Gusty winds tease common milkweed seeds from their pods.
Its beauty isn’t on the outside. Common milkweed (Asclepias Syriaca), despite its attractiveness to monarch butterflies, isn’t the showiest of plants. Its large, smooth leaves and warty pods lack the delicacy of many native plants. Milkweed’s beauty is hidden within its pods.
Tiny green pods arise from fertilized pink, aromatic flowers.
Over the summer, small, perfumed pink flowers are fertilized and form tiny green pods or follicles. As they ripen, they grow to three-to-five inches in length. Inside, oval-shaped flat, brown seeds tethered to white, satiny strands designed for wind dispersal are arranged around a central column. Each is neatly tucked into a crevice on a membrane attached to the top and bottom of the pod.
Oval-shaped seeds attached to satiny strands are neatly arranged around a central column.
Wind fluffs the silky fibers into parachutes to disperse the seeds.
When the seeds mature, the pods dry and crack open. As wind enters the split pods, the silky strands unfurl and balloon into parachutes. One by one the seeds spin out of the pod like shimmering wind-borne dancers that glow in the autumn sunlight. I love to watch them sail — sometimes floating on a gentle breeze, sometimes scurrying on gusty winds. The empty pod is pretty too: Cream-to-gold colored and smooth inside, except for the center membrane, which is grooved to anchor individual seeds.
The empty pod is satiny smooth except for the grooved central column where the seeds were attached.
These lovely seeds used to be rare in Twin Cities urban areas, but now many residents grow one or more of 14 native milkweed species in their yard and boulevard gardens to attract monarchs and other butterflies.¹
Milkweed plants are the sole host plant for monarch butterflies.
¹When handling milkweed, it’s best to wear gloves and eye protection. The plant’s milky latex sap can cause eye and skin irritation on contact. According to several sources, the sap is slightly toxic to humans if eaten in large amounts. Animals are also affected by it, but most avoid the plant. This substance helps to make monarch butterfly caterpillars unpalatable to birds.
Last May, blossoms delicate in form and scent ornamented woodlands and trails. Their luminous beauty lured early bees and butterflies to pollinate them. All summer the tiny ovaries slowly swelled. Fragile blossoms morphed into bright green beads, whose soft curves plumped and ripened to globes of rose, fiery red, purple, frosty blue and pearly white. Sun, heat, rain and pollinators concocted a gift lovely to look at and brimming with energy — a feast for birds and mammals throughout autumn and winter. Here’s a small sampling of nature’s autumn gifts:
Migrating songbirds, as well as turkeys and grouse, favor the white berry-like drupes of gray dogwood (Cornus racemosa).
Wild plum trees (Prunus americana) provide food for mammals, such as deer, raccoons and foxes. Songbirds, turkeys and other birds will also eat them.
Pale dogwood berries (Cornus obliqua) are high in fat content and are eaten by songbirds and mammals, such as chipmunks, white-footed mice and squirrels.
Highbush cranberry (Viburnum opulus spp.) is not a true cranberry. According to the USDA’s plant guide, the fruit often isn’t eaten until late winter. Repeated thawing and freezing makes it more palatable.
Though carrion flowers (Smilax sp.) smell rotten, their berries do not, and are winter food for songbirds and a few mammals, such as Virginia opossum and raccoons.
False Solomon’s seal (Maianthemum racemosa) fruit are often pink with red spots, but also can be solid red. They are eaten by woodland birds, such as the veery, and by white-footed mice.
Great-spangled fritillaries sport a checkerboard pattern on their dorsal wings. A creamy yellow band separates silvery spots or “spangles” on the ventral surfaces.
In late summer, chances are good that you’ll notice lots of orange-and-black butterflies in gardens, meadows or roadside areas. But, not every one that you see is a monarch, or its look-alike, the viceroy. Fritillaries, another group of large orange-and-black butterflies, are on the wing into September in the Upper Midwest, favoring open sunny gardens, grasslands, and meadows.
