The Giant’s Shower

My Guy, The Giant Butterfly Whisperer

~ lmachayes ~ 3 Comments

It’s Monday. And that typically means a Mondate for My Guy and me. Especially if he’s worked all weekend. And a Mondate most often means a hike. So, that being that, we headed off to conquer two trails today. Neither was overly long, and one was rather easy, while the other was moderately difficult. But both offered sightings that have us still smiling.

I’ll start with the second hike of the day because this is my blog and I can do that sort of thing. We were in Shelburne, New Hampshire, and so on our way back to Maine, we stopped at the Shelburne Forest, a trail we tried to hike a year or two ago, only the Mosquitoes or Black Flies or both were so thick, that after about a quarter mile we turned around and raced out–treating ourselves to ice cream sundaes in Bethel, Maine, instead.

Today was different. Blue Sky. Slight Breeze. 75˚.

We soon began to notice a theme along the River Trail. First we encountered several Fox scats, indicating this spot may have marked a territory. It seemed like it was important enough to return and leave a sign again, and again, and again.

A wee bit farther and more Fox scat.

And several displays of Moose scat, this one being from this past winter, while another had more debris on it and was starting to break down, indicating a previous winter.

We also noted Beaver works in the form of a dam, plus some cut trees on the trail beside a steep embankment to the river. And deer prints and scat. And coyote scat.

I mentioned that I’d like to come back in the winter to see who spends time here.

My Guy’s response, “Anyone else might think you were talking about people, but I know you are not.”

He gets me!

I had two other favorite sightings along this “Scat” trail. The first being the leaves of Trout Lilies. NUMEROUS leaves of Trout Lilies. So now I know I need to return soon to see the flowers, rather than just wait until winter.

And a Garter Snake that surprised My Guy because it was in the middle of the Forest Trail as we completed a loop, but quickly slithered away.

I kept hoping it would stick its tongue out to get a sense of its surroundings, but for some reason it didn’t honor us with such.

Now it’s time to turn back the clock and head off on the Peabody Brook Trail, which was our late morning hiking spot, the first hike of the dat. We were grateful for signs like this when the trail crossed a logging road.

We chose this trail because we’d read about it in New England Waterfalls, by Greg Parsons and Kate B. Watson. I know Kate from church and love that these two visited waterfalls throughout New England to include in their comprehensive guide. We’ve visited some, but have so many more to do.

At the beginning, the Peabody Brook flows through a ravine and due to a rainy weekend, it cascaded over, around, and under the boulders, and was an ever-present companion for much of the trail.

Other companions included several Anglewing Butterfies, that I couldn’t identify until I saw their underwings, as the markings indicate either a Comma or a Question Mark.

And there were Hobblebush leaves, with their corrugated presentation, beginning to unfurl.

Plus a few Painted Trillium plants showing off their leaves of three, though no flowers yet, and causing My Guy to comment, “You’ll probably take a trillion Trillium photos again this year.” Did I say he knows me well?

Upward we climbed into the great blue beyond, for so it seemed on this gorgeous day.

And then we reached a junction, and I, for one, was excited about what might be ahead.

Would we meet Devlin, the giant in my fairy tale, The Giant’s Shower? After all, he lives only a giant step away at Arethusa Falls.

I also thought we might see a few fairies, including Devlin’s favorite, Falda, for such was the neighborhood, with lots of mossy areas among the Hemlocks.

And then My Guy got excited when he spotted something? A giant? Maybe, but in the form of Giant Falls, and if you allow your eye to move a wee bit to the right of his pointer finger, you’ll see the white water through the trees.

Where we’d left the brook for a bit as we climbed up, the spur trail led us back down and suddenly there was fall after fall after fall beside us.

We considered eating lunch beside a large pool. But then reconsidered, but not before I noted some features of the brook that I’ve been sharing with a homeschool family this year. A POOL.

And EDDIES. And FLOWS.

And FOAM. And that very foam was being picked up by the breeze and “snowing.” Oh how my ten-year-old friend would love that.

Do you see the little white dots above the water and rocks?

We decided to hike farther up the steep trail to reach lunch rock so we could enjoy the power of the falls fanning over the boulders.

Take a moment to listen to this incredible force of nature.

After taking in the scene around us, it was time for lunch. And that’s when the magic began to happen.

A fairy flew in. I kid you not.

That’s just a butterfly, you might think. “Just”? No, no, no. I’m sure it was a fairy disguised as a butterfly, because the fairies don’t want us to know that they are present.

