Yearning for Butterflies

Butterfly June 18

It’s been a slow year for butterflies in the yard. (And in other yards, as noted in the comments section on this recent post.) There were no butterflies at all in May, and in June the only visitors were a few skittish Gray Hairstreaks. They took brief sips from the hydrangea, then flew away in search of better nectar.

As July grew hotter and hotter, I caught glimpses of larger butterflies fluttering high overhead, but they never stopped in the yard. Our new butterfly bush bloomed in vain, and the praying mantis lurking among its branches eventually moved into the nearby irises.

Praying Mantis July 28

Finally, late in July, I spotted a Painted Lady.

Butterfly July 25

Butterfly July 25

A skipper arrived the same day, the first of an unexpected abundance of skippers. In past years these small butterflies were rare in the yard, but they seem to find the butterfly bush irresistible. Now I see them almost daily.

Butterfly Two July 25

I haven’t been able to identify any of the skippers in my photos. The closest I can get is to say they all fall into the sub-group of “closed wing skippers.”  As always, please comment if you can confirm or correct my identifications!

Butterfly Aug 10

Butterfly Aug 10

Butterfly Aug 11

The only other butterfly I’ve seen in the yard was a faded, torn Common Buckeye. I wondered if its wing damage indicated long, perilous journeys or a single stormy event…

Butterfly July 28

While each new visitor is a hopeful sign, I’m puzzled by the conspicuous absence of Commas and Question MarksRed Admirals, Viceroys, sulfurs, and swallowtails. Others are puzzled, too. A short internet search found several articles detailing decreased sightings of butterflies in eastern North Carolina and Virginia:

Most sources blame the long, cold winter and associated rain, and some cite additional factors such as habitat loss and pesticide use. Whatever the cause, I hope it is temporary. In the world’s Field Guide to Small Joys, butterflies fill a uniquely delightful chapter.

Butterfly July 25

Spined Micrathena Spider (Arachnophobia Alert!)

Photography is one of my most useful allies against arachnophobia. In the past, this small spider (less than a half-inch in size) would have sent me scrambling indoors in a state of shivering panic. Now I run for my camera.

Spider Aug 13

The Spined Micrathena is a new spider for the yard, even though a site dedicated to Northern Virginia Ecology says, “The Spined Micrathena is one of our most common spiders. If you’ve ever walked through a spider web in the woods, it was very likely a micrathena’s web.”

I didn’t walk through her web, but I very nearly fell through it a few times as I leaned closer and closer with my lens. By the time I found the best angles and camera settings, fascination with the spider’s abdominal spikes had overcome my too-many-legs anxiety.

Spider Aug 13

And after doing a little research, I am forced to admit squeamish gratitude. These spiders feed on flies and mosquitoes, which recently multiplied into bloodthirsty swarms in the yard. I hope our new spider is very, very hungry.

Spider Aug 13

One final note: I can’t claim to be cured of arachnophobia. My first reaction on finding a spider is still horror, and brushing against a web still results in panic. But I’m learning to look at spiders, especially in photos, with more curiosity and less fear.

Hummingbird Happenings

Hummingbird July 29

In May, the yard’s hummingbird hopes suffered a setback when a family of house finches plucked the honeysuckle’s early blooms.

Hummingbird July 27

But the honeysuckle recovered quickly, and by the end of June there were enough blooms to attract renewed attention.

Hummingbird July 23

The salvia also bloomed steadily through June and July, adding a second source of nectar.

Hummingbird July 27

Hummingbird July 27

Now I see hummingbirds daily. They zip through the yard at reasonably predictable intervals, one or two an hour, and I occasionally find them resting high in the wax myrtle.

Hummingbird July 27

If I stretch the camera’s zoom to its limit, I am able to catch several frames before they become suspicious of my fixed attention and clicking shutter.

Hummingbird July 29

Hummingbird July 29

Hummingbird July 29

When two individuals cross paths, fierce and noisy bouts of aerial combat break out, with both birds squeaking rapidly as they dive and swerve. They are too fast for my camera during these skirmishes.

Hummingbird July 27

For that matter, they are too usually fast while feeding. These photos represent several hours of stalking. (I suspect most of my photos feature a single individual who has established a repetitive feeding pattern.)

Hummingbird July 23

Whether one bird or many, I hope the visits continue. I’m looking forward to a few more months of summer — a few more months of hot, humid afternoons in which to hone my hummingbird reflexes.

Hummingbird July 23

 

Saddleback Caterpillar

Saddleback Caterpillar July 31

The saddleback caterpillar is one of North America’s stinging caterpillars. Each hollow spine is equipped with venom, and bright patterns on its back advertise the danger. Everything about it signals “Don’t touch!”

I found my first saddleback caterpillar in the yard yesterday, and I hope there aren’t many more. I’m not interested in finding out exactly how painful their stings can be.

