A BUTTERFLY FROM AMERICA.

Manawatu Standard, Volume LIV, Issue 295, 10 November 1934, Page 7

A BUTTERFLY FROM AMERICA.

THE MONARCH’S VOYAGE.

A report recently published that a specimen of the Monarch or Milkweed Butterfly of America has been observed in Kent—farther east, it is believed, that ever before —maintained tlie interest stimulated last year, when as was recorded in tlie Times, no fewer than 30 appearances were noted during August and September of this distinguished visitor in England, writes a correspondent of that journal. America can boast of many splendid butterflies; the vogue of butterfly jewellery a few years ago lias made familiar the winderful iridescent blue displayed by the South American Morphos. But the Monarch is the sole representative of his order in the AVestern Continent to come here of its own accord. Measuring 4in. from tip to tip of wings of a rich amber brown trimmed with white markings on a black border, and the possessor of a stately flight, tlie Monarch, if less brilliant of hue than some of his compatriot butterflies, is no unworthy ambassador. A FRIENDLY AHSITOR.

It is a commonplace of American natural history that this insect, habitually and in great numbers, makes migrations of hundreds of miles over the land. The ocean is another matter, and,it was at one time supposed that the very occasionaßspecimens noticed here must have been carried most of the way by ships. Now, however, it is no longer doubted that his own motive power conveys the Monarch to our shores. , , , After the Atlantic, the English Channel can no longer seem a formidable ba.rrier to the passage of a butterfly. The Red Admiral has, year by year, to be reinforced by fresh bands of immigrants. In May or early June they are wont to arrive, and it is the English-bred progeny of these venturesome travellers that disport themselves in our lanes and gardens in August and September. AVhen you come across' a Red Admiral philandering with the mauve flowers of an August buddlcia r,r, later on, distributing his envied favours among your Michaelmas daisies—their charming faces all upturned to meet his kiss —you realise at once that he is aware of you and graciously tolerant of your approach. Indeed, if you stand awhilo to watch him, he may even do you the honour pf alighting upon your coat sleeve. I know no other butterfly that makes such an impression of being conscious of, yet entirely undisturbed by, a human presence.