Death & Milkweed

As I sat in my mother's garden, filthy for the innumerable day, I began to doubt my borderline compulsive dedication to creating a magical Sonoran oasis. Granted, I've made the job measurably harder by a recent design change involving moving 3 tons of Desert Gold granite rock, by hand.

I'm the project manager, this is my fault.

In a moment of contemplation tinged with despondency, I couldn't help but question the relevance of the new laborious tan pathways amidst a society seemingly determined to devastate its own natural environment. However, my thoughts shifted to the delicate beauty of butterflies, the industriousness of bees, and the majestic presence of monarchs. It was then that I found solace in the significance of the Asclepias angustifolia I had recently planted in my native garden, and the unyielding yearning for ten other species of milkweed. These plants, beyond fulfilling my desires, are the essential constitution of the monarchs, representing a matter of life and death in their fragile existence. It matters to them.

Monarchs from as far as Canada, make the migration to the mountains of central Mexico to winter in the temperate pine forests. Not surprisingly, they need provisions along their arduous journey, and a host plant for the next generation upon their return. This is where milkweed becomes crucial to the delicate design of Nature. The larva of the monarch butterfly must feed on milkweed exclusively to ingest cardiac glycosides that make them poisonous to predators.

This does mean if you are not a monarch, milkweed is toxic. Please be careful planting if you have small ravenous children or pets. Death and life are often two sides of the same coin.

In preparation for this post championing milkweed planting as the only workable hope for the monarch's future, I went Internet hunting for a thumbnail picture. Even better, I found the reason I've spent my entire thirties covered in dirt and sweat. The reason I will finish the 3 ton walkways and plant 12 more native varieties of milkweed. The reason, my reason, is the innocent little girls in the foothills of Mexico buying marigolds to attract the spirits of their ancestors trapped in the tiny bodies of monarch butterflies reaching their final destination. (Please watch the video.)

The earth has no national borders. It is a fluid and dynamic system; far more interconnected, delicate, and complex than any human will ever fully comprehend. As a professional, conscientious gardener I strive to restore the environment I was born into. I plant milkweed. I hope you will too.

Best,

Molly