Interesting Names and Cliches That Should Have Been

I find some of the names given to things found in nature to be very dull. House fly. Earwig.

Some, however, are marvelously interesting. Take this dragonfly that I captured for my specimen box. How cool a name is "Halloween Pennant". Somebody put some thought into that name. The name was no doubt derived from its coloration, very orange and brown. It could just as easily been named a Fifteen-spotted Pennant . . but why settle for boring when something like "Halloween" is available? It's kind of like signing up for a new YouTube account . . you try the most interesting usernames first just to see what's available. Kudos to the scientist who went bold with this guy's name.


Although this Cicada Killer wasp earned its name for its behavior rather than its appearance, it's a cool name nevertheless. There have been a half dozen or so of them swarming around the stairs leading down to our neighborhood pool, and they send Avery into a tizzy every time she sees one. I've always insisted they wouldn't hurt her, although I didn't know that for certain. This week I decided to figure out what they were once and for all, and it turns out I was mostly right. Cicada killers are said to "very rarely" sting humans, with their primary interest of course being the killing of cicadas to feed to their larvae. How uniquely specialized.


And I know this is random, so please forgive me, but I wondered yesterday why herons haven't ever been ( to my knowledge) the basis for any sayings or idioms relating to their behavior. I watched a Green Heron forage for almost half an hour yesterday, and the patience of these birds amazes me. This particular bird was slowly and deliberately hopping from branch to branch in a willow tree that was growing in a small marshy area. With every hop he'd get closer and closer to the single branch tip where a dragonfly was perching repeatedly. Then, after 10 minutes or so, he got close enough and made his lunge, snagging the dragonfly.

What came next really surprised me. The heron did not eat the dragonfly. Presumably having either paralyzed or killed the bug, the heron flew down to a spot near the edge of the water and stood among the reeds. He took 2 or 3 steps over the next 10 minutes, still holding on to the dragonfly. Then all of a sudden he dropped the dragonfly on to the water and watched as it lay there still. A moment later he struck at the water next to the bait and emerged with a small green frog in his bill. Talk about resourcefulness! And patience to boot. So why is it then that nobody's ever been called "As patient as a heron"?

The Dog Days

As hot and humid as it's been lately, there haven't really been a lot of opportunities for nature walks. I did get down to the Moss Creek Nature trail yesterday early in the morning, and the diversity of species was as good as ever. I spotted a Great-crested Flycatcher, as well as an Acadian Flycatcher, both firsts for the trail. I got a nice up-close look at a Green Heron that was hanging out on one of the bridges, and Yellow and Prairie Warblers were around as well. There are oodles of baby birds around, most notably the Northern Mockingbirds. There are large stands of fruit-bearing plants that these rowdy mimids are thoroughly enamored with. I did not take the camera with me yesterday, but I've got some other good pictures to share from the last few weeks.

I imagine this picture will get me a scolding comment from my sister, but oh well. I was outside pulling weeds the other day and the neighbor's 12-year-old son was mowing his grass. I had my iPod on and was fully immersed in a podcast when I heard him address me from the other side of the fence. When I finally found the pause button and removed an earbud he was mid-sentence, and I had to ask him to repeat himself. He did, and his query made me smile. He asked me if I could tell him what kind of spider he'd found near the side of his house. I have to admit that the fact he'd ask me for some kind of identification (I've otherwise never said more than 5 words to the boy) was flattering in a way, but on the other hand I may have just been the only adult nearby and I was his only choice. Either way, I trotted over and checked out the spider. I did not know what it was, but you can understand why I told him that I was going to run and get my camera.


I held my phone up next to it to try to offer some perspective on its size, which I'd estimate at approximately 2 inches (or half the length of my Motorola Razr). I told the boy that I didn't know what it was (egad!), but that I'd find out for him. A few keystrokes later I'd come up with a name (and more than a few nicknames) . . it's a Black-and-yellow Argiope, otherwise known as a Garden Spider or a Writing Spider. The cool design in the web is no doubt what earned it the last nickname. It's completely harmless to humans, so if you see one in your yard please just admire it and leave it alone. "Spiders is good, they eats the cockroaches."

Then, after the thunderstorm that passed through right after this exercise in Arachnology, I peered out the kitchen window and saw this curious fellow dangling from the crepe myrtle. I know bumble bees are slow movers, but this guy seemed to be suspended in time. Turns out he was, although not in a cool sci-fi kind of way. How do you think a bee just dies in a position like this?



The butterfly bushes in my yard have not had great blooms this year, but the plants themselves are thriving. This particular one was transplanted to a corner of the kids' play area last year after it outgrew its spot near a living room window. Its prospects looked grim throughout the winter, as it did not take off as butterfly bushes typically do, but the spring and summer have been good to it, as it is now filling out nicely. The ultimate test is its attractiveness to the Lepidoptera, and this Tiger Swallowtail apparently is pleased. He was not deterred by my presence, as I was within 4 feet of him while taking this shot.



