Thankful Thursday: wild morning

At a little after 7:00 this morning, we headed out for our walk. After a couple blocks of sunshine and birdsong, Emma decided it was time to relieve herself on the U.S. Customs and Border Protection lawn (shucks, no poop sack 🤷 ). As Zippy and I waited, a crow that’d been on the CBP roof flew down and dropped something furry a few feet from Emma. The crow hopped around as Zippy moved in for a closer look and announced, “It’s a mole.”

For whatever reason, the crow had gifted Emma/us with a dead mole! When we declined the gift (well, Zippy and I declined it without giving Emma a vote) and walked away, the crow picked up the mole and flew back to the CBP roof. That was a first for us. In Colorado, magpies regularly gifted us with pretty stones which we always thought were thanks for the peanut feeders and bird bath we provided. This dead rodent? A gift out of the blue.

Our second gift came later in the walk as we explored a street that was new to us. Suddenly, we were in dense forest where the air was clean and cool.

But it wasn’t only us in the forest. I looked down to see Gift #3 crossing the road:

I have no idea what kind of beetle this is (paging Mara at The Dirty Sneaker!) except that it was at least an inch long.

Later, after a stop at the local bakery for some muffins, we arrived back home where I cut some chard from our garden to add to my smoothie. When I went to wash out my blender, there was Wild Gift #4:

I know, I know. Most people aren’t fans of snails and their slime trails, especially not when they land on their dish cloths as a result of washing garden greens. But snails fascinate me. After watching it move about, I gently carried this one back outside to the flower portion of the garden. Slime away, funny snail!

So that’s my odd gratitude list. In this moment, I’m grateful for all the wildness in my life, big and small. These are very difficult days but as organizer Kelly Hayes says, there’s still so much left to fight for. Wishing everyone a day graced by the natural world. Solidarity!

Critical pollinators

Guanella Pass. August 1, 2024

When asked to describe insect species that can pollinate flowers, most people think of bees, butterflies, moths, and hummingbirds. However, flies are critical pollinators in both natural and agricultural systems. A recent analysis of crop species found that flies visited 72% of the 105 crops studied (bees visited 93%).   ~ Penn State Extension

Confession: I’ve often said mean things about flies buzzing around me and am going to try to remember this the next time one enters my orbit. Flies are critical to the planet. Me? Not so much. (Note: click on image to get a better look at those eyes!)

When the big picture is too much

Nature is always, always my refuge, and never more than during hard times. When the world feels too cruel and feelings of overwhelm engulf me, I know to put my focus on the little things. Yesterday I grounded myself by watching these Japanese Beetles on my in-laws’ raspberry plant.

Yes, I know Japanese Beetles are very destructive because they destroy leaves and crops. However, it’s hard to hold a grudge while belonging to the most destructive species on the planet. Humans do a lot more damage than these stunning, iridescent beetles, and yesterday I was grateful to gaze upon their splendor.

This morning as Zippy and I walked Emma around the neighborhood, I paused at a clump of Russian Sage to check out the bee situation. As expected, there were honey bees, but I was especially tickled to notice three grasshoppers perched in various places throughout.

They all seemed to be just chillin’ amongst the purple blooms. I’m in awe of grasshoppers’ intricate bodies and can’t stop looking at this image. How do all those pieces fit together? What percentage of the total body mass are those two enormous eyes? And do their joints ever get tired from all that hopping?

Once again, nature for the win.

Twofer Tuesday: grasshopper edition

This robin held those two grasshoppers in its beak for about ten minutes. When I first spotted it on the wire, I refrained from running for my camera because I was sure it would fly off and I didn’t want to miss watching it. I was curious about how it would ingest two grasshoppers at once.

July 29, 2022

But after several minutes of the bird staying put while turning its head side-to-side, I went for the camera AND took the time to switch out the lenses. Still there! I took a bunch of shots, playing with the settings, and then went back to watching. Soon, a house finch landed on the wire a few feet away. It also appeared curious about the robin’s intent. Then, from off in the distance, another bird flew toward the wire. Before I could identify it, the finch and robin took off.

They knew what was up: a Cooper’s Hawk! The raptor landed in the tree, but all its potential meals had disappeared. We were both disappointed. I’ll never know if that robin was able to eat both grasshoppers.

Sunday Confessional: enthusiasm deficit

It’s been a rough day on the heels of other emotionally difficult days this week. Despite ordering one of these Let This Radicalize You (rather than lead you to despair) shirts a few days ago, I confess to tilting heavily toward despair right now. No need for me to list the multiple crises we’re facing because that’ll just make me more sad/angry and give people reason to quit reading.

