gardening

A Blooming Surprise

~ lmachayes

Two days ago we awoke to a temperature of 27˚ and the ground was covered with frost. And the Juncos flew into the yard. And so it seemed that autumn was turning a new page.

But . . . the day before the frost, as I walked along a local trail, something tiny captured my attention and as I bent down, I realized that despite the fact that the leaves of this Low-bush Blueberry had shut down their food production process and let the anthocyanin that had been stored in the leaves finally show through since chlorophyll was no longer a key factor, the plant was flowering.

There were somewhere between a dozen and two flowers in bloom on this one plant. After seeing that, I checked others, but didn’t spot any more flowers.

Of course, I did what I always do when such an event occurs, and immediately sent the photos to my nephew who lives in southwestern New Hampshire. The past few years we’ve exchanged such photos when the out-of-the-ordinary occurs and last year it seems like we found a bunch of species in bloom at the wrong time. This was the first for both of us this year, and as he commented, probably because it’s been so dry. But still, it’s also been hot and the flowers seem to get confused–more than they used to, at least in our memories. How about for you?

And so today I stopped by St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Bridgton, Maine, because I love the land that surrounds the building and wondered what it might have to offer. I actually stopped by twice–first in the late morning, and then again in the middle of the afternoon.

Seeing Hawkweed both in bloom and preparing to send seeds forth for future blooms wasn’t a surprise at all, for this flower is prolific and hardy.

A few Goldenrods had also not yet achieved their gray-head status and instead served as beacons of light for any who were searching.

And the few Bumbleebees I saw gave thanks that there was still some food available.

But then I spotted it . . . A single Bluet, aka Mayflower, one of our early bloomers that blossoms in May, showing off its perky little face between two grave markers in the church’s burial site.

I gave thanks for the Bluet, because it was located between two dear friends who died within months of each other, after a marriage of 71 years! To spend a few minutes wondering about the Bluet with them today was a blessing.

And no matter where I walked, be it the church lawn, woods, or parking lot, it seemed there were Autumn Meadowhawk Skimmer dragonflies, this being the male. If I moved, they moved a slight bit, but then landed nearby every time.

The females were also flying and landing everywhere I went. And I truly expected to find a pair canoodling, but they seemed more interested in landing near me than chasing each other for a date.

While female Autumn Meadowhawks are typically pale brown, as they mature, their abdomens may turn red like that of their male counterpart.

Of course, they all need to watch out for this guy. Or maybe he needs to watch out for them. The Spined Assassin Bug was on the move–the hunter or the hunted I don’t know, but it was just a fun find. And beside the church parking lot of all places. But then again, churches welcome all, especially those who are not perfect. Thank goodness!

As I continued to explore, I spotted one of my favorite fall finds dancing through the air rather like a little fairy, though some think of it as a snowflake, and just yesterday someone described these insects as bits of ash. All make sense to me.

I captured this one so I could take a closer look at those iridescent wings and the waxy fluff on the abdomen.

And then I released it onto a fern frond.

I invite you to notice the hint of blue as well.

This is the teeny, tiny Asian Woolly Hackberry Aphid, one who is searching for a sap source.

And then I came upon another surprise that I had forgotten. It was hiding below some leaves at about breast height.

A few of us first spotted this nest back in June when we accidentally approached it because we couldn’t see it hiding as it was below leaves, but Momma Red-eyed Vireo suddenly flew off. We apologized to her, took a quick photo of her eggs and promised her we would leave her be so she could raise her young in this place that we hoped provided safety. I never checked on her again.

But looking at the nest today, it appeared that she had a successful breeding season.

Looking at some Northern Red Oak leaves, like those that hid the nest, I was reminded of stained glass. Ours is a church that doesn’t have stained glass windows, but rather allows the outside world in. The ever-changing qualities of the natural world as seen through the windows serve as the scenes for us all to ponder each season.

And ours is a church with a group of people who wander out the door each week with others always welcome to join us as we wonder about all that surrounds us. We call ourselves Trail Snails, because slow is the manner of our movement.

