much forest land as last year. According to researchers' estimates, that means that approximately 28 million monarch butterflies are currently overwintering on about four acres of forest. (A number to celebrate, but nowhere near numbers from the late 90s when butterflies covered over 45 acres of forest.) While the number of butterflies in Mexico may not seem pertinent to us here in the United States, it actually is encouraging news for us too. It could be a sign that we can still save this iconic species from extinction  –  if we understand them and purposely work to help them..

Yesterday, while I was browsing the web, I ran across a relatively obscure article that started me on an unexpected tangent. The headline read: California’s monarch butterfly population plummets; fire wipes out Topanga habitat. The destruction of a prime butterfly habitat, to me, just added another victim to the life-changing tragedy that so many Californians have suffered. 

We have a nearby neighbor whom we affectionately call “Blower Man.”  We don’t actually know him – he lives directly across the quarry from us – but we definitely know when he’s outside doing yard work. The deafening sound of his enormous leaf blower drones on hour after hour, often chasing us inside until he finishes. As annoying as it is to be sent into retreat mode on a picture-perfect fall day, I find it heartbreaking to think about the environmental impacts of stripping a property bare of every fallen leaf. Autumn leaves are, I believe, Mother Nature's gift to the earth.