Songs of Homecoming

“When I was a skinny kid in short pants, butterflies entered my soul.”

Michael McCarthy

Butterflies may seem like a glib topic, given the chaotic and challenging times we’re in. But this one, the swallowtail in the photograph taking nourishment in our backyard, lifted me for a moment from the chaos and concern. Its presence reminded me of my childhood. 

I used to sing to them—butterflies. They were abundant when I was a small child, and I’d go out among them in the yard or fields, coax one into my hand and begin. The song was always of-the-moment and directed to the delicate creature in my palm.

We’ve heard repeatedly about the decline of monarch butterflies, around 90% since the 1980’s. If you’ve lived as long as I have, you’ve probably been a witness to their slow disappearance. And moths. Remember how “messy” it could be to drive at night, especially on country roads? There were so many moths then that they splattered on the windshield and headlights. These days, that’s rarely a problem. 

Lightning bugs, too, seem less numerous. I recall childhood summer nights when they lit up the yard with their tiny gold blinkings, when I’d grab an empty jar, run outside, and catch a few to hold their glow close for a while. 

Growing up, I also encountered many more frogs and toads than I do now. A day’s tromp outside near trees, streams, or gardens always put me in contact with an amphibian or two. I’ve had the pleasure recently of hearing the roar of a few bullfrogs at the edge of a nearby pond, but they remained stubbornly hidden. And though I’m often in woods and fields, I can’t recall the last time I spotted a toad.

I miss them all. Even the moths and toads.

Maybe it’s time we start singing them back, in whatever way we can. Our songs can include planting for pollinators (monarchs love milkweed), cutting out chemical pesticides, and finding other ways to create inviting habitats. Butterflies are a quintessential symbol of rebirth. Let’s live into that possibility for ourselves, these creatures we miss, and our times. And if we’re so moved, maybe we can offer up some homemade melodies.