And . . . it landed on My Guy’s right leg.

As we both watched quietly, it walked down his pants to his hiking shoe.

And then it began to puddle. PUDDLE. ON. HIS. SHOE. LACE.

Puddling is a butterfly act intended to seek minerals and other nutrients from things such as scat, carrion, puddles, etc., but a shoe lace? And on My Guy’s shoe lace? What, indeed, could the lure be?

We’ll never know. But what we do know is that the Anglewing Butterfly was an Eastern Comma, based on the white comma shape on its underwing.

Spectacular.

The butterfly spent at least five minutes with My Guy: who seemed to appreciate that he had suddenly turned into a Whisperer. I don’t know that he’s ever held that status before.

When we finally departed, we had to hike back out along the same trail upon which we’d journeyed in, and . . . cross a bridge that bowed in the middle. Certainly the sign that a giant frequented it.

My Guy: The Giant Falls Butterfly Whisperer.

Worth a wonder.

P.S. No, there will not be a sequel to The Giant’s Shower. Self-publishing is expensive and I still have a bunch of books left from the second printing because I’m terrible at promoting it. It’s easy to do here on the blog, but not in real life.

Perfect Present

~ lmachayes

The Giant’s Shower: a book by me

I did a thing. Years ago I wrote a children’s story. Well, a bunch of them actually. And I tried to sell this particular one to publishing houses. No takers. Then, a couple of years ago I purchased a Fairy Coloring Book created by the one and only Solana, teenage daughter of the Fly Away Farm Wards in Lovell and Stow, Maine, and approached her about illustrating my fairy tale. She took on the task and did an amazing job. Then I asked copyeditor Pam Marshall to wave her magic wand over it. And I asked local graphic designer Dianne Lewis to use some fairy dust and turn it into an actual book. I always said I’d never self-publish a book. And tada: I did just that. And now it’s even better because it’s published by http://www.indieauthorbooks.com.

Aisling, a fairy who lives on Sabattus Mountain in the western Maine village of Lovell, has a vision during the Midsummer Eve celebration. 

Twinkles, flitters, a bit of fairy dust and some tsk-tsking are necessary to make Aisling’s vision a reality. 

If you read the story aloud, I highly encourage you to get all in your audience to participate in saying “Tsk, tsk,” each time Biddie does the same.

You and your children will delight in the story accompanied and the colorful and whimsical illustrations created by artist Solana Ward.  In fact, you don’t even need children to enjoy this story.

Marita Wiser, author of Hikes and Walks in and around Maine’s Lakes Region had this to say about the book, “The fairies in The Giant’s Shower will captivate children with their merry life in the forest. It’s not all magical though, as they moved from New Hampshire to Sabattus Mountain in Maine to avoid a certain devil. At least they thought the giant was a devil, but the situation wasn’t what it seemed at first. Both the writing and the detailed illustrations capture many features of the woods of northern New England, and the fun of fairy life and houses.” 

A naturalist and writer, many of you know that I hike frequently in Maine and New Hampshire, and those adventures inspired this story. I feel the fairies’ magic whenever I’m among moss-covered ground and tree stumps.

Included in the book are directions to the two featured settings, Sabattus Mountain and Arethusa Falls, featured in the photo above. Both are easily accessible for young hikers who might experience some magical moments while exploring. 

Also included is a list of character names and their explanations, as well as instructions to create fairy houses and fairy dust. 

The Giant’s Shower is available for $16.99 at Bridgton Books, Hayes Ace Hardware, Fly Away Farm, or by contacting me: thegiantsshower2023@gmail.com. Cash, check, or Venmo all work.

I do charge an extra $5.00 for shipping and handling if you ask me to send it to you.

Please consider purchasing a copy, or ten, as the book does make the perfect present.

Solstice 2024

~ lmachayes ~ 6 Comments

There’s a local trail I’ve been traipsing along solo or with company these past few weeks and when I dragged My Guy there early this morning, and said I was bringing my camera, his response, “Why, there’s nothing to see there.” Seriously. Doesn’t he know me better than that after all these years?

It’s a place where Bullfrogs sit upon lilypads in true frog style and wait patiently for a meal to fly by. Given all the Gnats and Deer Flies that buzzed our faces and ears as we walked, I assumed there was plenty of food and actually offered some, but he wouldn’t partake. The frog, that is.