Instead, I’ll celebrate the fact that I’m no longer withdrawing into myself and am here with a post. HELLO, OUT THERE!

Here’s one of my favorite recent photos:

June 22, 2022

Okay, that’s it for my burst of energy. Sending good wishes to anyone who’s read this far . . . 💚

Twofer Tuesday: known and unknown

Funny how something is an instant “known” and then, upon closer examination, can turn into an “unknown.” For example, this insect I photographed back in August while visiting the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge. Clearly a grasshopper, right?

August 20, 2021

Well, I just went down the proverbial rabbit hole in an attempt to more specifically identify the type of grasshopper. I’m admitting defeat. Apparently, there are over 100 species of grasshopper in Colorado and to my eye, the markings on their legs are quite similar.

On the other hand, this immediately “unknown” insect was quickly identified via an online search as Tetraopes texanus, otherwise known as the Milkweed Beetle. Oddly, this particular beetle is not on a milkweed (and no, I’m not even going to try to identify this plant).

On this cold, damp, gray November afternoon, I’m basking in the warm memories of that visit to the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge where keen eyes reap intriguing rewards.

 

Twofer Tuesday: grackle edition

Common Grackle, Jackson Lake State Park. May 27, 2021

I spent several enjoyable minutes watching another grackle stride through the vegetation, snapping at insects it’d kicked up. While it was a very efficient process, it unfortunately didn’t seem to make a dent in the insect population.

Twofer Tuesday: Barn Swallow edition

I stayed in a KOA cabin in Grand Island, Nebraska, earlier this month. The cabin was cute and cozy, but the highlight was the Barn Swallow presence.

June 4, 2020

June 4, 2020

They’d built a nest on the beam above the front porch and were very active. I was so focused on photographing this pair I didn’t realize I was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes. I shudder to think how many bites I would’ve gotten if those swallows weren’t there to catch and eat mosquitoes on the wing. I’m definitely on #TeamSwallow when it comes to biting insects.

 

Poppy bee mine

I had poppy-envy yesterday as I walked the neighborhood. One yard was filled with happy orange poppies, bouncing in the breeze. Why hadn’t mine bloomed yet?

This morning, I looked out the window and saw two bursts of orange! And when I got closer with my camera, I saw the bees were also celebrating those cheery blooms.

Front yard. May 16, 2020.

Such a nice way to begin my weekend. Wishing everyone a blooming-good day!

Highly recommend

I spent the majority of this day offline. In the morning, I exercised and then spent the afternoon reading through the second draft of my middle-grade novel while jotting notes to myself. After that, as some kind of misguided reward for my discipline and productivity, I went online for a peek at reality. Oh, my.

Rage. Rage. Rage.

April 27, 2020.

I quickly logged out of Twitter and went outside to calm myself. That’s when I heard a whole lot of buzzing. I grabbed my camera and patio chair, and parked next to one of our shrubs that’s flowering. As the bees buzzed and flew around my head, I achieved my calm.

I highly recommend this remedy.

Simple kindness

Blue Mist Spirea. August 31, 2017.

We ought to do good to others as simply as a horse runs, or a bee makes honey, or a vine bears grapes season after season without thinking of the grapes it has borne.
~ Marcus Aurelius

Sunday Confessional: sometimes anxiety just is

I’ve been trying to work on my revisions this afternoon. I’m listening to Beethoven through my earbuds in an attempt to drown out the present reality and it seems to work in short bursts. I’m focused and then . . .I’m not. So I decided to look at some photos to find something to put here, and began examining pictures of birds, flowers, waterways, and other typically calming images.

May 3, 2019. Clearwater, Florida.

Well? Right now, my heart is racing. Adrenaline is pumping and it’s as if there’s no escaping my anxiety.

Rather than try to (unsuccessfully) distract myself from these feelings, I’m going to try another approach. I’m going to sit with my anxiety. Because maybe it’s like how you’re not supposed to run when you encounter a bear: if I don’t run from my anxiety, maybe it’ll quit chasing me.

Red Eyes R Us

My one last act before stepping away from the computer today is to post this photo of a boxelder bug. I didn’t realize when I photographed it this afternoon that it has red eyes. Guess what? So do I after all that computer work.

Solidarity, Boxelder!

Tiny matters

Ladybug on Apache Plume in backyard.                        March 12, 2019.

The older I get, the more I’m conscious of ways very small things can make a change in the world. Tiny little things, but the world is made up of tiny matters, isn’t it?
~ Sandra Cisneros