Windfall Caterpillar

 

I find some of my best caterpillars on boardwalks under trees on windy days. They get blown from the tree and fall onto the contrasting surface of the boardwalk where they stand out. This one is a catalpa sphinx moth caterpillar, Ceratomia catalpae. I found in one windy day last week on a boardwalk under -- you guessed it -- a catalpa tree. Click to enlarge.

The leaves have not yet fallen from the catalpa trees in my neighborhood. That's lucky for this caterpillar because catalpa leaves are all it eats. It is even sometimes called a catalpa worm. The tree and its caterpillar are native to the eastern United States. When I was a child, we called catalpa trees Johnny Smoker trees for their long, cigar-shaped seed pods.  

The caterpillar is facing left. Notice the long black horn rising from its rear end. 

The horn is just for looks; it does not sting. It is thought to be a visual defense that makes the caterpillar look dangerous to would-be predators. It works for me. The next stage for this caterpillar is to make its way to the ground. It will burrow down and form a pupa, within which it will remain dormant through the winter. Maybe it wasn't blown out of the tree, after all, just wending its way along the boardwalk, looking for some nice dirt to pupate in?

Urban Wildlife

 

Urban wildlife sighting in Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia. Click to enlarge.

Squirrel evolution has reached the Age of Picnic Tables.

Around the corner. The cat wants to come in. 

Out all night. Still looking fabulous. 

Nearby, a horse-head hitching post for your horse. 

While meanwhile in South Jersey...

Indian Pipes

 

I took a short walk along a favorite dirt road in the New Jersey Pine Barrens this week. It turned out to be a remarkable experience. I saw more clusters of Indian pipes that day than I have seen during the rest of my life combined. There were scads of them! It was an Indian pipe extravaganza! And their odd little bell-shaped flowers were blooming. And the flowers were full of seed pods. Click to enlarge. Note the lovely pink accents. 

Indian pipes are curious flowering plants. They don't make their own food through photosynthesis. They don't even have chlorophyll, so they are not green. 

They look a bit like mushrooms, right? They are also called ghost plants. 

We find them near trees, where they intrude on existing associations between the trees and underground fungi. The fungi are “mycorrhizal,” that is, they grow around roots. The relationship between the trees and the fungi is mutually beneficial. Mycorrhizal fungi enhance the root zone of the trees and provide access to more water and nutrients. In return, they obtain sugars produced by the trees through photosynthesis. Good for both. 

Along comes the Indian pipes. Their roots parasitically take water, sugars, and nutrients from the fungi and give nothing in return. Bold strategy, Indian pipes! 

The large round structures in the flowers are seed capsules. Inside them are dust-small seeds that will be released on the air when the time is right.  

A Squirrel in Repose

 

Some Sundays, I have no plan for what to write a blog about. I pick up my camera and go outside, and I always find something interesting. Today was such a day. But I was not even all the way out when I spotted this squirrel on my back porch. I took its picture through the back door. The squirrel is stretched out, flattened, and sitting absolutely still. That's attention-getting, if only in contrast to the normal hurried movements of its kind. Is it resting? Sunbathing? 

 

 

It barely moved for the long minutes I watched. I wondered what might be going through its mind. In that, I am in good company. 

    Henry David Thoreau wrote in his journal: “I saw a squirrel this morning, sitting motionless on a limb, as if meditating.” 

    John Muir’s nature writings capture a similar moment: “Even the squirrel, with his busy ways, pauses to listen to the wind in the pines.” 

    The poet James Wright guessed at a squirrel's inner life:“Curled in the crook of a branch, He dreams of acorns, wind, and chance.”

     As did Gene Stratton-Porter, writing in Moths of the Limberlost: “The squirrel, nestled on a rail, is not asleep but dreaming—of leaves, of wind, of time.” 

 

As Gary Snyder once said: “Observing a squirrel can take your mind away from worries and into the wonder of nature.” It's absolutely true. Looking closer, I see that the squirrel is holding an acorn in its mouth. Maybe it is just taking a rest on its way home for lunch? 

 

Pine Barrens Gentians

 

Every year in mid-September, I go to my special place in the New Jersey Pine Barrens to look for an autumn blooming flower -- the pine barrens gentian. I was there this week. Behold! 

 

Click to enlarge.

The buds in various stages are also quite beautiful. 

And searching for them involves a pleasant journey...

down sandy paths, 

 

 

 

past peat-dark ponds.

The flowers were thought to have disappeared locally, but were rediscovered. Rest assured they are still there and as pretty as ever. 

The Last Week of Summer

We are heading into the last full week of summer. Soon there will be beautiful leaves. It is that time, described by Sarah Helen Whitman, "when summer gathers up her robes of glory, and, like a dream, glides away."

An autumn preview with mockingbird and persimmons. Click to enlarge. 

Mountain Mint

This week I planted this little clustered mountain mint bush in the sunniest spot in my yard. I often hover over mountain mint plants in parks because insects love them. While they collect pollen and nectar, I have a chance to photograph them up close.  

Like this male Ammophila, a thread-waisted wasp, who seems to give new meaning to the name. Note the little patch of orange on his abdomen.

Or the lovely great golden digger wasp, so called for the golden hairs on its head and body. Click to enlarge. 

Here's hoping that my little plant will look like this in the future and attract many interesting wasps and other insects. 

Happy Labor Day

 

Laughing gulls, Larus atricilla, started flying south in August. They will be gone from the northeast soon. See you next summer! Click to enlarge.

August

A quiet afternoon with reflections in the New Jersey pine barrens. 

                                              

"The quiet August noon has come, 

A slumberous silence fills the sky, 

The fields are still, the woods are dumb, 

In glassy sleep the waters lie."  

                                  from A Summer Ramble by William Cullen Bryant

 

Last call for summer butterflies like this cabbage white. August is winding down. Autumn leaves are coming soon. Watch this spot. Click to enlarge.

Shadows

Something new for my shadow collection. It's a tiger bee fly. It gets the three-word name because it is a fly that looks like a bee, with patterns on its wings that resemble tiger stripes. No surprise that it is casting its shadow on dry untreated unpainted wood of the kind that carpenter bees make nests in. The tiger bee fly preys on carpenter bees, leaving eggs at the entrance to carpenter bee nests -- the fly larvae enter the bee nest and attach to and consume pupae.

Here's another noteworthy shadow photo of perched turkey vultures. 

 

And a fence lizard with a shadow that seems like a second head.

Fly details. 

And the shadow of a great blue heron that seems to be hunting while the bird rests. Click on the photos to enlarge.

August

 

Spicebush swallowtail butterfly. 

 

    “August is the slow, gentle month that stretches out the longest across the span of a year. It yawns and lingers on with the light in its palms.” Victoria Erikson    

 

Monarch butterfly. Click to enlarge.

Black-crowned Night Herons

 

The weather finally cooled off in South Jersey. I celebrated with a trip to Edwin B. Forsythe National Wildlife Refuge, despite clouds and drizzle. The overcast was so thick that it obscured the buildings of Atlantic City across the bay. I think the big gray shadow is the Ocean Casino.

Swamp rose mallow flowers were blooming everywhere. I call them marsh mallows. :-) 

It was moody and lovely. And while I was looking along the shore through my camera lens... 

A black-crowned night heron literally poked its head into the frame.

And stayed for this pose. Night herons, as the name implies, are mainly active at night and at dusk. But they come out on dull days like yesterday. What a nice bonus to go with the cool breezes. Click to enlarge.

And it happened again later. Another one flew in and landed near where I was standing. 

Love the big yellow feet.