Fritillary comes from the Latin word “fritillus,” which means checkerboard or dice — and most butterflies in this family sport a checkered design on their wings. Of Minnesota’s 12 fritillary species, the most widespread are the great-spangled, Aphrodite, Atlantic, silver-bordered, meadow and variegated.
I’ve spotted great-spangled fritillaries (Speyeria cybele) in our garden and along country roads where I’ve recently walked. The largest of Minnesota’s fritillaries, with a wingspan of 2.5-to-4.0 inches, great-spangled adults display an orange, brown and black pattern of stripes, dots and bars on their upper wings. The undersides of the hindwings shimmer with two rows of large silver spots (referred to as spangles) separated by a wide, creamy yellow band not seen in other fritillaries.
Faded colors and worn, jagged-edged wings indicate an elderly great-spangled fritillary nectaring on this thistle.
In June, great-spangled males appear first, followed by females about a month later. Females lay eggs in late summer and fall, placing them singly, on or near the base of common violet species (viola) — violets alone are the host plant for their larvae. The caterpillars hatch in the autumn, but stay hidden in leaf litter until the following spring when violets are freshly growing. Caterpillars are black with reddish-orange knobs that give rise to black spines. They are secretive and only feed at night.
Great-spangled fritillary caterpillars, and many other fritillary larvae, feed only on violet (viola) species.
Unlike their violet-dependent larvae, adult fritillaries nectar on many different flower species, including milkweed, clover, black-eyed Susan’s, vetches, thistles, Joe-Pye, monarda, members of the mint family, dogbane and many types of coneflowers. Fritillaries are preyed upon (especially the caterpillars) by dragonflies, paper wasps and other large insects, spiders and birds.
What can you do to help these beautiful pollinators? If you have violets in your garden, don’t weed them all out. Without violets, there would be no fritillaries! Leave a few in your garden or yard year-round for great-spangled and other types of fritillary caterpillars to eat.
Most common in eastern North America, great-spangled fritillaries range from British Columbia across southern Canada and the northern United States to the Atlantic, south to central California, northern New Mexico and northern Georgia.
Leave a few violets tucked into your garden so that fritillaries can lay their eggs on them in the fall. Caterpillars will feed on them in the spring.
I’ve battled bishop’s weed (Aegopodiumpodagraria) in my garden for 35 years.¹ As much as I detest it, (please don’t plant it), I’ve learned that what’s despised by one creature may mean survival to another. Bishop’s weed, a member of the parsley family, is one of a small number of host plants or “homes” for native black swallowtail butterfly caterpillars.²
A black swallowtail caterpillar (Papilio polyxenes) feasts on bishop’s weed, a member of the parsley family.
As I dug out the weeds a couple of weeks ago, I spotted a caterpillar with light blue-green and black stripes dotted with yellow. The clues to its identity were its location on a member of the parsley family, the only plant type that black swallowtails live on and eat, and the color and pattern of its stripes. (It looked similar to a monarch, but monarch caterpillars only eat milkweed and their stripes are yellow, black and white.) I searched through the rest of the bishop’s weed and found a second caterpillar. In May I’d seen an adult black swallowtail visiting the weed, where it must have deposited eggs.
Two rows of well-defined yellow spots help to distinguish the black swallowtail from other swallowtail species in our area.
Not a rare butterfly, but a handsome one, the black swallowtail (sometimes called the parsley swallowtail) is native to the eastern United States and Canada. Its body and wings are black with highlights of yellow, blue and orange. The tail ends in two narrow lobes that give it the common name of swallowtail. Two rows of bright yellow spots mark the wings. The hindwings are blue in the area between the yellow rows near the tail. Each hindwing ends in a circular reddish spot. The underside of each wing has rows of light yellow spots, with bands of orange separated by spatterings of blue. Females usually show more blue coloring and males usually have more yellow. The wing span is 3.5 – 4.5 inches, with the female generally larger than the male.
The undersides of the hindwings are marked with bright orange and a dusting of blue.
