It turns out we have local varieties of both, and need to
protect them.
When Angie Dunson and Michael Riska, frequent St. John
visitors, were walking on Bordeaux Mountain in March, they saw bunches of
tropical milkweed along the side of the road. They are self-described “plant
nerds” and recognized the pretty flowers as Asclepias
curassavica, because they have planted it at their home in Delaware, along
with several other types of milkweed.
As they continued their walk they were dismayed to see
someone clearing the side of the road with a weed-whacker, tearing up the
little milkweed plants. They asked him to spare them, explaining that the
plants were important for the monarch butterflies, which were flitting around
on the flowers. They were pleased when he complied – and then contacted the
Tradewinds to spread the word about protecting these plants.
Though monarchs butterflies can get nectar from different
flowers (I have seen them on my bougainvillea), they exclusively use milkweed
for laying their eggs. When the young caterpillars hatch, they eat up almost
the whole plant.
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What’s in it for the milkweed? I thought they must get their flowers pollinated so they can reproduce successfully and spread their seeds, but was told that milkweed is mostly pollinated by bees. The milkweed seems to just be helping support the monarchs, which are being seriously challenged by loss of habitat and widespread spraying of pesticides on crop fields.
I knew there are special monarch butterflies in the Virgin
Islands, ones that do not migrate in the complicated way the continental ones
do. Because there is usually food here all year, they don’t need to engage in
those exhausting and treacherous travels.
However, the tropical plant looks nothing like the ones I
know from the Northeast, with their thick leaves, heavy pods, and lavender
flowers, even though genetically it is a close relative. Common Milkweed is Asclepias syriaca. Apparently there are 12 varieties
altogether.
Monarch on common milkweed (Asclepias
syriaca)
Right after I heard the story about the tropical milkweed on
the Bordeaux road, my friend Joan Wilson mentioned that she had a whole mess of
monarchs at her place up there, so I invited myself over for a photo shoot.
Joan had liked the pretty flowers, so she planted some seeds
in her yard, not knowing about the plant’s special relationship with the
monarchs. Now she has a spectacular butterfly breeding center.
Besides the caterpillars, I saw adult monarchs hooking up and mating.
And the fascinating chrysalis – the magic pod that emerges
from the split-open body of the caterpillar and then is transformed into an
adult butterfly. I wanted to stay all day.
The skin of the monarch caterpillar
breaks open and reveals the chrysalis, where the butterfly will form.
When I finally left, Joan gave me a few seeds to take home.
I am hoping the plants will grow down at our salty sea level lot, as well as up
on the mountain.
If you see them, or the monarch butterflies, anywhere around
St. John, please be sure to treat them with proper respect, recognizing their
roles in the ongoing miracle of metamorphosis.
