I’m getting used to the sound of crows in the surrounding pines as they rally the troops to chase away a hawk that’s come too close. I’m almost over the fact that the sparrows have pilfered nearly all of my thyme to feather their nest. I feel more generous than resentful when I see the catbirds have beaten me to all the blueberries on the bush that I just planted. I understand that when I dig a hole, I’m sacrificing precious garden earth worms unsurfaced to the voracious robins hovering nearby. But count me surprised when I saw two moths this side of tiny join forces, the other day, to chase away a hummingbird as it hovered near the feeder, ready to take a drink. That’s a first. Not sure what they were protecting, nor why the hummingbird didn’t give more of a fight. But it’s a jungle out there, and it’s hard to know who to root for or why.
A few days ago, I found a caterpillar inching down a parched dill weed branch and thought it might have been the larvae stage of a Spicebush Swallowtail like the ones I’ve seen hanging around that spot. I wondered briefly if I should move it to a safer place, but decided not to interfere. An hour later it was gone. Did it fall off the branch? Probably not. Did it turn into a butterfly? No, there is a chrysalis stage before the caterpillar gets its wings to fly. Did a bird pluck it from its perch? Probably, just when I looked away. I stared at the empty branch and reminded myself that it is the nature of birds to eat larvae and, in fact, I’m working hard elsewhere in my garden to make sure they have enough tasty seeds to munch on. But I’m also supposed to be saving the butterflies, aren’t I? And here is one that never made it long enough to fly. It is the ecosystem that wins, I tell myself, when we work to create a more natural, sustainable balance in our gardens - it is not the peaceable kingdom come to life. Birds are still birds, worms are still worms and larvae - well, sometimes a larvae’s fate is to become a tasty meal. It’s a jungle out there, and one that I can influence but never can control. Okay, I get it.
But then there’s this - the serendipity of nature, the little gifts. Within an hour of that tasty caterpillar’s disappearing act and ever since, two Eastern Tiger Swallowtails (not the Spicebush variety, but close enough), have been feasting in my garden and flitting merrily across the yard. A couple of monarchs, too. A coincidence? Of course it is, but their lovely dance reminds me that my efforts will be worth it if I can help even a few of my neighbor birds and butterflies survive.