A red-spotted purple

Butterfly Land

As the mercury hovers around 100, people might wilt and retreat indoors—but the butterflies are having a ball. Summer is high season for butterflies, and the hotter it is, the happier they seem.  In fact, driving down SCEE’s long driveway between the nature center and Hagy’s Mill Road, literally dozens of butterflies jump up from the dusty driveway to avoid the car, and dozens more flit across the driveway flying past.

We are Butterfly Land.  Come see.  Right now.

Just outside our front door, common milkweed is in full glorious bloom, perfect globular bursts that resemble pink fireworks.  Smelling unbelievably beautiful—Chanel No. 5 has nothing on milkweed—the flower attracts scores of butterflies: the ubiquitous cabbage whites, the big and boldly striped tiger swallowtail, the Flyers-colored monarch, and small brown skippers of innumerable species. A red admiral popped into view yesterday on the milkweed, sporting its gaudy bright red diagonal stripe. Fresh out of the chrysalis, it was a sight for a summer’s morning.

We’ve got a butterfly count coming up soon, and a butterfly evening too—we’ll sip wine while the butterflies sip nectar; nibble on cheese while the butterflies, well, sip nectar.

So while our center is 340 acres of fields and forests, all you have to do is drive down our driveway and head to our front door, and you’ll have already seen scores of butterflies.  Walk out to our butterfly meadow, and you’ll be in heaven.

Come see Butterfly Land for yourself.

The male firefly, flashing in search of a female

Sex and the Single Firefly

The male firefly, flashing in search of a female

By Mike Weilbacher, Exec Director

Saw my first firefly just last week, right after Memorial Day.  For me, a naturalist who marks the passage of time by nature’s calendar, nothing says summer like an evening of fireflies.

And one of my favorite stories is the secrets of a firefly’s flash.

When you see a cloud of fireflies rising from your lawn like liquid lightning, you are witnessing a stag party, a collection of horny males desperately seeking Susans– every firefly flashing around you is male, the flash used to seduce a female into responding.  Firefly females are generally flightless, their abdomens too weighted down with the machinery of egg production.  

Males seek them out by strafing the grasses, cruising tree branches, looking for female perching spots—flashing females in both senses of the word.  

And each firefly species has its own unique flash pattern– its own Morse code– which one species uses distinguishes itself from another.  So the firefly flashing in a J-pattern is a separate species from one flashing two dashes, though both appear identical to the untrained eye.  In some cases, even the best microscopes can’t tell discern one species from another, but they know who is who.  And who is where.  Some species flash high, others flash low: fireflies sort out species by both pattern and space.  

For every male’s flash, there is a correct answer, perhaps a two-second pause and then a quick, surreptitious dash.  The males flash questions into the night air, hoping (if insects truly hope) for an answer to appear from below. 

Then the story gets knotty.  There is a species of firefly the female of which also has decoded the correct response to another species.  When she’s interested in mating, she answers the male with the appropriate answer, and sex ensues. But when she’s hungry, she searches for the flash of the other, and gives that one’s appropriate response.  That male lands thinking he’s about to mate, and the female happily devours him, getting the protein she needs to create a batch of eggs. 

One helluva way to leave this world. 

That’s the why of firefly flashing.  Like a butterfly’s bright colors, a house wren’s bubbly song, a cricket’s scratchy chirrup, and a deer’s horny antlers, a firefly’s light is a neon sign, advertising its species, its sex, and its availability. 

The how is different:  a firefly’s abdomen is loaded with a pair of chemicals, luciferin and luciferase, held in separate sacks.  When exposed to each other, a powerful chemical reaction occurs that releases large amounts of energy as light, a light that magically generates infinitesimally small amounts of heat (unlike, say, a light bulb).  This bioluminescence is astonishingly common under the sea, where everything from single-celled dinoflagellates (a kind of plankton) to large bony fish glow in the ocean.  On land, however, bright life is exceedingly uncommon. 

In the tropics, where the forests are dense, fireflies can’t see or find each other in the growth.  There, flashing fireflies migrate to river corridors, and cover trees by the thousands– all flashing synchronously, the entire forest along a riverbank beckoning to firefly females to come closer.The flash of a firefly is a short-lived phenomenon– only a few weeks centered on the summer solstice, their bright lights marking the beginning of summer.  

One firefly-filled night soon, open a bottle of wine, lure your spouse onto the deck or the porch, witness the wonder of thousands of insects glowing all around you, whisper in his or her ear the full story of the firefly’s flash– and see what else develops that night.

Special Event: Join me for Firefly Nights, the first in our new Nature Uncorked series of events.  We’ll enjoy a wine and cheese reception in our firefly meadow while learning the natural history of these, and other, evening critters.  Nature Uncorked is $10/event (member price), $25 for the series of three.  Pre-registration required!  Register on our web site, schuylkillcenter.org.

Tallamy Tabbed to Give the Inaugural Dick James Lecture

The Schuylkill Center’s founding director

Founding director. Outstanding teacher. Sharp wit.  Leader.  Acclaimed meteorologist. Radio and TV personality.  Give Dick his due: he was a force to be reckoned with for decades.

To honor his accomplishments and reconnect to his legacy, the Schuylkill Center happily announces the establishment of the annual Richard L. James lecture. This year’s inaugural edition will be held Thursday, March 8 at 7:30 p.m. at the Cathedral Village auditorium.

Dr. Doug Tallamy, professor of entomology and author of the remarkable “Bringing Nature Home: How You Can Sustain Wildlife with Native Plants,” provides a visually compelling slide show of his astonishing research on the critical role native plants play in sustaining ecological communities, even in urban and suburban landscapes.  After listening to Tallamy, you’ll radically change your home gardening plans.

“In looking for a speaker of Dick’s stature,” said new director Mike Weilbacher, who worked for Dick here at SCEE in the 1980s, “all of us on staff immediately thought of Doug Tallamy: a great speaker on an incredibly important topic, the preservation of local biological diversity.”

Karin James, Dick’s widow, and Andy, his son and longtime land manager, will attend the lecture, Andy offering opening remarks about his dad.

Native plants guru Doug Tallamy

Whether you’d like to reconnect to our legacy or learn some great new information, this event is for you. The Dick James lecture is free for members, only $10/seat for non-members. Cathedral Village is located on Ridge Avenue in Andorra at the intersection of East Cathedral Road.  Please park in the St. Mary’s Church parking lot alongside Cathedral Village.

And RSVP by calling the center at 215-482-7300, ext. 110, or registering online.