As I hurried around my house this morning gathering things for a Sunday dinner in St. Marys, PA with my family, I was kept company by the movie “The Queen” playing on TV. I only saw the first half hour or so of the movie; when I left for St. Marys, the Queen was just starting to twist in the wind a bit as she wrestled with the planning for Diana’s funeral and several centuries of tradition. Diana was no longer a member of the royal family, so tradition dictated that she should have a private, family funeral. But the times were changing, and the tyranny of tradition contradicted popular sentiment. Quite a dilemma for arguably, the world’s most famous monarch. (I hope to find a replay of the movie sometime this month to see just how the decisions were made.)

 

I finally headed out. Shortly after I crossed Short Mountain on Route 22, THWAP! a monarch butterfly flew into my radio antenna. “Too bad,” I thought. “There’s one that won’t make the trip to Mexico.” I have always been fascinated by the migration of the monarchs. It boggles my mind to think that such a seemingly fragile and beautiful creature makes the trip from North America to Mexico. An entire continent is systematically depopulated, then repopulated each year. Amazing. (Check out this website -- YOU can help track the migration of the monarchs! Hurry -- it's just beginning, so sign up now.)

 

Assuming that the butterfly did not survive the initial collision, I made my way north. The butterfly was stuck to the antenna, its body hugging the mast as its wings wrapped back around it. When I reached Philipsburg, PA, it was still there. I thought it would fall off when I stopped for a traffic light, but it didn’t.

 

Driving along at highways speeds, the wings became tattered. After two hours on the road, I arrived at my destination. Before I got out of the car, I looked at the butterfly splayed on the antenna, amazed that the monarch had not been blown off. Then I noticed the movement of the legs. It was still alive! Its wings were shredded. On closer examination, I noticed that its thorax was split open. As I looked, the legs stopped moving. It had twisted in the wind at more than 60 miles an hour for 100 miles, and it had survived. This was one tough butterfly, truly a queen of the animal kingdom. I’m sorry that I accidentally brought it to such a violent ending.

 

But then it occurred to me that this was the second monarch I’d watched twisting in the wind today.

 

The queen is dead; long live the Queen.