Postcards from a Migrating Monarch

Hi! I’m Mona. I’m a monarch caterpillar. I might look squishy and delicate, but there’s more to me than meets the eye. I’m tough, daring, and full of surprises.

USA

Sept. 1, 2024

Meadville, Missouri, USA

Mmmmm! Milkweed is my favorite. In fact, it’s all I eat. And eating is all I do — well, besides sleeping. I’m 3,000 times heavier than when I hatched from a tiny egg. But getting bigger isn’t the only reason I gobble milkweed. It’s packed with poisonous chemicals. They don’t bother me — I told you I was tough — but they do make me poisonous to predators.

Sept. 2, 2024

Meadville, Missouri, USA

I feel like there’s more to life than munching milkweed. So I’ve decided to make a few changes. First, no more milkweed! Second, find somewhere new to hang out. This twig seemed like a good spot, so I anchored my behind to its underside, curled into a “J,” and … Presto! My skin split open to reveal a jade-green chrysalis underneath. How’s that for a change?

Sept. 13, 2024

Meadville, Missouri, USA

Inside my chrysalis, my caterpillar parts quickly dissolve into a gooey soup of cells. While it doesn’t look like much is happening on the outside, I’m hard at work inside remixing the soup into a brand new body. Today, I’m ready to burst out of my shell — as a beautiful butterfly! Once my wings fully inflate, I’m outta here. No more crawling for this girl!

Sept. 15, 2024

10,000 feet over Springfield, Missouri, USA

We might look alike, but I’m different from monarchs born in the spring and summer. For one, my wing muscles are stronger. They’re made to put miles behind me, not just flit from flower to flower. For another, I live about eight months longer than summer monarchs. And finally, summer monarchs are homebodies, while I love to travel. In fact, I’m on an incredible journey right now.

Who needs a map? Not this bold butterfly! The sun and a tiny compass in my brain are all I need to find my way.

Sept. 19, 2024

Tallgrass Prairie Preserve, Oklahoma, USA

Every day, I fly farther south. With blue skies and a tailwind, I can put 100 miles behind me. But usually, I only go about 30. Thunderstorms blow me off course. Droughts wilt flowers I need for nectar. Cars are a constant danger. But I just keep fluttering. At night, I rest. When I hang from a twig and fold my weary wings, I look like a leaf.

Oct. 2, 2024

San Antonio, Texas, USA

Remember the Alamo? Well, I just flew over it. Flowers fuel my flutter. I’ve slowed down a little bit so I can spend extra time guzzling nectar. Even though I fly dozens of miles a day, I’ve gained weight on this trip. Flowers get scarce during winter in the mountains. If I hope to survive, I need to pack on a few extra ounces.

Mexico

Oct. 14, 2024

Village near TorreÓn, Coahuila, Mexico

When you travel as much as I do, you’re bound to run into a few critters who’d like to make you their meal. Today, for example, a scissor-tailed flycatcher snatched me out of the sky and tried to eat me. Ouch! Luckily, I taste awful, and he quickly spit me out. My wings got a little scratched up, but they still flap just fine.

Boy, am I beat! I’ve been flying every waking moment for nearly two months.

Nov. 1, 2024

Village of El Rosario, Michoacán, Mexico

Don’t be scared by the skeletons. Today is Day of the Dead, a holiday when Mexicans celebrate their dearly departed. During the celebrations, cascades of butterflies wash down from the skies over sleepy Mexican towns. Thousands of monarchs have joined me on my journey south. Our fluttery appearance reminds villagers of the souls of their lost loved ones.

Dec. 25, 2024

Oyamel Fir Forests, Michoacán, Mexico

I bet you’ve never seen Christmas ornaments like us! This fir tree is where my friends and I spend winter. It grows on the side of a mountain. At this height, the temperature is just right. If it were warmer, I might use up my energy and starve. But if it were colder, I might freeze. Sometimes, we snap branches if too many of us rest on the same one.

USA (Again)

Mar. 15, 2025

Hot Springs, Arkansas, USA

It’s springtime, and I’m on the move again. But I’m tired. My pale wings have grown bush-ripped and bird-nipped. I fear this may be my final stop. But don’t despair! Tucked under milkweed sprouts from Houston to Hot Springs are nearly 400 of my tiny eggs. Soon, comma-sized caterpillars will hatch, grow into orange-and-black adults, and fly northward until Missouri once again brims with butterflies.

Thanks for joining me on my journey! This fall, be sure to go outside and look for migrating monarchs. You never know. One of the butterflies you see might make it all the way to Mexico.

Mona’s Migration

Every fall, newborn monarchs from as far north as Canada fly thousands of miles south to a place they’ve never been before — a small patch of forest in the mountains north of Mexico City. Their journey is one of the most amazing and dangerous migrations on Earth.

1. In the fall, monarchs migrate south to spend winter in central Mexico.
2. Though this is their first migration, they arrive at the same place where their great-great-grandparents spent the previous winter. 
3. In the spring, they flutter north. Females lay eggs across the southern U.S. then die. Caterpillars hatch out, turn into butterflies, and fly farther north. 
4. Three or four generations of monarchs live and die through the summer. Caterpillars that hatch in late summer start the cycle again. 

Save the Monarch!

Monarchs like Mona need our help. Over the past three decades, nearly 80 percent of the monarchs east of the Rocky Mountains have disappeared. You can help bring their numbers up by doing a few easy things.

• Plant milkweed. Milkweed is the only thing monarch caterpillars eat. Common, swamp, and butterfly milkweed are easy to grow and loved by hungry caterpillars. For planting tips, visit monarchwatch.org/waystations.
• Grow native. Native wildflowers — especially those that bloom during fall migration — provide food for adult monarchs. For a list of nurseries that sell natives you can plant, including milkweed, visit grownative.org.
• Don’t mow so much. Milkweed often grows in undisturbed areas along roadsides and fencerows.
• Ask your parents to avoid pesticides. Not only do these chemicals kill pests, they also kill tons of butterflies.
• Tag migrating monarchs. To save monarchs, biologists need to learn more about them. You can help by putting tracking tags on migrating monarchs. For more info, visit monarchwatch.org.