In the Upper Midwest, black swallowtails produce two generations of offspring between May and October. The second generation overwinters in a brown chrysalis until the following spring. The caterpillars in my garden probably hatched in May. Depending on weather conditions and host plant availability, the eggs hatch in three-to-nine days. The caterpillars eat and grow through five stages, or instars, as they increase in size and change in appearance, which may take up to 30 days. The mature caterpillar forms its chrysalis and molts one final time. The ones I saw will leave their chrysalises in two-to-three weeks as mature black swallowtails ready to produce the next generation. Adults nectar on clover, milkweed, thistle, bee balm and other perennials. Watch for them to be on the wing in July — and, consider growing one of the more well-behaved members of the parsley family, such as dill, carrot, parsley or sweet fennel, on which this lovely creature can live and dine!
1Also known as goutweed and ground elder, this non-native member of the parsley family was imported and marketed as a fast-growing ground cover that was frequently planted with European buckthorn (Rhombus cathartica) and creeping bellflower (Campanula rapunculoides). There’s also a variegated form called snow-on-the-mountain. Over the years, we’ve had it chemically treated, dug out and the soil replaced, but it returned each time. Now, I just try to prevent it from spreading.
²Other members of the parsley family include carrot, dill, sweet fennel, Queen Anne’s lace and, of course, parsley.
Wild rose buds (Rosa blanda) usually open in June in Minnesota.
Wild roses bloom across the oak savanna in early June. Their petals blush the delicate color of a northern spring sunrise. To my mind they are classic blooms: simple petals, sun-gold centers, and a delicate aroma. They dot woodland edges, roadsides and trail borders. Like the majority of springtime wildflowers, they vanish quickly. However, they are soon succeeded by a riot of red rose hips — fruit that will decorate the plants until next spring, or until eaten by wintering birds and mammals. Besides providing rose hips later in the season, the blooms are attractive to many types of bees, butterflies, tiny wasps and other native insects that seek nectar and pollen in the small, plentiful blossoms.
Metallic green bees (Agapostemon) are among the many native pollinators that visit wild roses.
Bright red rose hips decorate each plant until the following spring, or until eaten by wildlife, such as birds, squirrels, rabbits and bears. Each hip contains several seeds.
Rime ice etches the evergreen leaves of boxwood shrubs.
On the last morning of the year, soft gray clouds insulate the city. The air is still and quiet except for a few American robins and goldfinches calling. In the silence of the night, fog crept in and dressed every tree branch and plant with beautiful needle-like ice crystals.
When fog or mist droplets freeze instantly on contact with the wind-facing side of a cold surface, rime ice is formed. The milky white color of rime is caused by the air pockets between the ice particles.
How is rime ice different from hoar frost? First, they differ in appearance: Hoar frost often looks feathered and lacy, in contrast with the sharp needles of rime. They also form by different processes. Hoar frost typically forms on cold, clear nights rather than during cloudy conditions. Water vapor freezes and crystallizes on surfaces without becoming water droplets first. Both rime ice and hoar frost add a magical beauty to the monochrome winter world.
Rime ice’s sharp needle-like crystals decorate a garden obelisk.
A quiet trail in Minneapolis, Minnesota, glows with fresh snow and late-afternoon sun.
The “keeper snow” came early this year. In late November, we walked in lightweight clothing and running shoes. Two days later a storm blew in ahead of a Canadian cold front and dropped eight inches of new snow. We’ve entered the stark season. Green is a memory buried under an ice-cold blanket. Gone from our yard are the bumblebees, painted lady butterflies and other pollinators. I’ve put the garden to bed for the winter.
Black-capped chickadees (Poecile atricapillus) are high-energy winter residents in our back yard.
Just ahead of the storm, a mixed flock of robins, dark-eyed juncos, black-capped chickadees and small woodpeckers—both downy and hairy—descended into our back yard. Robins tossed aside leaves to uncover stray insects, seeds and fruit. Juncos sought seeds on the garden wall. Chickadees and woodpeckers hunted for insect larvae and other delights in the bark of our old apple tree.
