On the Wings of Citizen Science: How a Former UTSC Professor Tracked the Migration of the Monarch Butterfly
A 37-year project involving hundreds of volunteers across the continent had its centre right here at UTSC.
Fred Urquhart had always been a bug guy. As a child, he spent hours in the fields of weeds and wildflowers by his house, finding different insects and collecting them in glass pickle jars. He pored over books by famous naturalists and insect field guides. He discovered a love for moths and butterflies, and one species, in particular, caught his attention: the monarch butterfly, Danaus Plexippus. With its beautiful and distinctive orange and black-striped wings, the monarch is one of Canada's most iconic butterfly species and has been the subject of much research by the nation's top insect experts. Young Fred saw hundreds in the woods by his house for much of the year. Come fall, Fred combed the same woods to no avail. The monarchs were gone, and Fred wanted to know where they went.
The monarch butterfly / Photo by Morgan Heim via WWF
In the early 20th century, many entomologists believed the butterfly, like many other insects, simply hibernated through the bitter Canadian winter. Others thought they migrated south, but no one knew where. Fred spent hours looking for sleeping monarchs near his house but found none. Still, it was possible he had simply missed a spot, left a stone or rotted log unturned. It was one of the many mysteries of the natural world that intrigued his young inquisitive mind.
As a young undergraduate at the University of Toronto (U of T), Fred studied crickets and grasshoppers, graduating with a B.A. in biology in 1935. He received a Bensley Fellowship to pursue graduate studies in entomology at the university, where he earned an M.A. in 1937 and a Ph.D. in 1940. The question of the monarchs' seasonal vanishing haunted him, like a ghost flapping along behind him on tiger-patterned wings. During his time as a graduate student, he also worked as a lecturer at the Royal Ontario Museum. His interest in the monarchs remained as strong as ever, but the museum was hit hard by the Great Depression and lacked the budget for monarch research. Fred took to studying the butterflies outside work hours, with no financial support for his investigation.
Dr. Fred Urquhart and his monarchs / Photo via University of Toronto
Even as World War II broke out, Fred remained committed to his butterflies. During his time as a meteorological officer in the Royal Canadian Air Force, he conducted surveys of monarch populations around Canada and studied their response to different weather patterns. This information would prove crucial in his later research as he tried to determine where the monarchs went for the winter.
To track individual butterflies' movements, Fred tagged their wings to mark them out to butterfly watchers in other parts of the continent. He pasted a small label printed with instructions to return the tagged specimen to his office address on each butterfly's wing. He released these monarchs into the wild. Many of them were returned to him, some from hundreds of kilometres away.
Fred didn't have to chase his butterflies alone. In 1945, he married Norah Patterson, a sociologist and fellow butterfly enthusiast. Like him, she was a U of T alum, having earned her B.A. from Victoria University in 1941 and a social work diploma in 1943. Together, they reared butterflies in their home in Scarborough, which locals affectionately called Butterfly Central.
After the war, the Chairman of the Museum Board recognized the value of Fred's research and, being interested in butterflies himself, allocated a portion of the museum's funds to support the monarch investigation. The Urquharts finally had the chance—and the money—to expand their research.
Norah and Fred Urquhart / Photo via University of Toronto Scarborough
The Urquharts experimented with different methods of tagging the butterflies in search of the perfect way to track their movements. Water-soluble glue quickly dissolved as the monarchs flew through rain, dropping their soggy tags along the way. Eventually, a colleague suggested using labels similar to price tags stuck to glassware. The smooth surface of the wing had a texture similar to glass, and the method worked wonderfully. It quickly became clear that they would need to tag thousands of butterflies to gather adequate data to track their migration. They had the setup for a grand experiment, but they couldn't do it alone.
In 1952, the Urquharts published an article in the magazine of the American Museum of Natural History, detailing their research and calling for volunteers willing to help with the tagging program. At first, they received only a few responses, out of which they established the Insect Migration Association, today known as Monarch Watch. The volunteers tagged butterflies and also returned found specimens to the Urquharts. As the project grew, it was covered by several local and national publications. More people learned about the project and kept their eyes peeled for the Urquharts' butterflies. It was citizen science on a continental scale. At its heart were the Urquharts, working out of their house and Fred's office on the UTSC campus, then known as Scarborough College, where Fred was also instrumental in developing and teaching the zoology program in 1966.
