Not sure what to call this bumbler or its bloom, but I adore them both.
Wednesday Wild: Bumble Bee
Wednesday Wild: Yellow-bellied sapsucker
My daughter and I made our first observations for MassAudubon’s Big Barn Study yesterday. We had seen barn swallows around the yard and suspected they were living in our big, old barn. What we didn’t realize was that they were entering the barn through the garage. (These doors are closed much of the day. Should we leave the garage doors open? Will they abandon these nests if we don’t? Will we be allowed in the garage once eggs are laid?) Or that they were building nests in not-so-safe places. (Like on top of a live electrical outlet.) As usual, closer observation has piqued our interest, and we’ve got a lot to look into.
We also learned that barn swallows are very hard to capture on film. We never saw one rest or perch, and trying to follow one in flight was a dizzy-making exercise. Luckily, we saw a lot of other birds while we were observing the swallows … including this yellow-bellied sapsucker. (We’d seen the strange holes on this tree–a European mountain ash–but weren’t sure who was responsible. Now we know.)
Favorite fact for this bird, mined from iBird Explorer North: A group of sapsuckers are collectively known as a slurp. Who knew?
Happy Wednesday!
Wednesday Wild: Tiger Moth
I’m cheating a bit, because I didn’t actually spend a moment in the wild today. Or yesterday. And things aren’t looking too good for tomorrow either. Some weeks are like that. The good news is that all this inside-at-my-desk time translates into a steadily lengthening rough draft of my new book. (Hooray!) And since I’m sort of a wildlife-in-my-backyard junkie, I always have a backup photograph to share…
I found this moth dazed under the porch lights one night last week and was struck by its size and bright markings. It was fairly easy to identify it (through my favorite online insect field guide, bugguide.net) as a tiger moth. I followed up with my trusty handheld field guide (Caterpillars of Eastern North America, by David L. Wagner) and was surprised with this tidbit: “Adults, when gently squeezed, may bubble generous amounts of their yellow “blood” out of the front corners of the thorax …”
Eww. I did not try it.
More Wednesday Wild: Bob’s Spicebush Swallowtail
This photo arrived by email over the weekend, along with a note from the fifth grader who snapped it. “Today I was working in the yard, and I saw a butterfly,” he said, “so I went to go check it out .. I am pretty sure it is a Spicebush Swallowtail …”
He thought I’d like to see it, and he was right. (Thank you, Bob!) In one of those fun happenings that fuels my school visiting, a teacher at Bob’s school independently sent me photos of a froglet she found in her backyard.
Look closely at the world around you, friends. There is so much to see.
(Read that last sentence every morning and you won’t even need me to come to your school. Although if you’d like me to come to your school, you should check out the School Visits page of my website. I added my first 2012-2013 school year events to the calendar this morning!)
Wednesday Wild: Northern Watersnake
Question: Why would a juvenile water snake be hanging out on my nearly-the-highest-point-in-town-and-not-much-water-nearby driveway on Memorial Day weekend?
Answer: I dunno.
But I’m glad he stopped by.
Wednesday Wild: Catbird
One of my sons has been learning to bird by ear, and he’s inspired me to try it myself. It’s hard! In fact, I’ve found that the few bird sounds I did recognize by ear have been pushed right out of my brain by the flurry of new calls and songs that I’ve been trying to cram in there. Thankfully, our resident catbird (above) has made it his personal mission, it seems, that I not forget his mew call.
If you press that link, scroll down, hit the play arrow on the audio file labeled “mew call”, and repeat for an hour or two, you’ve got the soundtrack to my Wednesday.
Catchy, no?