This afternoon at dusk, a female northern cardinal, softly colored and alone, delicately plucked crabapples one-by-one in our front yard. She was lucky to find any because the portly gray squirrels have stripped most of the tree bare. I am grateful for these winged winter residents that bring life to our garden on even the coldest winter days.
A female downy woodpecker (Dryobates pubescens) excavates for insect eggs and larvae in a dead portion of our apple tree.
A painted lady’s (Vanessa cardui) underwing sports four eyespots and pink patches. It is nectaring on asters (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium).
Mild October days bring butterflies to our garden. We commonly see red admirals, painted ladies, commas and tortoiseshells, but in 2022, I’ve seen fewer numbers of butterflies all season. The only painted lady (Vanessa cardui) that I’ve spotted appeared in late October on a mild, sunny day (77°F/25°C).
It spent hours nectaring on late-blooming asters in the company of many bees, and flew energetically around the garden every few minutes. While most of the native bees perished in a hard frost (24°F/-4°C) more than two weeks ago, a few hearty bumblebees survived, as did the honey bee colonies. Bees and butterfly got along well and were simply focused on collecting nectar for energy. As I gardened nearby, the gentle humming of the bees was soothing and complemented the rustling of falling scarlet-red maple leaves.
A painted lady’s upper wings carry black and orange markings with a few white spots near the wingtips.
Two days later, the painted lady disappeared from our garden on a warm wind heading south. I miss them during the long northern winter. Also known as the “thistle butterfly,” (because thistles are a favorite food source for both caterpillars and adults), painted ladies migrate to wintering grounds in the southern United States and Mexico to return in late spring.
Two toddlers exploring rocks under their parents’ watchful eyes. (They both enjoy nature as young adults now!)
Love for the natural world begins when we are very young. Even the smallest of hands-on experiences ignites a child’s natural curiosity and sense of wonder, and these early encounters stay with us. I remember evenings with my mother…sitting on our front steps and listening to her stories about trees, stars, moths and whatever else presented itself. I know the wonder those times created deep inside of me; a reverence and joy I continue to nurture.
Recently, I watched a mom walk with her toddler, stop and lift him up to touch the leaves of a young maple tree, and pluck a leaf for him to carry. Then the little guy spied an ant hill on the sidewalk. He and his mom watched the bustling activity for a few minutes before moving on to explore a boulevard garden.
Colorful tree leaves are a simple way to introduce nature to young children.
Seeing them raised memories of giving our son leaves, pinecones, acorns and rocks to hold under our watchful eyes. He loved his “pet caterpillars.” He squeezed the first wooly bear I showed him too hard, but we worked on “gentle touch” and held other caterpillars, baby toads and small frogs. Butterflies also were an early delight, both in the garden and while out hiking.
Black swallowtails (Papilio polyxenes) and other butterflies are easy to show to children.
Each summer we watched American robins, cardinals, house wrens, blue jays and mourning doves nest in our urban yard. Using binoculars, we observed them raise their nestlings in our hedge and apple tree. At the cabin, we saw yellow warblers, American redstarts, Baltimore orioles, bluebirds, woodpeckers and many others. In both locations, bald eagles, red-tailed hawks and herons were common overhead.
A hairy woodpecker (Dryobates villous) hunts for insects on an old American elm stump.
Something about those early, joyful experiences stuck with our son. Even now as he studies medicine and has little time outside, he’ll text us about a Cooper’s hawk perched on a fence, a barn swallow nest in a hospital parking ramp, a winter moonrise, or the ducklings and goslings paddling on the creek near his apartment.
If you have children in your life, show them the simple things in nature; there are so many easy activities to enjoy together. Finding rocks, leaves and large seeds is a great place to start. Talk about their shapes, colors and textures. Learn to identify a few of the common trees where you live.
Getting dirty in the garden is great fun for most kids and adults! Plant seeds and tend them together. Carrots, green beans, radishes and marigolds were the first seeds we planted. (We also grew a potted cherry tomato.) We checked for progress everyday, from the first sprout, to buds on beans and marigolds, to harvesting and eating the veggies.