Saddleback Caterpillar July 31

The University of Florida’s online reference says this: “The saddleback caterpillar is encountered most frequently as a medically significant pest, and has minor effects in landscaping and agriculture.” So, while my caterpillar was doing a very neat job of eating one of the iris leaves, its primary impact in the yard is being a “medically significant pest.” (Something about that phrase makes me want to write a poem.)

Saddleback Caterpillar July 31

The only North American caterpillar with a more venomous sting than the saddleback is the puss caterpillar, which I encountered in the yard a few years ago. Here’s a video I made at the time:

 

When I found the puss caterpillar in 2010, our newspaper’s wildlife columnist published one of my photos. She later published an article spotlighting readers’ stories of having been stung by both kinds of venomous caterpillars: Those cute little caterpillars can pack a big, painful wallop.

Yet another very good reason to wear gloves while working in the flower beds…

Saddleback Caterpillar July 31

 

Feeding the Rabbits

I never feed the rabbits on purpose. They are wild rabbits, not domestic.

Rabbit July 20

It’s a weak argument, at best, because I often put out bird seed. Birds are wild, as are the squirrels who steal the bird seed. Why feed them, but avoid feeding rabbits? Also, as a reader noted in commenting on a previous post, rabbits sometimes graze on flowers. Recent developments have made me consider this fact in new light. How can I claim to “never feed the rabbits” if I am planting flowers the rabbits will eat?

Marigold July 26

In past years the rabbits’ appetite for flowers has been low-impact, but this year’s toll is on the rise. By mid-July the victims included marigolds, rose of Sharon, succulents, a pair of ornamental sweet potato vines (which are in the process of recovering in a hanging basket), and coneflowers.

Succulents July 26

Potato Vine July 23

All of these losses were logged under “remember not to plant these again” and forgiven, until coneflowers entered the picture. Quite literally entered the picture, stoking my obsessive fascination with bees and bee photos.

Bee June 27

I bought the summer’s first coneflower on a whim, trying to ignore foggy memories of a previous coneflower failure. For over a week I enjoyed an increasing spectacle of bee activity.

Bee June 27

Then I woke one morning to a pitiful collection ruined coneflower parts. That afternoon, while a series of rabbits munched on the flower’s remains, I concocted a coneflowers-in-containers scheme. A short trip to the garden store later, I had a new bee-magnet planted out of the reach of rabbits. Or so I thought. Coneflowers, it seems, are irresistible rabbit treats. Containers that provided dependable rabbit-proofing in the past are no match for a motivated rabbit.

Deep in the grip of bee-mania, I returned to the garden store in search of a taller, better container. During that trip I bought two more coneflowers. I also bought tickseed and a hybrid black-eyed Susan, both labelled “deer resistant.”

Tickseed July 23

As I’m sure any true gardener would already know, “deer resistant” is not the same as “rabbit resistant.”

Rudbeckia July 23

As for my taller, better coneflower container…

Rabbit July 21

The big rabbits conquered it almost immediately, and the smaller rabbits soon followed.

Rabbit July 21

After eating its fill, this one spent some time mocking me…

Rabbit July 21

I knew the rabbits could jump that high. I just didn’t think they would. Especially as there was very little cover available in or around the coneflower container, and hawks often hunt in our neighborhood. Under normal circumstances, the rabbits avoid being so exposed.

Rabbit June 26

Rabbit June 26

The following photo shows the same rabbit as earlier. I’m pretty sure it was still mocking me…

Rabbit July 20

I should have given up after the second failure. More reasonably, after the first. Because, in the end, all of my efforts added up to an embarrassing series of rabbit feasts. And, as much as I enjoy watching and photographing the rabbits, I didn’t mean to feed them.

I didn’t mean to feed them because I enjoy watching and photographing them.

Rabbit June 26

Rabbit June 26

Rabbit June 26

(The above photos were taken in late June. The babies are still growing, and a group of slightly older rabbits has joined them in the yard.)

Rabbit July 20
Rabbit July 20

The yard has never supported more than one or two rabbits over subsequent seasons, and five (or more) seems an invitation for overpopulation troubles. Ticks and tick-borne diseases are an obvious concern, as ticks are visible in many of my photos.

Rabbits July 5

Also, winter will certainly bring a shortage of food for the rabbits, along with other stressors. At this age, they should be learning how to find food. I fear that having it so easily delivered makes them less fit. It also encourages them to stay in a territory that cannot support such a dense population.

In trying to learn from my coneflower debacle, I’ve frozen my yard budget for the rest of the summer. No more new flowers. No more new containers. (I made one last purchase, before freezing the budget, which will appear in a future post.) The rabbits may take what they need from what the yard produces, and I will continue enjoying their antics, but they will remain wild. As wild as possible in their suburban habitat.