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Red Admiral: An Ogemaw County Year


The first strong sunlight of spring filters through the edge of the forest, casting golden patches on the soft, greening earth. I find myself drawn to these bright spots, and as I pause beneath the bare, reaching arms of the trees, a flash of color catches my eye—a red admiral butterfly, its wings a vivid mosaic of black, red, and white, basking in the warmth.


The butterfly perches on a sun-soaked log, its wings angled just right to absorb the sun’s rays. When open, those bold red-orange bands streak across the black, a sharp contrast softened only by the delicate white spots near the wingtips. When closed, its underwings transform into a more muted display of browns and grays, a camouflage against bark and leaf litter. It’s a clever adaptation, offering this small creature a dual identity—bold and beautiful when it chooses, and nearly invisible when it must be.


The red admiral (Vanessa atalanta) is a butterfly with a fascinating life history, especially here in Michigan. Unlike some butterflies that overwinter as adults tucked away in leaf litter or tree hollows, the red admiral is primarily a migratory species. They travel north each spring from the southern United States and even Mexico, their journeys timed with the warming temperatures and the emergence of their host plants—mostly stinging nettle (Urtica dioica) around here.


I think about the life stages of this little traveler. The adult I see now likely emerged from an egg laid on the underside of a nettle leaf. The caterpillar, spiny and dark with yellowish stripes, would have constructed a tent-like shelter by folding a leaf with silk. Hidden away, it fed and grew, shedding its skin several times before pupating. The chrysalis, a curious structure that might have dangled from a stem, held all the promise of this perfect afternoon—the transformation from a grounded creature into a winged marvel.


Red admirals are common throughout Michigan, their numbers fluctuating with the season and migration patterns. They thrive in a variety of habitats, from woodland edges like this to gardens, parks, and fields. Their adaptability is a strength—wherever nectar is available, whether from dandelions and willows in spring or asters and goldenrod in fall, the red admiral can make itself at home.


Conservation-wise, the red admiral is considered secure, both in Michigan and across its range. It benefits from its broad diet and habitat preferences, as well as its migratory habits, which reduce its vulnerability to localized threats. Still, the health of native plant communities, including host plants like nettle, remains important to support these and other pollinators.


As I watch, the butterfly lifts from its perch, its flight quick and darting. It moves deeper into the forest, weaving through sunbeams and shadows, a little ember against the cool undertones of the woods. I linger a while longer, grateful for this early sign of spring, for the reminder of resilience in such a small, bright package.

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