Another who should also have been enticed by the offerings, seemed to care more about defending his territory than dining, this being a Four-spotted Skimmer Dragonfly. The name Four-spotted refers to the small dark spots on the upper edge of each wing, there being two per wing, and thus four per side or four per front wing and four per backwing.

Equally nonchalant about all the available food, but curious about me, was the female Calico Pennant, another skimmer who loves to perch at the tip of plants and twigs and returns to the same site over and over again. Though I didn’t have a good view of her abdomen except for a hint of color on segment 7, the yellow-colored stigma toward the tips of her wings, and her yellowish face gave proof to her gender. Males have red stigmas and red faces.

The immature male Common Whitetail cruised and paused, cruised and paused. This is such a handsome skimmer (not that the others aren’t). And while its abdomen resembles the female, it’s the wing pattern that identifies its gender. I love the complexity of dragonflies, even if I do have to relearn the clues each season.

Apparently, there were other things to do besides defend territory, and certainly rather than eat the biting insects–for canoodling was in order each time I visited. In this love wheel, the male Belted Whiteface dons the red thorax and he has clasped his mate behind her head with his claspers, as is the dragonfly custom. As Kurt Mead describes it in Dragonflies of the North Woods, “Prior to selection of a willing female, the male will transfer sperm from his testes located on the underside of the abdominal segment 9 to his hamulus located on the underside of segments 2 and 3. This is accomplished by simply arching the abdomen until the undersides of the appropriate segments make contact.” Once clasped, she arches her abdomen toward his hamulus to receive his sperm and thus fertilize her eggs.

Also flitting about, for that’s how these damselflies seem to move through the air, were some Ebony Jewelwings. The white dot or stimga at the tip of the wing signals this is a female, where the male has all dark wings. I love the iridescent colors of this species. And note how she has her abdomen reaching upwark in an obelisk position? That’s the Odonata way of avoiding overheating–thus reducing the surface area that is exposed to the sun’s rays. Oh, to be able to stick your butt toward the sun and cool off. On a day like today, and yesterday, and the day before, with our first heat wave in New England in two years, this would have been a most welcome adaptation.

Also along this trail, an extremely smart Eastern Phoebe who used a slight crevasse in a boulder upon which to build her nest of mud and moss and lichens. On the first trip, a friend and I spotted five eggs in the nest About a week and half later, these little chicks snuggled together like a pile of fluff with an occasional mustard-colored beak visible.

A week or so later and they continued to grow. What surprised me is how quiet they were, but that’s probably another technique that doesn’t give away the location of the nest.

That said, a Phoebe built a nest on the backside of our barn. It’s too high for us to notice if any eggs or chicks were located within, but we listen to the adults call back and forth all day long ,which is how we found the nest–they told us where to look and flew off anytime we passed that way.

The chicks above fledged within the last week and that nest is empty with no sound from an adult. It makes me wonder if the barn nest might see a second brood (if there actually was a first) for they continue to awaken us at about 4:20am each day. Stay tuned.

Another sight worth noting–the footprint left behind by a moose–traveling in the opposite direction of my foot. This was discovered by an observant participant on a recent walk for Loon Echo Land Trust.

And an even better observation: the track of a Black Bear. My foot is located beside a front foot as you can see, with the larger hind feet registering before and after. The big toe is on the outside of the foot, opposite of ours. The better for climbing stability.

It still seems early for butterfly flight to me, but this Pearl Crescent showed us this morning that life hasn’t been easy given its tattered wings.

I think one of my favorite sightings along this path, other than the moose and bear prints, oh, and the dragonflies, of course, was something I couldn’t share with My Guy. The timing just happened to be right on this particular visit, when Eastern Tiger Swallowtail butterflies, so differentiated from the Canadian Tiger Swallowtail by the fact that the yellow band near the edge of the underwing was broken by black marks.

They were puddling, an act of probing for salt and minerals. Most puddlers are males, who ingest the nutrients that are then stored in their sperm. During mating, the male passes these goodies along to the female as a nuptial gift in his spermatophore. 

So we assumed it was scat upon which they puddled.

Until we realized it wasn’t. They’re choice of nutrient-offerings–a smooshed frog. The trail is not just for walkers. ATVs and even trucks use it.

Yes, the poor frog. BUT, the butterflies and flies made sure that it did not go to waste.

And another frog smiled. I’m smiling too, for it is officially summer. Happy Summer Solstice 2024.

And speaking of the solstice–be on the lookout tonight for the characters of my fairy tale doing some dancing in the woods, as they did in The Giant’s Shower.