And we have a mascot that was gifted to us by a couple from First Congregational in Bridgton, for they occasionally have joined our group to wander and wonder. T.S., short for Trail Snails, loves to pose along the way.

It’s also a church that knows the power of prayer and the ribbons tied onto the arbor actually represent specific prayers of parishioners and people we’ve only met for the first time.

And there’s a beautiful Memorial Garden where all the flowers have now gone to sleep, but their leaves and seedheads offer different colors and textures in this season and anyone is welcome to sit in this space.

This all brings me around to my opening thoughts, for as I rounded the corner of the church building this morning, a shocking pink color on a bush mostly gone to fruit beckoned a closer look.

I wasn’t the only one peering in, for a Spotted Cucumber Beetle was making the rounds on the anthers within one of the flowerheads.

Blueberries, and Bluets, and even a Rose–a blooming surprise was each on this the eleventh day of October. Plus all the other wonder-filled finds.

Bee Quiet

~ lmachayes ~ 2 Comments

They’re large. They’re robust. They’re in constant motion. Well, almost constant motion. You see, this story begins when I looked out a couple of windows at 6:00am. And then stepped outside.

For in the back garden, on the western side of the house, . . .

on more than one flower and in more than one pose, . . .

as well as in the driveway-side garden on the eastern side, Bumblee Bees slept.

I knew insects slept on plants and under leaves, but until this week I had only paid a wee bit of attention. And then, I went into my usual stalking mode and My Guy was rather amused.

Have you ever watched a Bumble Bee sleep? Even as the breeze blew its bed?

Because I was paying so much attention, I discovered one highly camouflaged Crab Spider had captured a Bee and turned it into a meal. While this may seem an easy task, for spiders capture insects in their webs all the time, I’ve come to learn that that isn’t always the case as I continued to watch this particular one. But I’m getting ahead of myself. In this moment, she had already immobilized her meal of choice and then secreted digestive enzymes into its body to break down its tissues.

That process meant she now had a Honey-flavored Smoothie or perhaps a RootBee Float to drink, the insect becoming a liquified meal.

As I moved back and forth between gardens, I realized I wasn’t the only one paying attention, though the female Hummingbird had nectar and not Bees on its mind.

After leaving home for a few hours, I returned to find this Snowberry Clearwing Moth resting on a Hosta. My, how its fuzzy golden body and black abdomen mimicked those of the Bees.

As for the Hummingbirds, the Bees were not bothered. As for me, I tend to get in the Bees’ way, but they gently let me know by flying toward me and then backing off.

One of my realizations was how much nectar the plants produce, and of course, how so many insects are rewarded with this sugary treat–as well as these little birds. Don’t get me wrong. I know plants produce a lot of nectar, but I hadn’t thought about how when it is depleted, it takes the plant time to create more. And each plant is visited over and over again. I guess I’m just jazzed that this year I’m seeing more pollinators in the gardens and field than I have in a long, long time.

Including a Tricolored or Orange-belted Bumble Bee, which I saw in the field the day before and then in the driveway garden adding its own buzz to the story.

And still the Hummingbird flew in.

When I was a kid, my mother planted Beebalm around the base of a tree in our front yard and I detested the smell of it. But as an adult, I cannot wait for these flowers to blossom in our gardens, and usually within a day the Hummingbirds arrive–seemingly out of nowhere.

Another learning of the day(s) was that because it’s cooler in the late afternoon on the eastern side of the house, the Bees slow down sooner and actually tuck themselves into bed over the course of several hours.

Not all beds are the same, and its interesting to see what the choice might be, like this Hosta flower.

It was after 7 pm before the Bees on the western, and therefore sunnier side, decided to find a place to repose for the night.

The next morning, while most of the Bees were still asleep, I discovered that Madam Crab Spider had turned her meal around overnight. I don’t know why, but I could also see the faint lines of silk that she had used to secure it in place.

She had a plan and it wasn’t for me to know, but I appreciated understanding that she had received energy from the Bee, who had ultimately received energy from the flowers, which had received their energy from the sun, and so the web she wove was full of the circle of life.