At the nature trail, these pretty red and white flowers were everywhere. If you know what they are, please feel free to tell me. Whatever they are, the hummingbirds love them.


Speaking of the hummers, I don't have any good new photos of my local hummers. It's just too darned hot in my back yard to stand still and try to capture battling ruby-throats at my single feeder. There are between 6 and 8 birds that battle for the nectar every day now, including 2 adult males and at least 2 juvenile males. As much as it seems like they never get a chance to drink for all of their confrontations, they're going through about 1 cup per day lately. This young lady was from our trip to Cayuga Lake last month.

Sleepy Rugrat

It's amazing the difference an hour and a slight change in routine makes.

Lily went to bed late last night, a little after 9pm. This morning she was up at 6, versus her customary-of-late 7. Couple that reduction in sleep with our decision to go swimming before lunch today and what you get is one sleepy rugrat.



See, what had happened was, we came home from the pool and had lunch, and then Lily spied a Blow Pop in Mandi's work bag and begged us for it. We relented, mostly because she's been such a good girl lately, and she quietly went in to the playroom to watch Franklin before her nap. 20 or so minutes later, as she heard the closing credits roll on the show, Mandi called from the living room and said "Lily, Franklin's over, it's nap time!"

No response.

As Mandi started to call out again I shushed her and suggested that Lily might just have fallen asleep on the couch. I snuck in to assess the situation and found her sound asleep, sitting upright on the couch, with a firm grip on the lollipop (which was stuck to the fine hairs on her leg). As I tried to gently remove the stick from her hand she woke up, eyes wide open, and pulled it back away from me. I grabbed it again and took it, telling her it was time for her nap. She immediately started bawling, and it was all I could do to calm her down before I put her to bed. Kiddo loves her some junk food!

Thankfully that brief nap on the couch did not ruin our chances at a full nap in the bed. One quick bedtime story and she was out like a light.

A Brief Return

Yesterday I saw a juvenile bluebird in a very intriguing spot. He was on my tray-feeder. There must be a shortage of bugs on the ground nearby, because these guys aren't supposed to be seed eaters. Somebody must have forgotten to tell him that.



He paused on the fence briefly, then piddled around on the ground looking for ants and spiders. I tried to get a little bit closer, but I spooked him before I could focus the camera. As what I can only assume was his way of helping me confirm his suspected odd behavior, he returned to the same location this afternoon. I can't say for sure if this is one of the four that just fledged my nestbox this weekend, but I'd like to think it is.

9034 Words

They say a picture is worth 1000 words. Each one. I would argue that's a low-ball estimate in this particular case. I hope these particular pictures provide a good start to your week!

Happy Birthdays and Baby Birdies

There were so many things to post about from Tuesday that I initially considered posting about them separately. Upon further review, I'm far too lazy for that, so they're all getting lumped together.

First and foremost, it was Mandi's 32nd birthday. In and of itself, 32 is not a significant birthday. You're well into your thirties, and the next true milestone birthday doesn't occur until the big four-oh. However, in this house, each of Mandi's birthdays is now significant because for the five and a half months between July 22nd and January 7th, she and I can officially be considered "the same age". The other six and a half months of the year, I'm older. Anyway, we went out to dinner, but we returned to Mandi's parents' house for cake. We planned to have leftover coconut cake, which I made at the lake and we carted home in a cooler, but her mom got a sheet cake from the grocery store instead. It was probably for the best, as Lily and Avery weren't big fans of the coconut cake.

Avery enthusiastically dug in to her first piece of cake. She hated it.



Lily mostly just ate the sprinkles off of the top. When she finished the sprinkles on her first piece, she insisted on another one. Grandpa gladly finished the sprinkle-less piece and served her up a fresh one. Of course she sang some silly songs while she ate. It just wouldn't be the same without the "Roger Dodger" song.


Mandi's going to hate this picture . . but I think it's cute. Actually, it's just better than the only other picture I took of her that day . . the one of her blowing out the candles on the cake.




The cake itself was nothing particularly special, but it was a fun birthday celebration.




Before we headed home, Lily grabbed Grandpa's glasses and put on a little song-and-dance for the crowd. What a ham.



Earlier in the day (sorry for the lack of chronological order), the girls and I came home from the gym and saw one of the baby bluebirds poking its head out of the nestbox. This behavior is typically reserved for the day the birds fledge the nest, so I set up a chair along the side of the house and patiently waited for "the money shot". Well, it never materialized. Between having to come inside and make lunch for the girls (darned kids) and the oppressive heat of the midday, I just wasn't able to catch one leaving the nest. This peek out was the best I could come up with. (click to enlarge)





My guess is that the birds delayed leaving due in part to my presence. The adult male scolded me from his perch on the fence across the street. When I'd approach to try for close-ups of an emerging juvenile, he would dive-bomb me.



