Population Densities of Butterflies in the Pikes Peak Region
The following records, drawn from my field logs of the last 59 years, sift out the average and the greatest observed densities of many of the common butterflies in the Pikes Peak Region. This work has been done so that future workers in this field can compare observations to see if populations are becoming more or less dense with time.
The “average number per trip” is calculated as the total number of individuals observed divided by the number of trips afield during which the species was encountered. Thus, if I found a total of 320 individuals of a species on 70 trips afield, the average density would be recorded as 320/70 = 4.6 / trip (not per hour). The “maximum density” is derived from the single trip afield during which the observed number of individuals of a species divided by the time afield equals the largest quotient. For example, if a three-hour trip found 29 individuals, the recorded density would be 29/3 = 9.7/hour. If on another trip, two and a half hours turned up 27 individuals, then 27/2.5 = 10.8/hour, a greater observed density. Thus, the greatest density observed is reported. “TNTC” means too numerous to count, usually reflecting population explosions.
The Pikes Peak Region is herein defined as including all of El Paso and Teller Counties, and portions of adjacent Park, Lincoln, and Kiowa Counties. Sites north of the Monument Divide are excluded, as they were poorly sampled, and in many cases include clear ecological differences from the Pikes Peak area itself. The Rampart Range is included north only to Mount Herman and Carroll Lakes. A radius of roughly thirty-five miles from Pikes Peak is roughly 3850 square miles or 2.46 million acres. The life zones include the Sonoran short grass prairie, the pinyon-juniper and oak-pine transition woodlands, the Canadian (Taiga), a thin, poorly resolved Hudsonian, and the Arctic-Alpine (Tundra) on Pikes Peak itself. At least 206 butterfly species fly in El Paso County alone, although many of them are occasional or stray species from the south and east.
This set of four pieces was written between 2008 and 2020, and includes a salute to a bright morning, a string piece with a piano as percussion, a mystery, and finally, an untitled orchestral piece I wrote in 2008. Have a good time!
After many years of observation, I have compiled my data on butterfly visits to flowers. The results are shown in two graphs. This is from a database consisting of 11,392 observed visits to 110 species of flowers in the Pikes Peak Region.
The following pieces track the ontogeny of a butterfly, from the magnificent egg through the busy larval and anticipatory pupal stages, to the flying and mating adult, and finally the memory of a life well lived. These pieces come from my archives, from 2008 through 2020. The last (Theme 1) was the first piece of instrumental music I ever wrote on GarageBand. Enjoy.
Here is a song I wrote in about 1974, commemorating a pilgrimage some friends and I took to Los Alamos, NM on August 6-9 to call attention to (and address and bemoan) the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. We were a rag-tag group, walking from Taos to Los Alamos through Santa Fe, sleeping in fields, and carrying signs. The inspiration was from Saint Francis, who walked about similarly, calling people to join the “new madness.” We met with the director of the Los Alamos laboratory, who assured us of the necessity of building earth-destroying bombs that he hoped we’d never have to use again. After I recorded this, a friend sent it to Joan Baez, who, I hope, had a chuckle.
And, a while later, after hiking and camping along the Conejos River in southern Colorado, I wrote this peaceful song. I recorded it recently, and I can’t sing so well anymore, so…
Here is the first song I ever wrote, at age 18, after visiting a ghost town and hearing a lame Windex ad. I used the first four notes of the Windex tune and wrote a couple verses, since slightly revised. Here’s “Tumble Down Shack.”
And my latest song, January 2021, Theme 152, titled “What’s Ours Today.”
Modern Christendom seems to have run aground, like a beached whale, completely out of its element. Faith has turned to blind belief in conspiracies. But this is nothing new. Ancient Christians distinguished themselves as some of the most hostile, intolerant people in history. So here is a hymn that tries to span the ages. If you don’t like the words, focus on the music. If you hate the music, focus on the lyrics. If you don’t like both, well, hell, I’ve missed again.
And here’s a poem that I dug up from an old notebook with poetry drafts from 1977-81. Mostly junk, but this one hit me.