Sitting in the meadow my young-at-heart companion pointed to
the bright creature winging by. "A flutter-by!"
|
Monarch of the realm |
We discovered that blooming goldenrod is a fine place to find
these late summer beauties.
|
Common Ringlet, of the family Nymphalidae |
We took pictures, and looked up butterfly names. The
butterflies come from different families. This made sense, because we come from
different families too.
|
American Lady, Nymphalidae |
Family names flew around in our imaginations. Nymphalidae sounded like dancers in a
Russian ballet.
|
Clouded Sulphur, Pieridae |
When we pronounced all the letters those names came smiling
out like music.
|
Pink-edged Sulphur, Pieridae |
We found out that the Pierides were the nine daughters of
King Pierus who defied the Muses in a contest of song. In defeat they were
turned into birds, which didn't seem like a loss.
|
Eastern Tailed-Blue, Lycaenidae |
We mused on the world of early naturalists who wrote in Latin
and Greek. They were developing modern systems of classification to expand ancient
knowledge. They laced their scientific nomenclature with classical imagery.
|
American Copper, Lycaenidae |
We pictured those robust insect collectors with knapsacks
and nets and walking sticks clambering out of canoes, sliding down rocky screes,
chasing insect novelties. We pictured desiccated academics adding desiccated
specimens to desiccated collections. We savored all of their dreams of
discovery and of name-giving at the
frontier of knowledge.
|
Red-banded
Hairstreak, Lycaenidae |
Name-giving puts language into life, and vice versa. It
makes things memorable for people. Naturally the name-givers would sanctify
both their systematics, and each newly added species, by turning to ancient
sources for names. Perhaps they were able to honor a colleague.
Over
the centuries some of the meaning has become obscure, but classical names still
taste like rooted romance. We liked saying
Lycaenidae over and over until
it slid easily over our tongues.
|
Peck's
Skipper, Hesperiidae |
When it came to the Skipper family
our imaginations fluttered. Hesperiidae
refers to nymphs in charge of the golden light of sunsets. 2
We learned that our modestly colored local Skippers have ravishing relatives in
other parts of the world.
Our time meandering through internet references was as
delightful as the hours afield. We wanted to offer you a couple of delicious
sidetracks as footnotes to our story.
_________
1. The
etymology of the genus Lycaena has
vague and different interpretations. Some maintain that it comes from Lycia, an
epithet of the goddess Diana, some from lukaina
= she-wolf, others from Lukaios or Lycaeus of Lyceus, the name given to some
gods worshipped on the mount Lycaeum in the old Arcadia. Still others from
Lykaon, king of Arcadia or from Lukeion, a gymnastics school of old Athens
where the mastery of the gymnasts was said to imitate the frantic flight of
this butterfly.
Monaco Nature Encyclopedia (online) by Dr. Gianfranco
Colombo, trans. Mario Beltramini
2. Hesperiidae [means] “land of the
evening” and was applied to Italy by Aeneas, the Trojan prince who founded Rome
in Virgil’s Aeneid. Aeneas, as a Trojan, had to travel west towards the evening
or setting sun to reach Italy. The genus Hesperia
was first created in 1793 by Johan Fabricius (1745-1808) when Hesperia comma (our own Common Branded
Skipper) was moved by Fabricius from the genus Papilio (the genus into which Linnaeus (1707-1778) placed all
butterflies and skippers) to this newly created genus. The type locality of Hesperia comma, (meaning the place from
which the specimen originally described by Linnaeus was from) is Sweden. Why,
then, would Fabricius have named the genus for a classical word meaning Italy?
The answer, I believe, lies in the evening sky. In Greek mythology, the three
Hesperides, sisters named Hespere, (“evening”), Aegle (“dazzling light”) and
Erytheis (“Crimson”) lived in the far west in the apple orchard of Hera. I
believe Fabricius used the name Hesperia
as a genus for those dazzling, golden-hued skippers that were clad in the
colors of an evening sunset – reddish-orange and yellow. Certainly the skippers
in the genus now comprising Hesperia,
including Common Branded Skipper, fit that description.
"Taxonomists Just Wanna Have Fun: All
in the (Sub) Family," Harry Zirlin, American Butterflies, Vol 14 No 3/4, Fall/Winter 2006.