The tagging process depicted in the 1952 article / Photo via AMNH Digital Repository
The data from the monarch project was displayed on a map hung on the wall of the Urquhart home. The location of tagging and recapture were tracked for all returned butterflies. A southward pattern began to emerge. Fred and Norah made several expeditions in pursuit of the insects. The data suggested Texas may be the monarchs' destination. On arrival, it became clear that there simply weren't enough butterflies. Perhaps, they thought, the monarchs stopped over in Texas before continuing south to Mexico.
A trip to Mexico proved equally fruitless, with few leads on the monarchs. The Urquharts decided to turn to what had proved the greatest tool in their research: people. They wrote articles in both English and Spanish to be published in Mexican magazines and newspapers, asking readers to help them find the butterflies. It was one of these articles that led Kenneth Brugger, an American engineer and amateur naturalist working in Mexico City, to set out in search of the monarchs. Ken was no butterfly expert and he often sent the Urquharts specimens that he had mistaken for monarchs, but were actually a very different species. Still, he was enthusiastic and committed to contributing to the project. When he married Catalina Trail (then known as Cathy Aguado), her local's knowledge of the area helped her and Ken on their quest, which eventually led them to Michoacán, northwest of Mexico City. They had heard of hundreds of monarchs congregating in the mountains. Sensing a turning point in their search, Ken and Cathy rode up through the forests.
In 1975, Fred and Norah heard the news: the monarchs had been found, and there were a lot of them.
The topographic map tracking butterfly recaptures that hung on the Urquharts’ wall / Photo via Fred Urquhart
The Urquharts joined the other couple in the Neovolcanic Plateau of Mexico and trekked through the rugged terrain up to the valley where the butterflies spent winter break. There were millions of them, blanketing the trees and forest floor. When the sun caught their wings, the valley lit up in golden-orange. It was a stunning reward for nearly four decades of hard work.
On taking a closer look, the researchers found that one of the butterflies bore a familiar white label, marked by one of the Urquharts' volunteers in Minnesota. It had travelled over 2,000 kilometres before it was found by the Urquharts, providing irrefutable proof that the monarchs overwintering in the valley included those from distant parts of North America.
The discovery of the monarch's migration destination was published in National Geographic. A total of five overwintering sites were found in the mountains of Michoacán, and in 1979 the government designated these areas as ecological preserves to protect the monarch butterfly from the effects of logging operations. Fred detailed the process of their research in his 1987 book The Monarch Butterfly: International Traveler, in which he thanked the thousands of citizen scientists who participated in the project. For their contribution to Canadian science, Fred and Norah were awarded the Order of Canada in 1998.
Catalina Trail and the monarchs of Cerro Pelón on the August 1976 cover of National Geographic / Photo via National Geographic
Another recognition of the Urquharts' work lies right here on the UTSC campus. In 2014, the Urquhart Memorial Garden was inaugurated on campus as a tribute to the beloved former zoology professor. The garden is full of plants and flowers that attract monarchs and provide them with breeding sites and food sources. A plaque tells passersby and curious students out on a post-lecture walk about the Urquharts and their remarkable discovery.
Urquhart Memorial Garden on the UTSC campus / Photo via University of Toronto
Today, the monarch butterfly is endangered in its Canadian and American breeding grounds. The butterflies rely on species of milkweed plants as egg-laying sites and food sources for the larvae. These plants are on the decline along the monarchs' northward migration route due to agricultural herbicide and urban development. Logging in the US and Canadian habitats also threatens the butterflies’ future survival.
However, citizen scientists are once again driving monarch research. Recent efforts of Monarch Watch in conserving monarch populations include planting milkweed in the butterflies' habitat, and tagging programs to uncover more information about the monarchs’ migration and threats along its path. Other projects include the Monarch Larva Monitoring Project and Mission Monarch, which educate volunteers on tracking and monitoring monarchs as well as planting milkweed. All of these projects are driven by ordinary people committed to protecting the iconic butterfly.
Citizen scientists record data for a tagged monarch / Photo by Anne Okonek via U.S. Forest Service
Walking in the Valley, there aren't many monarch butterflies to be seen. It's late in the fall, and they're probably well on their way to the mountains of Mexico. It's strange to think of them so far away, even though we know they will be back soon. Wherever they go, they are welcomed by the people that look up in amazement as orange wings flutter past. We are both their admirers and protectors, the knights to their royalty.
