Once one becomes a butterflier, one inevitably becomes aware of a few differences of opinion among one’s colleagues about our “hobby”. (There’s one right there: is butterflying a hobby or a sport or an avocation or a passion or what?) Most butterfliers I’ve come to know are gentle folk, so the differences rarely reach the point of shouting or fisticuffs or hard feelings. But there are a few issues about which amateur and professional lepidopterists feel pretty strongly. You’ll find some who like to defend their positions with friends who take different views.

Perhaps “collecting” is the number-one area of difference, especially when it is coupled with the related but perhaps more innocent activity of “netting.” I mentioned in an earlier column that collecting butterflies is mainly done by the professionals, who need to collect and kill them in order to study them in their laboratories. While that’s true, a few amateurs like to do some collecting on their own, perhaps to start their own set of mounted butterflies to admire on winter evenings.

The whole issue of non-professionals collecting butterflies is skewed by a few greedy entrepreneurs who deal in the sale of mounted specimens. Some have been known to visit an area and to clean out a whole population of a rare or unusual butterfly species in order to sell specimens at surprisingly high prices.

As a reaction against those destructive few, some authorities have forbidden all netting in parks or nature preserves for which they are responsible. One such officer caught me in the act. When I protested that I was innocently netting, identifying and releasing butterflies, he riposted, “How am I to know which of you are doing that and which are shameless dealers? That’s why we have NO NETS policy!” (I meekly put my net away and skulked off.)

Other anti-netters cite the unintended injury to the bugs caused by us netters in the process of catching and handling them. Most of us beginners and semi-beginners who have tried netting have to out regret hurt or killed a butterfly or several. As we get better at the game (“game?”), we do less damage, but, let’s face it, we’re still somewhat dangerous to fast-moving, elusive beauties in the field.

Personally, I love to net. I love the challenge and the excitement and the exercise. But I must somewhat grudgingly admit that I increasingly respect the position of out parent organization, NABA, in forbidding nets on NABA field trips. Those of us who attend the NABA national convention next summer in Oregon will (sob!) have to leave our nets at home. (The convention will be held on the last weekend of July; watch for more information in coming issues of AMERICAN BUTTERFLIES.)

G’num2002Vol3No2