Leave the Leaves in the Spring, too

What do the Swallowtail Butterflies, Bumble Bee Queens, and Fireflies have in common? They all depend on leaf litter as their home and protection during our winter months. For the last ten years there has been a growing movement to get people to leave the leaves in their yard in the fall to benefit wildlife. But the reasons are just as compelling to put off removing leaves in the spring.

As long ago as 2015, the National Wildlife Federation was advocating for leaving fall leaves, and the Xerces Society and others have taken up the call. And, somewhere along the line October was declared as “Leave the Leaves” month. To the extent that folks followed that advice, all sorts of critters have benefited. The bumble bee queens that burrow shallowly in the soil under a protecting layer of leaves, the adult Mourning Cloak Butterflies that tucked into the leaves, and the stick insect eggs that dropped from the tree or shrub on to the leaf litter all had better chances of surviving the winter.  

But for over ten years, a crucial element in backyard habitat protection has been ignored. Simply put, the leaf litter layer is like Nature’s winter coat for those creatures. And just like we don’t put our own winter coats away when we get the first sporadic, warm, sunny days, if we want to protect pollinating insects and those that will feed the birds who depend on them for food to raise their young, we should leave their winter coat in place, too. The temperatures will dip again and the insects will need the protection.  

It can be satisfying to clean up the yard and fill leaf bags with the refuse, and I’ve certainly filled my share of them, but I’ve learned the bags contain not only leaves and twigs, but insects at all stages of life: egg, larva, pupa, and adult. Many of them are small and even if visible, not recognizable because they look starkly different than the adults. And some are disguised, like the Swallowtail Butterfly pupae that mimics fallen leaves.

I understand the urge to do something, anything, to make the early spring yard look better. But if you’re hoping to support pollinators, and the birds who rely on insects to raise their young, April is too soon. Clear walkways to keep them safe, of course, but leaving the leaves this spring will help out not just the birds and the bees, but the butterflies, moths, and fireflies.

3 Stages of the Beauty of the Giant Leopard Moth

In 2015 I was living 15 miles out of town, on three acres with fields and woods on either side and woods across the street. Many of the photos I’ve posted to Bugguide.net were taken there. When we moved in 2018 to a village rental, I wondered how many insects I’d see. As it turned out, not many. The residential use of pesticides and clearing of any wild shrubby areas had done their work. Even when clover bloomed all over the lawns of the nearby college campus, there were hardly any bees foraging the nectar.

When I discovered the emerging Giant Leopard moth, Hypercompe scribonia, on a plant I’d moved indoors, it was a double pleasure – it is rare enough to witness important moments in an insect’s life, and it would especially rare in my new surroundings.

Here’s what the moth looked like when I first saw it –

Adult emerging
Giant Leopard Moth Adult emerging

Twenty minutes later the transformation was complete. These two photos are now 2 of a set of 3. I took the caterpillar’s photo on October 24, 2015. When the caterpillar is at its full length, it is a handsome black, when it curls into its protective position, the red intersegmental rings are on display.

The Giant Leopard Moth caterpillar
Giant Leopard moth caterpillar

Now we own a home in the village, and I’ll have a chance to try to establish a small oasis for insects here in our yard. In the swirl of human activity that glimmers with foolishness and sorrow, trying to take care of the pollinators and other insects in the face of all that is stacked against them seems a reasonable task. It is one that will remind me over and over that I, too, am an animal; that I have a share in their fate as surely as they have a share in mine.