Junonia Coenia

The Common Buckeye has a moth-like coloration, but it is emphatically a butterfly. It belongs to the same family as the Monarch and the Red Admiral, the Nymphalidae. The German entomologist Jacob Hübner (1761-1826) created, if that’s the word for it, the Junonia genus; it has somewhere between 30-35 species. This naming took place in 1819, and the imprecise number of species has a meaning of its own. Disputes surround the classification of some species within the group; some people put  them under Juno’s care, others under one on another closely related genus. Now 1819 is not that long ago; the situation is still fluid, as it were. And for all we know, the Lepidoptera collectively might be spawning new species yet without notifying human lepidopterists as common courtesy, one supposes, would require.

I became hooked on butterflies when writing the Ghulf Genes novels in which I had one character, who was always very lucky, discover a new species in Spain as a child—which device necessitated an entrance to the subject. I was at first intrigued and then entirely bowled over by the vast complexity. Which is both instructive and humbling. One discovers not only deep layers in nature but also unknown communities of humans laboring away—of which Jacob Hübner is one.

One aspect of that community is now rising forcefully in my awareness. Here are scientists who inherited naming conventions from the days when Latin was the English of the world; they are still at it, creating names, but absentmindedly, as it were, never bothering to record, anywhere, what those words mean in the global language of today. Junonia? The goddess Juno, no doubt, lurks between the leaves there. Coenia? I spent far too much time trying to run it down and failed. But it might have something to do with “muddy”; the closest Latin I could find was coenosus, meaning muddy or turgid or boggy. The coloration of the creature? Well, perhaps.

This post is occasioned by a visit from a Buckeye (in England also called Commodore or Pansy) yesterday. It was a little frustrating trying to get a good photo; I show two that weren’t a disaster. Then, to do some honor to this butterfly’s real patterns, I show a more happy picture I managed to take last year about this time.

The Buckeyes’ favorite food is the snapdragon; they feed on its nectar and their caterpillars eat the leaves. I took the photo I show from a site called Whole Blossoms (link). By all means purchase some at the site, and the Buckeyes will come—although, in our case, they visit to enjoy our mint and basil.

Vanessa Virginiensis

Our cone flowers are very popular this year. Today’s visitor, a new species for us, was an American Painted Lady. With a Latin name somewhat in contrast to its English, one wonders how long this lady intends to stay a virgin. And no, friends! Virginiensis does not mean that this species hails from Virginia. When conflicts like this arise, political correctness comes to the rescue. The butterfly is also known more demurely as American Lady. By all means, let’s have it both ways. Vanessa, by the way, is Greek for butterfly. The Latin is papilio, recognized as one of the family names under the Order that rules over both butterflies and moths, Lepidoptera.

The smaller image shows a butterfly called Small White, Pieris rapae. Pieris derives from a Greek word for Muse; the rapae points at radishes—although the favorite food of this butterfly is cabbage, and its alternate names are Cabbage Butterfly or Cabbage White. Small Whites are the most common fluttering creatures here, but this is the first time I’ve managed to take a picture of one. They definitely do not hang around. Until today, when we encountered an unusually meditative representative of this tribe, we didn’t even notice that they have small black spots. They fly too fast for that. These might become visible by clicking on the image to enlarge it; Esc then returns to the post.

Thus far this year we have had visits from three of the five superfamilies of butterflies arrayed under the order of Lepidoptera. These have been Swallowtails (Family of Papilionidae—swallowtails and birdwings), Red Admirals (Nymphalidae—brushfooted), and Small Whites (Pieridae—whites and yellows). We’ve also seen Monarchs early this year and recently a Common Buckeye (both are part of Nymphalidae); the Buckeye is a rather showy brownish butterfly. We saw one this year already, but it did not bother to land for a picture. Maybe later… The two other families are Lycaenidae (blues and coppers) and Riodinidae (metal marks, so named for metallic-looking spots on their wings). 

A Day of Butterflies

Four of our five Black Swallowtail butterflies have hatched, migrated outside, eventually into the air, and away... One came last night, three hatched rapidly this morning. Above pictures of them still indoors. The last image is that of an empty husk with but a faintly perceptible slit through which these winged creatures first force themselves into the daylight. One of them, sure enough injured a wing—and gave us some worries for a while.

The migration continued outdoors. The one on the concrete was the first out, last night, and spent his night under a stool in a great down-pour. This morning it was time to dry up. Once dry, they all proceeded to take little trial flights--first to the top of flowers, then to the fenced tomatoe yard, finally into the heights. The last photo shows our last Swallowtail, indeed the one with the injured wing, way up high on a leaf. He rested there for some hours and eventually also flew away.

So does this mean that our butterflies days are over for the year—aside from the last, the fifth, still in chrysalis and a couple more weeks to go? By no means. Around 10 in the morning came a NEW KIND. It stayed for several hours feasting on the blue flowers of our basil plants. Heavy research soon yielded its name. It was a Junonea coenia, better known as a Buckeye—and in the politically insensitive word of nomenclature, sometimes rendered as the Common Buckeye. Not common for us, let me tell you! So long did that Buckeye linger here, we wonder if another campaign may be in the offing. We already know that Buckeye’s caterpillars are very, very black. We shall be inspecting the basil plants daily soon, on the lookout. Herewith some views of this first-time visitor:

We’ve had to use small pictures here to show a good many, hence detail is not immediately visible. But clicking on the images will enlarge them very nicely.