Then he scolded me from the roof of my neighbor's house. Somehow I derive great joy from seeing a father act in such a protective manner.



Before I went inside, the female joined him at the nest. This time they weren't scolding (I'd retreated 15 feet or so toward the driveway), but rather cooing gently as if to coax the young'uns out of the nest. Again, they waited for my departure before fledging.



By the time we got back from the pool at around 5:00, all four young had left the nest and were nowhere to be seen. I hope, as they have in the past, that they'll come back to the yard to flaunt their life progress.

End Of A Vacation

I posted some of the better pictures from the first half of our vacation to Cayuga Lake in Upstate NY, I figured why not show off some of the rest.

Sleep was not an easy commodity to come by on this trip. Lily was difficult at bedtime, and that's putting it very very mildly. On the morning pictured Mandi and I heard Lily stirring at around 5:00 and were surprised that she didn't come in to wake us up. Instead we fell back to sleep and this was the sight we saw at a little after 6. Lily loves her Meema something fierce!



Not too long after breakfast they made their way down to the lake to go swimming. There were very few mornings that weren't overcast or rainy, so it was important to take advantage. Lily has learned to blow up her own floaties, saving Daddy an early morning headache.



All dressed and ready to go, the girls dragged Meema down the road and proceeded to swim for almost two full hours.



The walk back to the house was apparently the perfect time to remind Meema of all fun they had just had . . they don't pull from every direction, do they?


After lunch, they enjoyed some popsicles. There was no shortage of desserts on this trip, I assure you.



I spent most of the day just taking in the nature . . the lilies are a full month or so behind ours in North Carolina. The first blooms were just opening on these pink ones near the road (sorry I don't know the variety). There were daylilies everywhere you turned, the prettiest oranges and yellows overwhelmed every roadside view.



I've always been fascinated by the Gray Catbirds. Mandi thinks he's boring looking, but I think his little black cap is very dapper, and his slate gray color just adds to his already mysterious and secretive nature. This particular bird wasn't shy at all, consistently posing for me in the yard, on the wood pile, above the nest box I put up by the road, and on this reflector. Isn't the rental house across the street just lovely?



The girls took their baths super early that night, and then the strangest thing happened . .



. . they talked me in to pitching a tent for them to play in. In their pajamas. They played in the tent for a total of about 8 minutes, which is when a little girl from across the street came over to play with Avery. The tent sat empty for the vast majority of the next 24 hours, until the point that I took it down again in the face of an impending thunderstorm.



Avery really enjoyed playing with Skylar, the 9-year-old girl who lives across the street.



My guess is she probably needed another shower after sprinting back and forth across the yard. She didn't take one.



The next morning some neighbors brought their new grandson over to visit. He was a little cutie, complete with faux-hawk hairdo. Lily got a little time practicing sitting with a baby, something I hope she'll want to do a lot of when our baby arrives in October.



Later that night we decided to do the S'mores thing down by the lake. I did the best I could to start a fire with the materials at hand . . mostly some newspaper we brought, flimsy matches, and a bunch of green twigs. I wasn't pretty, and it certainly couldn't be called a bonfire, but it burned long enough to toast a few marshmallows, and that was all that really mattered.



This is the smile Avery got on her face each and every time dessert of any kind was mentioned. She loves her some junkfood.



Lily loved the idea of S'mores more than the real thing, but she posed for the camera and even showed off her new-found ability to roll her tongue. I am now the only member of the family who can't pull off that feat, although I've never really suffered much from that defecit.




In typical fashion I've saved the best for last, and unfortunately there is no accompanying photo. The funniest moment of the entire trip may have happened when we were about 2/3 of the way home on Monday. Lily and Avery were sleeping in the back seat of the car and Mandi was drifting in the passenger seat. We'd been in the car for close to 8 hours, and I'll admit I was more than a little bit lethargic. With the cruise control set at a modest 76 miles per hour, I negotiated my way around a few slower cars and was heading down a slight grade. I saw a hawk sitting on a utility pole off to the right, and as I leaned forward to get a better look I let the car drift slightly left and across the yellow line. To make matters worse, the road had started to curve gently to the right. Before I knew it I was snapping to attention and pulling the car back into my lane, the roadside rumble strips having done their job wonderfully. Mandi commented first, asking me what had happened. As I started to tell her Lily piped up from the back seat, apparently having been woken up by the sound, and said "Golly tamale Daddy, what was that?!?" All of us, including Avery, burst into uncontrolled laughter. I imagine I've got the good people at Noggin to thank for teaching her that phrase . .

We made it home after 12 hours in the car, and things are finally getting back to normal. Much has happened since then that's worth posting about, but for now the pool is calling our names.