They may be small enough to fit in the palm of a hand, but the monarch butterflies released along a Port Hope trail Friday are about to begin one of nature’s most remarkable journeys.
Approximately 80 monarchs were released September 11 along the Peter Huffman Trail near the corner of Hope Street South and Lake Street, sending the brightly coloured butterflies on their way toward their wintering grounds in Mexico.
For those gathered at 1 p.m., it was more than simply watching butterflies take flight.
It was a chance to learn about one of the most incredible migrations in the natural world — and the important role citizen scientists play in tracking it.
Leading the gathering was longtime monarch researcher and citizen scientist Don Davis, who has been tagging monarchs for decades.
Davis said his fascination with the butterflies began in 1967 when he tagged his first monarch.
After stepping away from the activity for several years, he returned to monarch tagging in 1985 with an ambitious goal — to tag a monarch in Ontario and eventually have that same butterfly found in Mexico.
That goal became reality in 1986.
Since then, Davis has remained heavily involved in monarch research and tagging activities, including the long-running Monarchs and Migrants Weekend at Presqu’ile Provincial Park, which recently completed its 41st year.
He has also been a member of Monarch Watch since 1992.
Davis explained that tagging a monarch is surprisingly simple.
Each butterfly receives a tiny, numbered tag that contains information allowing anyone who finds the butterfly to report where it was located.
The tags are part of the Monarch Watch program, helping researchers learn more about the incredible migration undertaken by monarchs each fall.
Davis demonstrated the process for those gathered Friday.
The butterfly is carefully held before a small adhesive tag is placed near the body on the large, mitten-shaped cell on the rear wing.
The tag is held in place for a few seconds to ensure it adheres properly.
Then comes the best part.
Release.
Sometimes a monarch will remain on a person’s finger for a few moments, seemingly reluctant to leave.
But eventually, instinct takes over.
The wings begin to move and the butterfly lifts off, disappearing into the surrounding vegetation.
Davis said many of the butterflies released Friday had been captured over the previous several days by Joan Parrot, who had been using a net to collect monarchs from a butterfly bush in her front yard.
The butterflies were temporarily kept in glassine envelopes, similar to those used by stamp collectors, where they could breathe and continue feeding on nectar before being tagged and released.
Before tagging each butterfly, Davis also determines whether it is male or female.
For his own records Friday, he was recording the females.
One of the butterflies received tag number 870.
Once released, the tiny traveller was on its own.
But the butterflies weren’t the only ones being remembered along the trail.
Davis also spoke about the late Rod Parrott, a remarkable Port Hope-area man whose passion for butterflies extended far beyond collecting them.
Parrott, who worked professionally as a bricklayer, became a self-taught expert on butterflies and amassed an extensive collection that was eventually donated to the Canadian Museum of Nature following his death.
Davis said Parrott and his wife Joan travelled extensively in their pursuit of butterflies and were involved in numerous butterfly-related projects.
The couple also worked together raising and rearing butterflies and specimens for the Insectarium in Montreal.
Parrott was also involved in the Monarch Teacher Network in Canada, helping establish a connection between monarch conservation and classrooms.
For Davis, Friday’s release was therefore about more than 80 butterflies.
It was about science, conservation, memories and the people who have dedicated decades to understanding one of North America’s most recognizable insects.
And now, the monarchs have a much longer journey ahead.
After leaving Port Hope, they will head south, following an instinctive migration route that will eventually take them thousands of kilometres to the mountains of central Mexico.
Many will never make the return journey.
But some will.
And for those carrying tiny numbered tags on their wings, there is always the possibility that somewhere along that extraordinary journey, someone will find one.
A tiny piece of Port Hope — carried on orange and black wings — could someday turn up thousands of kilometres away.