Plant of the Week

Black Sampson echinacea

The weekly lawn-mowing occurred on schedule today, a necessary Saturday chore that ProfessorRoush routinely approaches with resignation combined with mild boredom.  I allegedly mow because the alternative to mowing (NOT-MOWing) leads ultimately to chaos in the garden and results in disdainful glances and shaking fists from passing neighbors and even threats of visits from authorities who have bestowed themselves with the ability to levy fines and prison sentences and the like. But truthfully, not really caring about the public reaction, I tolerate mowing because it gives me an opportunity to see all of the garden when I mow round and round and round about it, noting the species and cultivars in bloom or lamenting the loss of others even while I sunburn and sweat my youth away.

This week it was evident  to me that the garden gave up waiting on the judgement of the gardener and chose a Plant of the Week on its own, bestowing the honor on the Black Sampson echinacea, Echinacea angustifolia, now in bloom all over the garden.   My decision to NOT-MOW parts of the garden, ostensively to create a "rain garden" but in full disclosure just to mow less space and to spend less time doing it, has resulted in a slow increase in the native forbs as I intended, and now I'm "reaping the echinacea," as it were. 

The garden has welcomed Black Sampson within it, and sheltered it from storm, scorching sun, and snow, but its selection as Plant of the Week is also endorsed and promoted by the fauna of the garden, favored as it is by some sort of horrid little black beetles crawling on it and leaving holes in the petals (the same beetles also seem to be simultaneously merrily attacking the native Western Yarrow, Achillea millefolium), but also desired, and more to my personal joy, by native prairie butterflies, who are happily feeding on the spiky Black Sampson.

Variegated Fritillary, Euptoieta claudia

I am not a butterfly expert by anyone's estimation, least of all my own, but I believe I have correctly identified this one as a Variegated Fritillary, Euptoieta claudia, common to the region and a perfect match for web images and descriptions of the species, right down to the "pale yellow median band crossing both wings."  "Claudia", as I quickly nicknamed her, didn't seem to mind the lack of petals on this fading echinacea bloom as she moved rapidly around the spikes gathering nectar.

I am far less sure about  the identity of this white skipper shown at the right, but I was delighted to capture this clear and focused silhouette photo of its proboscis extended into the flower.  It is likely a Common Checkered-Skipper, Pyrgus communis, but while the folded wings look perfectly like other web images of the species, the unfolded wings of "my" skipper didn't have near the gray/brown coloration on the upper surfaces, nor the characteristic "blue-green sheen on upper body hairs" noted by experts  It resembles nothing else, however, in the Kansas butterfly guide that I chose as a reference.

Who really knows about skippers anyway?  There is evidently a White-Checkered Skipper that is quite similar,  the latter stated to be the only white skipper found in neighboring Missouri, but yet published distribution maps of the White-Checkered Skipper don't show it anywhere north of southern Oklahoma.  Another reference gave the Common-Checkered Skipper a different classification entirely, listing it as Burnsius communis (Grote, 1872), and stated "This species is separated from the White-Checkered Skipper with confidence only by dissection and examination of the male genitalia."   Since I have little or no confidence in my ability to assess male skipper genitalia, let alone find them, I'll have to just live on without knowing, won't I?

In the meantime, however, it's very nice to find the echinacea and the skippers and fritillaries engaged in the normal activities and seasonal pairings of the Kansas prairie.   My dislike of  mowing just fades fast away when I find native butterflies enjoying the garden that the prairie allows me to call "mine."

Butterflies are Free....

Variegated Fritillary butterfly

Well, perhaps not free, but they are periodically plentiful at certain times.  I am a bad gardener in the sense that I don't pay a lot of attention under normal circumstances to the butterflies in my garden, although I do give occasional thought to selecting native plants and other plants that will attract them. 

Pipevine Swallowtail

The recent bloom of my 'Blizzard' Mockorange and 'Globemaster' Alium coincided to lure in the butterflies like.....well, like flies. The Pipevine Swallowtail at the left, however, preferred the hillside of Purple-Leaf Honeysuckle for its evening meal.  I took all eight of the different pictures within about 1/2 hour one evening.  Identifying them took much longer. 

Painted Lady butterfly

I'm not very good at identifying them, but I've made my best attempt here and I owe any accuracy strictly to a 1991 Emporia State University publication titled 'The Kansas School Naturalist, Vol 37, #4;  Checklist of Kansas Butterflies. Better experts like GaiaGardener (whose previous posts stimulated me to take a look at my own butterflies) will have to check my identifications carefully. 

Dogface Butterfly

The phrase "Butterflies are free, and so are we" is a line from the theme song to a 1972 movie that was also named Butterflies Are Free. It was one of the first movie roles for beautiful actress Goldie Hawn, memorable to a young teenager primarily for the glimpse of the panty-clad gluteus maximus of the then-young and still just-as-gorgeously-perky Ms. Hawn.  Beauty, indeed, exists in all creatures of God.

Checkered White butterfly

I suppose if you are going to visit a white Mockorange near two colonies of insect-eating Purple Martins, you would be best served to be mostly white yourself, invisible, as long as you stand still.

Virginia Lady butterfly

Some butterflies show signs of being the worst for wear, even though the season is early.  Battle-scarred and missing limbs, the goal of life remains the same; leave behind another generation, and you've done your duty for your species.

Skipper?

The identification of many butterflies seems to hinge on pretty small differences and sometimes, judging by the pictures posted on the WWW, it is important to know the regional differences in color intensity and patterns that may exist.  The "skippers" group defeated me in my attempts to identify the butterfly at the right.

Red Admiral butterfly

I am only a novice here in a foreign land filled by fairy-like aerial wraiths, but I will undoubtedly return again, lured by the ephemeral nature of the prey and the rich legacy of the field.  And maybe, just because I like being able to spot a brief blur and proclaim it "Red Admiral", a regal-sounding name if ever one existed.