butterflies

We want to plant a bee-friendly garden at the cottage. What should we plant? Also, my daughters are both concerned that attracting bees will mean they’re going to get stung. Is that a realistic concern?—Jasmine Avanti, Georgian Bay, Ont.

“It’s understandable that a person would have that concern,” says Lorraine Johnson, the co-author of A Garden for the Rusty-Patched Bumblebee: Creating Habitat for Native Pollinators. Bees sting. More bees flying around, seeking out flowers, more potential bee stings, right? Except bee behaviour doesn’t support that reasoning. Foraging bees are attending to Very Important Bee Business. “They’re not the least bit interested in stinging you,” says Johnson. “Watch. Enjoy. Observe without fear.”

As for what to plant, the possibilities are—well, maybe not endless, but very vast. “You can create a pollinator garden in almost any conditions,” says Johnson. “The trick is to match the plants to the conditions that you have.”

Just keep those plants native. For sunny areas of the property, try black-eyed Susan, pearly everlasting, pussytoes, and native wild strawberry. For shady areas, go for zigzag goldenrod. “It does not cause hay fever,” says Johnson. “That’s ragweed.” (You’re vindicated, goldenrod!) Woodland strawberry is another great option for shade. Bonus: “It produces delicious berries.”

Avoid the non-native, invasive groundcovers “commonly available at regular nurseries,” says Johnson: periwinkle, pachysandra, or bugleweed. Even if a plant isn’t invasive, if it’s not native, it’s not as useful for pollinators. (Native plants and native species evolved to have a mutually beneficial relationship.)

Hit up a local native plant nursery with your site-specific questions. “They are amazing resources,” says Johnson. “Their mission is to share info.” Hey, that’s our mission too!

Got a question for Cottage Q&A? Send it to answers@cottagelife.com.

This article was originally published in the August 2022 issue of Cottage Life.

Flitting, dodging, never seeming to land, northern spring azures are ethereal specks of splendour, appearing miraculously on sunny, warm spring days. The pale blue butterflies herald the unfolding of the season’s ephemeral blossoms—to which they’re intrinsically tied—along forest trails and watersides throughout Canada to the tree line.

Beneath sun-warmed leaf litter, azures emerge from plump, brown or yellowish chrysalids for their maiden flights, unlike the smattering of other early spring butterflies, which overwinter as adults. Males patrol almost constantly for mates, especially mid-afternoon to dusk. They seem to disappear when occasionally landing to bask, the grey-brown undersides of their closed wings blending with ground colours. Living for only a few days to a couple of weeks, they sip a little flower nectar, but tank up on minerals from mud puddles or even animal droppings.

Female azures, distinguished by their black-bordered forewings, generally mate within hours of emerging. The following day, they lay light-green eggs, spaced individually on flower buds of wild cherry, blueberry, dogwoods, and other shrubs with white spring blossoms. They perish soon afterwards.

Their tiny, squat caterpillars, which can be green to whitish, pink, or brown, hatch within several days, and munch buds, flowers, and developing fruits for two to three weeks before they pupate. As they grow, they secrete a greenish honeydew solution, favoured by sweet-toothed ants. In exchange for the sugary drink, the ants protect the developing pupas from spiders, wasps, and other assailants.

While most northern spring azures stay cooped up in chrysalids for 10 or 11 months of the year, some in southeastern Canada pupate within only a few weeks and fly in summer. In southern Ontario and the prairies, a nearly identical but apparently separate species, the summer azure, also takes wing around the same time.