Meanwhile, on the shadier side of the house, the Bumblers were just beginning to rise after a long night’s sleep and given that the temperatures have been in the 50˚s these past few nights, it was heavenly naps I’m sure they experienced. I know I did.

Have you ever watched a Bumble Bee wake up? Notice its antennae starting to quiver, and the same for its abdomen. I had to wonder if both were an act to warm up its body on such a cool morning.

And before it had that first sip of nectary caffeine, the Bee seemed to wobble around, rather unsure of its footing.

Once the sun warmed the world up for everyone, the Hummer started flying as well.

A moment I didn’t capture that she and I both shared, occurred just after I took the videos above. She had flown into the garden much to my surprise because I was standing right there, rather than my usual distance away (think telephoto lens), and in flew her Mr. He alludes my camera because his visits aren’t as often, and they are fast. As was the case in this instance. All I could do was watch as she moved below the blossoms and paused on a leaf to watch him. And he performed an aerial dance creating figure eights over and over again, before flying off. It was one of those moments that will be forever etched on my brain.

As for the Bee that had been the Spider’s meal–once she was done with it, she had discarded it and I found the body on the granite stone below the flowers. The color was a bit different, and in my brain, I wonder if the Bee’s pollen bags had exploded upon impact.

I again left for a wee bit of time, but when I returned, much was still the same.

Except–the Bee’s body was missing. And only some legs and a wing remained. Where had they gone, I wondered.

Above, Bee after Bee tempted the Spider, but she didn’t make a move and I suspected she was sated for the moment.

And below, I suddenly figured out what had happened to the body, being the great tracker that I am (LOL!) An Ant removed the body parts one by one.

The Hummer still flew, and occasionally took a break right above my head and I was grateful for the opportunity to watch it without it realizing I was there.

The Spider began to change position, and move from one plant to the next and even when I thought she’d take a meal, she didn’t listen to me.

The Ant completely removed all signs of the Bee and I suspect there’s one mighty happy Ant family in the garden.

And the Bees. Well they are hardly quiet, but all that buzz is a wonderful thing.

I give thanks to them and their friends like the Great Black Wasp with its iridescent blue wings, and the Great Golden Digger Wasp with its orange and black coloration, and the Hover Flies, and the Skipper Butterflies and Tiger Swallowtail Butterflies, and so many others who feast here because I know that they are doing all of us a service by pollinating the food we eat–it doesn’t get any better than that.

Next time you see Bees in your yard, I encourage you to Bee Quiet and maybe they’ll share their stories with you as well.

Because of the Monarch

~ lmachayes

Just as a couple of friends and I were finishing a walk this morning, we spotted a Monarch Butterfly. One gal commented that it seemed too early, but I mentioned people have been posting pictures of them for the last couple of weeks. For all of us, that was the first of this season.

Back at home, I decided to do one of my favorite summer activities and stalk the gardens. Mind you, my gardens are not at all organized; they are rather like me–messy yet a wee bit colorful. I call them cottage gardens, but even those are probably not as random as these.

That said, they attract and provide for all kinds, including the Robber Flies who hide and wait and wait and hide.

Until a meal, such as an Oriental Beetle, enters the scene. I unfortunately missed the drama of the catch, but love that the Robber Fly was so focused on its meal that it stayed extremely still upon the granite post as it dined. As for the beetle, I was grateful for the fly because such beetles are garden pests.

In case you aren’t familiar with an Oriental Beetle, it’s similar in size to a Japanese Beetle, but as you can see, is much more drab in color. Those antennae, however, are fabulous and make me think that beetles with such are carrying around a set of forks, the better to create a salad.

Above the Robber Fly, a Silver-Spotted Skipper flitted between the Gooseneck Loosestrife that has taken over the driveway garden, and Hostas that are now blooming, seeking nectar wherever it was available.

Skippers are in the butterfly family and have you ever thought about how hairy they can be. Actually, I’m pretty sure the entire natural world is hairy.

