Each spring, hundreds of thousands of Painted Lady butterflies embark on a journey that is nothing short of miraculous — a 4,500-mile migration from the sub-Saharan region of Africa to the Arctic Circle. Over the course of a year, these tiny creatures will fly more than 9,000 miles. For Catholics, this breathtaking journey offers more than a marvel of nature; it is a call to reflect on the resilience of creation and our sacred duty to protect it.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that “each creature possesses its own particular goodness and perfection” and that “man must respect the particular goodness of every creature” (CCC 339). The story of the Painted Lady butterfly invites us to do just that.
According to The New York Times, this “epic trip” spans across continents and even oceans. Painted Ladies are “one of the most widely distributed butterflies in the world, appearing on every continent except Antarctica.” In a discovery made just last year, scientists documented that these butterflies were capable of riding winds across the Atlantic Ocean — “the first documented insect journey across an ocean” (Nezhukumatathil, The New York Times).
This extraordinary migration has been captured in photographer Lucas Foglia’s new book, Constant Bloom, which follows the butterflies’ path for three years. Their journey is not just biological — it’s theological. These butterflies demonstrate what Pope Francis calls the “symphony of creation,” where all life gives glory to God and exists in harmony (Laudato Si’, 85).
The Painted Ladies face many challenges, from habitat loss to climate change. As the Times reports, “they are forced to lay eggs on plants near roads and upturned soil from building developments,” and they rely on cultivated areas like “parks, farms and gardens” for nectar. Their adaptability is impressive, but it does not mean they are immune to harm.
While there is no evidence of population decline for Painted Ladies specifically, “a recent study revealed that American butterfly populations decreased 22 percent between 2000 and 2020, in part because of habitat loss, climate change and farmers’ use of insecticides” (Nezhukumatathil, The New York Times). These statistics should concern every Catholic who takes seriously the call to care for creation — what Pope Francis terms our “common home.”
Despite these trials, the butterflies remain resilient. Each leg of the journey is undertaken by a new generation — as many as ten in one full migration cycle — with the spring generation mating in the Mediterranean and their descendants continuing northward. “The butterflies that leave Africa are not the same ones that return the next spring,” the article explains. “Think of it as a butterfly relay race” (Nezhukumatathil, The New York Times).
Even when their wings grow “paler, more shredded at the outer edges,” these insects persevere, nourished by the nectar of God’s bounty. It’s a striking metaphor for the human condition — we, too, carry on in faith, sometimes battered by the world, yet strengthened by the grace of God.
Dr. Gerard Talavera, a scientist from the Institut Botànic de Barcelona, helped discover where these butterflies spend their winters. Working with researchers across six countries, he found they reside in the semiarid and humid savannas of Africa from September to February. This kind of international cooperation is a model for the global solidarity Pope Francis calls for in Laudato Si’ — where nations unite to protect “the delicate ecological balance that these butterflies — and the planet — rely on” (Nezhukumatathil, The New York Times).
The lesson from the Painted Lady is deeply spiritual. As Aimee Nezhukumatathil concludes, “Even if our wings become frayed and raggedy after a long and difficult journey, it’s not too late to find new ways to persist. It’s not too late to come together to address the most urgent issues of our time” (The New York Times).
Let us be reminded that God’s creation is not only to be admired but also safeguarded. Just as these butterflies depend on blooming fields and gentle winds, so too does the rest of creation depend on our actions. May we be faithful stewards of the earth — wings tattered or not — pressing onward in hope, unity, and love.
