Features disabled! Please read the following:<< I Have the Plugin - Show Flash Content >> | << No Plugin - Hide this Warning >>
Limited Functionality ~ Flash Required!
Posted from Angangueo, Mexico at 6:10 AM local timeMariposas MonarcasI'd initially planned on visiting Michoacán's Monarch Butterfly Reserve in February with several Puebla classmates. Unfortunately, apparently due to the late arrival of the butterflies this year, our tour options were limited. I ended up waiting until March and made the trip with Pat. The timing of our visit was perfect, as we arrived in the midst of the mating season and peak activity among the insects. Every year in October and November, millions of monarch butterflies descend on the forested mountains of Michoacán for winter hibernation. They arrive from all over the continent, many making the 4,000-kilometer journey from the Great Lakes region of the United States and Canada. After settling in for winter at elevations above 10,000 feet in and around the 160-square-kilometer reserve, the butterflies become active again in February and March. As the temperature rises in March, the insects reach their sexual maturity and mate, the males dying shortly afterward. The females flutter off to the southern United States, where they lay their eggs and promptly die themselves. The next generation is born, caterpillars emerging from cocoons as butterflies in May and migrating further into the northern U.S. and Canada. In August, yet another generation is spawned. Among the most fascinating aspects of the Michoacán butterfly migration is the fact that it takes between three and five generations for the loop to be completed. The insects hibernating in Michoacán never themselves return. Instead, it is the offspring of their offspring (or subsequent offspring) that end up making the long journey back to the Mexican highlands. But somehow, return they do - in numbers that approach a half-billion insects in better years. When Pat and I arrived in the small town of Angangueo yesterday, we grabbed a quick lunch of stir-fried nopales (cactus) and quesadillas before hiring a driver/guide to take us to El Rosario, one of two publicly-accessible sanctuaries in the reserve. (Here's a shot of the vehicle we ended up hiring, along with one of our three guides. You can just make out the face of the second novice guide - the real one was in his fifties - peering out the window in back. Although I had my doubts as we hopped aboard, the vehicle completed the trip without incident.) We arrived at the sanctuary just before 4:00. After hiking into the forest for 15 or 20 minutes (and hiring yet another guide), we stumbled upon several trees swarming with beautiful butterflies. For those who've not visited Michoacán in February or March, it's hard to conjure a "swarm" of butterflies - but they do indeed exist. The insects cling to branches in clusters, completely covering entire trees. Many of the butterflies were in the midst of acrobatic mating rituals, males flying around bearing the weight of attached females. When noises or other critters (humans) would disturb them, the sky would fill momentarily with hundreds of fluttering monarchs. Though we remained for just over an hour, the experience was well worth the lengthy journey. It's simply not something you see everyday: pines covered with swarming butterflies, translucent orange wings glowing in the afternoon sun, blue skies speckled with airborne monarchs. Even this morning, as we hopped aboard the bus departing Angangueo, the butterflies were everywhere. Here are several photographs providing a glimpse of the spectacle: Solo Monarch | Mating | Branches of Orange | Branches | Wings | Speckled Sky In addition to visiting the butterfly sanctuary, Pat and I spent time in both Pátzcuaro and Morelia last week. With just 50,000 people, Pátzcuaro is a pleasant town located about an hour from Morelia in the mountains of Michoacán. We visited to get a feel for small town Michoacán and recover from the pace of Mexico City. Pátzcuaro is famous among Mexicans for being the place to be during Day of the Dead celebrations in November. Isla Janitzio, a tiny but crowded island in Pátzcuaro's lake, is apparently overrun with visitors celebrating the quintessential Mexican holiday. Even outside of November, the island is interesting and full of people. Here's a shot of Lago Pátzcuaro, with Isla Janitzio visible in the lake at left. Look carefully and you can see a tree and the 130-foot-tall statue of independence hero José María Morelos y Pavón atop the island. Approaching the island by boat, one is struck by the dense development of Janitzio in contrast to the sparse population around the perimeter of the lake. Morelia, capital of Michoacán, is a lovely city with a grand cathedral, pleasant parks, and a vibrant student community. Unfortunately, we were passing through and didn't have adequate time to explore. I left vowing to return one day, thinking Morelia might be a nice place to study Español. Before I leave Michoacán for now, I should mention that we found the region's people friendly and helpful. Having come from Mexico City, this might have resulted in part from the typical contrasts between mammoth city and small community. (Still, Morelia has a population of more than one-half million.) Hotel and restaurant workers were kind, and we could hardly hop aboard a bus without a driver or passenger offering assistance. It was a nice few days away from the big city and language schools. Now, on to Oaxaca, a place I've heard much about from native Mexicans and foreigners alike.
|