All I know about the process of tagging Monarch butterflies comes from one of the guys who works at the Day Butterfly Center, named Michael. I had contacted the Education office at the Gardens to volunteer to go up one afternoon and participate in what ever one does to 'tag'. Expecting it would certainly be a bit more complicated than just running around in the back yard and grabbing someone's shirt tail, saying 'you're It!'
And it is, as well as interesting. I did not actually have the opportunity to do any today, due to overcast, mostly rainy weather. Remembering they do not fly in the rain (and like birds that disappear when the weather is inclement - wondering where they all go to hide?), I did not expect much activity. But since I had said I would go, I went. Driving around by both elbows to get to the Butterfly Center, in a steady rain, I knew there would not be many visitors to the Gardens. And likely even fewer who would want to get out of their vehicles to troop into the 98% humidity of the glassed-in house where the indoor butterflies are all beating their wings against captivity. I think about a dozen people came in while I was sitting there reading my book on the bench.
Naturally, the butterflies they would want to tag, to have whoever finds the corpse, would be more along the lines of 'wildlife'. Not that the ones inside are tamed, but maybe just domesticated, since they can only peer through the windows and wish for freedom. The ones that get tagged are the great, great grandparents of the ones that will eventually make it to central Mexico. According to the resident expert, Michael, the average livespan is about three weeks, so the guys (and females) that would be tagged in Harris County in September, would likely not make it as far as the Gulf Coast before deceasing. They would lay eggs, and start another generation, that would lay eggs, to make more caterpillars,etc. He also said there are some of the Monarch variety that live as long as six months, so it is possible that some of the ones marked by the staff and volunteers at Callaway could end up being found in Mexico.
You have to have a good clear, sunny day to even think you might find one flapping around outside in the beds of tempting nectar-filled flowers. And you go out with a big white net (just like the ones in the song: "They're coming to take me awaaaayyyy...") but you don't have to actually tip-toe through the tulips to get them. Just hang around all the stuff the gardening staff has planted to attract them, and hope they will come flitting by. When you do get one in your net, you very carefully dis-entangle your catch and put this wee, tiny sticker on it's wing. The adhesive sticker has wee, tiny numbers printed on it that the finder would check and be able to coordinate throught a website, to know where it was applied. You also have to check it's gender. Not as simple as turning over a dog or cat - but not too personal either: they just have different markings on their wings. You write the date, time, gender in a book, along with a code number from the tag. Let 'er go.
I don't know when they started doing the tagging at Callaway, but this is the last week of 'tagging season', so I won't get another chance until next year. I remember going to Jekyll once years ago, on an outing I found out about through Georgia Conservancy. I thought it would be interesting for kids to go and see how they catch, band and release migrating birds - and also thought that we would have an opportunity to participate. But we were disappointed, I think because the experts that had put up a mist net said it was an overcast and windy day and there was little activity to see, and nothing to do. It was pretty much the same story today at the Gardens, but I will likely try again next year, now that I am aware of it, and think it would be interesting to participate.
Other than that, I spent the day at home, sorting and putting most of what I found that I must have thought was important when I crammed in the closet, in the recycle bin.
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