“Watering the garden” was a favorite task at our house!
While gardening, watch for butterflies and moths. Large ones, such as monarchs and swallowtails are easy to point out and talk about. If you grow milkweed, dill or parsley in your garden, you may find caterpillars to show children; monarchs on the milkweed and swallowtails on dill, parsley and other plants in the carrot family.
Monarch caterpillar (Danaus plexippus) on a common milkweed plant (Asclepias syriaca).
In autumn, take a “leaf walk” together and collect colorful leaves. Some kids enjoy pressing the leaves to make a book of the different types, shapes and colors. Most will enjoy piling up the leaves and jumping in them! While you’re out walking, watch for colorful birds and listen for their songs. Learn about the birds that inhabit your community.
Many children like to create nature journals. When our son was a preschooler, he made simple journals from scrap paper. He drew pictures of dragonflies, bees, birds, flowers, rocks and whatever else in nature caught his interest. He’d dictate a few sentences for me to write about each item until he was old enough to write his own. There are also simple journals that you can buy to record your observations together. We used both the “Bird Log” and “Nature Log” by Adventure Publications. These days there are many more options from which to choose. Here’s a link to a few other nature journals for children.
The early darkness of winter evenings makes it easier to view the night sky. Watch the moon wax and wane from a tiny crescent to a luminous globe and back to a sliver. Point out the brighter planets: Venus, Jupiter, Saturn and Mars. If you live away from urban lights, or can drive outside of the city, look at the beautiful Milky Way overhead and at a few of the easier-to-recognize constellations, such as Orion, Canis Major, Gemini and Ursa Major in the Northern Hemisphere. Many children, especially those living in cities, have few opportunities to marvel at a sky full of stars.
During a snowfall, walk together and notice the hush that settles over the land as falling snow muffles all sound. It feels magical, especially at dusk or in the evening. Catch snowflakes on your mittens and point out the variety of their beautiful shapes. A fresh, clean snow is also the perfect opportunity to look for animal tracks, and if the time is right, see the creature who made them! A walk in the woods on a mild winter day reveals the shapes of trees, native grasses and wildflower seed heads. Watch for woodpeckers that stay with us through the long winter and listen for the hooting of owls.
Winter walks are a good time to look for tracks and the creature who made them, like this red squirrel (Tamiasciurus hudsonicus).
As children grow and continue to learn, we can talk with them about endangered and extinct plants and animals, and what each of us might do, even in small ways, to prevent further loss. To that end, providing youngsters with fun experiences and happy memories of nature can help them connect meaning and joy with the natural environment — and that may create a deeper commitment to caring for our beautiful world.
Our summer days included checking the flowers and watching bees, butterflies and other garden insects.
On a windy, warm September evening, the sun has set; the air is soft and dusky. Migration is underway, but not the avian sort. A few large common green darner dragonflies zigzag beneath the trees hawking insects. I look skyward and far above me, a river of swarming green darners surges — hundreds of them — straight south ahead of a cold front.
Born in Minnesota, these green darners migrate to the Gulf Coast of the southern United States and Mexico. When they arrive, they’ll mate and lay eggs to produce the next generation, which will migrate north in April or May. When they arrive here, they will mate and give rise to a new generation before dying. These progeny will hatch by late August and continue the cycle of migration and reproduction.
But that’s not the entire story! Common green darners are present in the north all summer — so where did they come from? There’s a resident population that doesn’t migrate. They’re active and deposit eggs throughout the summer and autumn. However, their young, called naiads, won’t mature until the following spring. They will wait out the winter on the bottom of a pond, marsh or slow-moving river or stream.
Averaging 3 inches in length, and with a wingspan of 3.5 inches, green darners are among our largest dragonflies. This one also is a female. Males’ abdomens are bright blue.
Green darner adults eat mosquitoes, midges and other flying insects. The aquatic naiads feast on mosquito larvae and other aquatic insects, tadpoles and tiny fish. Green darners are eaten by spiders, large robber flies and birds such as kestrels.
Nature, Garden, Life 