Speaking of hair, its certainly true for the Common Eastern Bumble Bee, who stuck his red tongue into the plant’s nectary.

I’ve seen only a couple of Honey Bees so far this summer, but the gardens are full of Bumble Bees, as is the field beyond, and that makes me so happy.

And if you are worried about these critters stinging–they can and will if annoyed. But I’ve learned to be calm and quiet and they let me get into their space. If they don’t want me there, they simple take to flight and circle me or charge at me, but I know that is a warning and I need to slowly move away and give them their space.

Two-spotted Bumble Bees are also abundant. Notice his beard. And the yellow bands on his abdomen.

Also enjoying the offerings was a Gold-marked Thread-waisted Wasp, the first sighting of this species for me this year. Though in hind sight, I do think I spotted one dragging a dead spider across the patio the other day and suspected it was on its way to a nest to feed some young.

In another garden, I encountered a new-to-me moth doing its own wonderful job of pollination on an Ox-eyed Daisy. This is a Grapeleaf Skeletonizer Moth. Yeegads. What a name for such a lovely creature who held its wings straight out and flat the entire time I watched it. We do have grape leaves along a stonewall near the garden. And it also likes a relative of grapes, Virginia Creeper, and that too colonizes the wall.

One preferring not to be seen, was this little Crab Spider. I love that it has created a hiding spot by “sewing” the daisy petals together. And now it waits. Actually, by now, I’m sure it has had several meals and treats since I spotted it several hours ago.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t give time to the female Blue Dasher. I’ve seen her guy in the field, but she liked hanging out on the old Digitalis stalk. It was quite gnatty today, given the humidity, and I was hoping she’d make a meal or two, but I’m not sure that happened.

Instead, she spent her time in the obelisk posture, standing on her “hands” and sticking her abdomen up toward the sun to prevent overheating.

All of those creatures I saw because about an hour after arriving home from my walk, I saw a flash of orange out the window and realized that we too had a Monarch. It alluded me at first, but then I spotted it.

I remember when our 30-something sons were young, the Monarchs covered flowering shrubs with their presence. And now, sadly, we celebrate one.

I can only hope that as the summer progresses, this butterfly finds a mate, canoodles, and produces many more. I can only hope.

But . . . because of the Monarch drawing me back outdoors, when I was by one garden and had my back to our woods, I heard a scratching noise that didn’t sound normal.

Fully expecting it to be a squirrel, I turned around to peek. And was totally surprised by what I saw.

Oh, how I love it when that happens. Go without expectations. And be fully surprised.

As it crawled backwards down the tree, my heart sang.

One of my favorite critters was descending.

I did wonder, however, which way he would go once he reached the ground.

I had nothing to fear, for he headed toward another of the stonewalls that encompass our land.

He wasn’t aware of me, for the quills on this Porcupine’s back were not raised. Apparently I didn’t smell all that sweaty after all, for their sight and hearing are not great, but they do have a sense of odors, hard to believe given how much the scat that surrounds their dens stinks.

As he waddled over the stonewall and onto the trail I’ve created in the woods, I gave thanks for the butterfly.

Because of the Monarch . . .

My Little World

~ lmachayes ~ 4 Comments

Between our six acre plot of land and our neighbors’ field, which is probably about three or four acres, I feel like we live in a special place. Oh, I know I’m not alone and so many others have their own special places. What I’m most grateful for, however, is the ability to enjoy it by wandering and wondering on an almost daily basis and getting to know it intimately. That said, there are always surprises and perhaps that’s what makes it extra special in my eyes.

One day recently, after spotting no activity for about two months at the Bluebird Box My Guy had nailed to a tree along one of the stonewalls, I noticed activity. In the form of a House Wren.

For hours, sticks were picked up and brought to the box, the better to build a platform for the nest cup to rest upon. Sometimes they were too big. At least to my untrained mind.

But a little finagling this way and that; I admired such perseverance. And knowledge.

Tada, in that stick did go to join the others. With many more to come.

For two days, the Wren worked in the same manner. And then. Nothing. Being a Male Wren, it was just being a Male Wren . . . filling a possible site here and probably in other boxes near the field, as well as in tree cavities and she chose a different piece of real estate to set up housekeeping.

