Monarchs thrive with Emily's care


I passed neighbor Springlakes neighbor Faith on a walk recently. She says, "Susan, there is a woman who raises monarchs a few streets over. She's lived in this area for over 50 years. You have to find her."

So I begin walking up and down every street looking for a cloud of monarchs or some indication of a butterfly garden. At the end of one street, I see a yard alive with wildlife! Quick, I snap this photo of a Blue-grey Gnatcatcher.



I notice Northern Cardinals seemingly playing hide and seek.



And, an Eastern Phoebe.



I knew I found her!

As I stood trying to identify the many birds in her front yard, someone came out to check the mail. I meet Emily's husband. As I type her name, my brow furrows and I wonder if maybe her name is Emma. "I'll tell her to come outside." 

Emily Eagle. That is her name! (I begin dreaming of a new name for myself. Susan Songbird?)

Emily is beautiful. Her face glows. I thought that this is what it looks like to live a life of wonderment. She invites me to see her backyard and begins introducing me to her plants as if they are children. That kind of appreciation and reverence. 

She points to two tall Norfolk pine and a screened gazebo where she and her husband spend early mornings sitting and watching regular visits from a pair of American Eagles. (Now I know where Wildewood's eagles might spend time.) This tree— I hear then see American Crows.



In the backyard, there are many tables of planters filled with pots of baby milkweed grown from seed. And pots of milkweed growing in gardens.


Emily points out the monarch eggs on the backs of the leaves.



She then points out the small caterpillars. "As soon as I see the caterpillars, I place the whole plant in the hatching box." She carries this plant to the box.



"My husband built this to protect the caterpillars from wasps and other predators." Emily places the newly found caterpillars and notices a chrysalis on the screen that has changed from emerald green to a dark color. 

"It is about to hatch." When it does, she opens the box and the monarch flies away.



 "Oh look! Here is a chrysalis. Take this, Susan."



Another fascination was listening to Emily tell stories. 

Decades ago, Paul Neal, developer of our area, would sit outside with Emily and her husband. They'd eat and them give him oranges from their trees. In that friendship, Neal offered them land for sale that separates Wildewood from their area. Adjacent to the Eagle's is a pond and mature trees. The Eagles eventually divided the land they bought from Neal into two large, though smaller plots. "We have the best neighbors." 

Emily says that Wildewood was a wetland where cattle roamed. The largest Wildewood "lake" - about 30 feet deep was dug when Neal added land to some of the low lying areas. 

As I left with the milkweed plant and chrysalis, Emily says, 

"Do you have a screen box?" I don't. She then asks, "How about a screened porch?" Yes! 

I tell her about our area's butterfly gardens and how I see the wasps hunting for food. I now know how to foster the process. Our porch might become a butterfly nursery. I leave with confidence about how to help monarchs get to the butterfly stage. Thank you, Emily.