Twice-stabbed on an Apple Tree
Yesterday, in central Massachusetts, the sun came out. In celebration, my daughter and I spent a couple of hours outside after school. She did her homework on the picnic table, I scoped out one of our two apple trees. I’ve been reading a truly inspiring book on tree-watching–SEEING TREES, by Nancy Ross Hugo and Robert Llewellyn–and have decided to take up the sport. Somewhere between noting the gorgeous pattern of the bark (it was spongy and wet, mottled dark and light all over and then sprinkled with moss and lichens) and checking out the leaves, I found some critters. Not surprisingly, I was distracted. Ants. Slugs. And a ladybug! Not just any ladybug, mind you, but one I’ve not yet seen in the wild.
Can you see it up there in the photo?
That, my friends, is a Twice-stabbed Ladybug (Chilocorus stigma). Or maybe its a Once-squashed Ladybug (Chilocorus hexacyclus)*? I will never know for sure, because when I tried to catch it for a closer look at its chromosomes**, it dropped down into the grass. Lost forever. But I did manage this picture, which I’ll submit to Lost Ladybug Project soon.
So, eleven different species on my ladybug life list now. Hooray for the sun, and for tree-watching, and for ladybugs!
* I am not making these names up, I swear. They are from this excellent ladybug field guide.
**Okay, now I’m making things up. The only way to distinguish the two species is to examine the chromosomes, but I had no intention of doing so. I’m not that geeky. Plus, I don’t have the proper microscopes yet.
A Quiet Wednesday
This is my first spring living in a house that has stood for 205 springs. And while the majority of the days I have lived here so far have been spent rushing from one settling-in activity to another, today I’m working quietly in my office, breaking every now and then to wonder about the people who may have worked quietly in this space before me. Did they love rainy days, squirreled up here above the yard, working in the warm glow of a lamp? Did they gaze out over the back yard and dream of summer vegetables? Spy on a robin’s nest tucked under that perfect old front eave?
I wonder how many baby robins have hatched outside this old window …
Wednesday Wild: Snow
On Saturday, we central New Englanders saw the first true snowfall of the winter. Where I live, we got about five inches, just enough to strap on snowshoes and head out into the wild. My family and I explored the woods near our new house, tracked a neighbor dog, brushed flakes from hearty mushrooms, and stumbled into an area that had, moments before our arrival, been a resting place for four deer. I took photos of the woods and the tracks and the mushrooms and the deer beds, of course, but none of them pleased me as much as the image above. Is there anything as exciting as the rush into untrodden, new-fallen, long-awaited snow?
Happy Wednesday, friends!
Wednesday Wild: Painted Turtle
Yes, I realize it’s Thursday. But putting up a Wednesday Wild post on a Thursday seems about right for me these days. I’m behind in everything, you know? But now that the holidays are past and my family and I are settled into our new place, I’m expecting my days to find their old rhythm. One week soon I will post something wild on a Wednesday. (Or maybe even a Tuesday!) In any event, we’re beginning to explore our new environment, and I’m looking forward to sharing what we find. Which brings me to this painted turtle.
On my birthday, my sons made an unusual request. Meet us at the pond, they said. Bring cookies. Who am I to question such intrigue? I packed up some Oreos and went to the pond. They showed up with two school friends, and all four boys greeted me with Happy Birthday wishes. (Which I thought was adorable. These guys are thirteen, for crying out loud.)
Then they ate the cookies. (As I said: thirteen.)
Then, Come on. We’ve got a surprise for you.
I followed them along the trail beside the pond. Two of them slipped out onto the ice.
(A safety interlude: This pond is so shallow that to break through the ice would drop one into water only ankle-deep. Otherwise I would have not allowed–or joined in–such shenanigans. NEVER WALK ON POND ICE UNLESS YOU ARE SURE IT IS SAFE!)
Okay. On top of the pond, boys sneaker-skated about, peered through the ice, muttered. Eventually they dropped to their knees.
There!
A painted turtle. Under the ice. Just hanging out.
The boys waved me over. I stepped onto the ice. Loud cracks shot wildly about. The boys asked me to step back while they evacuated. They assured me the issue was their weight, not mine. (Love these guys.) And then, with the strain on the ice lessened, I slid out there alone. And I can tell you for certain that a turtle in winter is a mighty fine gift.