To say I’m disappointed is an understatement, but it’s the Wren Way. And I’m only a guest here.

I love being a guest here because I see all sorts of Natives make themselves known, including this youngster who followed in the footsteps of its parents, crossing the yard at an angle. Fortunately, the backdoor often serves as a screen so I can photograph many of the species with whom we share this land and not disturb them.

That same “screen” helped me capture a shot of an immature Red-bellied Woodpecker, who has the slightest hint of his parents’ crimson red upon his head. He stops by at least once a day, but is always in motion. And never stays long.

The Cardinals also bring their young to visit on a regular occasion, and sometimes the young’uns even come on their own. Watching them reminds me that many wild parents are amazing caregivers. Beavers and White-tailed Deer and Moose and Coyotes are among those who stay together as a family unit for a year or more. But not all are the same, like the frogs and salamanders who lay eggs and then leave the vernal pool.

What I have to wonder is how does this all work–why do some stay with their young and others abandon them?

Speaking of young’uns a wee bit more, as I headed up to the field, I met a recently fledged Robin, its breast all speckled. Though the Robins are constant backyard visitors, it wasn’t till I wandered about the yard that I found their nest.

And now I regret that I didn’t realize its position earlier, for I would have enjoyed keeping an eye on it.

As I said, the field belongs to our neighbors and I’m eternally grateful that they mow a path meant for them and their dogs, but I’m allowed to trespass by climbing over one of our stonewalls . . . and I do. Daily. Sometimes several times a day.

It’s a place that serves as one of my classrooms and I’m always amazed at who I meet there, including this Frosted Whiteface Skimmer Dragonfly. The yellow and black thorax and base of the abdomen, indicate this is a female. And though you can’t see her white face, she has yellow spots on the thorax segments 4 to 7, with 7 being very small.

The most abundant butterfly of the season so far is the Tiger Swallowtail, and this one took advantage of the flowering Dogwoods at the top of the field.

Everywhere, there were Calico Pennants, one of my favorites (one out of a million), this being the female with her yellow markings.

While My Guy practices Yoga several times a week, the dragonflies do so even more frequently, especially if its super hot, like today’s temp of 91˚ that felt like 96˚, or so the weather app told me.

The Calico’s handstand is actually an obelisk posture, with the abdomen pointing toward the sun in a manner meant to minimize the surface area exposed to solar radiation. Again, I am in awe.

Calico’s male, bedecked in red, chose the same stance.

Back over the wall and into our yard, Oriental Beetles are making their presence known. What captures my attention is the texture of wings and thorax, and the hairy and spiky legs, and the funky antennae that look like handmade forks.

Apparently some mistake them for this, the Japanese Beetle, but though there are similarities in the wings and antennae, in my brain that’s it. These are not insects high on anyone’s list of favorites, but look at that iridescent green thorax and the hairy, dotted design on its abdomen.

I also spent time circling my newest pollinator garden and among the frequent visitors are the Fritillary Butterflies.

I do, however, worry about some other visitors who keep dining on the flowers rather than pollinating them.

In the wee hours of the morning and all night long, Deer stop by to nibble. There are at least two does and two fawns, and so far the garden has enough to offer them, and the pollinators, and me. But I do worry.

Especially since via the Game Camera I discovered that a neighbor I thought had moved on is still around, and the end of the garden may be in the mouth of the Woodchuck. I hope not, but we’ll see what happens.

That said, there’s another new neighbor in the ‘hood. Remember the male Wren who worked so hard to fill the birdhouse with sticks? And then I didn’t see him at this spot again. A few days later I spotted a male Bluebird checking it out. And tada . . . a female is sitting on eggs, I do believe.

My little world. It may be small, but really, it’s huge. This is only a smattering of what happens here daily and nightly and I feel so honored to be granted the opportunity to keep an eye on it all. It so enhances my life to spend time wandering and wondering upon these acres.

I hope you have a little world to explore and get to know intimately.