There have been a lot of dragonflies and butterflies this year, due at least in part to heavier than usual May and June rains. These evocatively named Widow Skimmers, this one a male, according to the blue body, have provided near constant supervision and companionship out in the garden beds.
Skipper butterflies continue to visit daily, their erratic flight patterns reminding me of Charles Schulz's flittering companion for Snoopy, the adorable Woodstock. Yes, Woodstock is a bird, a little yellow bird, but besides his random low-level aviation preferences (he got beak bleeds if he went too high) you may recall Snoopy pulling out a field guide and attempting to identify Woodstock, to no avail.
I'm not sure the artist ever actually identified Woodstock "as" any specific bird. Snoopy gave up his attempt with a shrug. The point was not "what" Woodstock was, other than being Snoopy's close companion.
I can relate. At times knowing is important. Other times...not so much.
Here, what I think is a Sachem Skipper busily nectaring on a coneflower, while another different type of skipper butterfly can be seen clambering up onto the business end of a second bloom in the background.
Coneflowers are an ongoing steady draw for skippers and other butterflies. Beautiful at every stage, these dramatic late bloomers fill in just as other flowers are fading for the season.
As well as attracting pollinators to their flowers, finches are drawn to the developing coneflowers seed heads.
This Lesser Goldfinch might have been hungry when he got here, but there was no reason to leave that way. This one could have been after the seed heads of some blanketflower nearby. After snapping this I retreated rather than interrupt. Finches can be shy, as behooves a bird small enough to perch easily on a flower stem.
Speaking of shy, the spiny lizards have sure been out in numbers all around our area. Over the years we'd spot one or more of these a couple of times a season so we always knew they were around, but this summer we are seeing them daily, if only for a moment and often only as they are skittering to whatever feels like safety.
I think they are quite handsome, and hope their population micro-explosion continues. I'm not sure what they feed on, I've purposefully avoided seeking that information out. I'd rather enjoy the idea they are here without "knowing" what they eating. In my horticultural haven, everything eats unspecified garden pests. So let it be written...
Spider webs were absolutely everywhere all July long, and the entrance of August has not seen much of an abatement. There are scads of messy webs in the tips of lots of tree and small shrub branches, originally leading me to believe we'd been invaded by web worms. Closer inspection revealed they are webs sans worms.
They make for interesting photos as the webbing renders like a loss of focus by the camera lens. I'm demanding all my future photographic portraits be shot through this stuff.
Here's an example of what I think of when I think of spider webs, the more traditional intersecting silk gridwork. I wasn't able to capture the iridescence of this as it undulated in the morning breezes. the camera only able to "see" one color wavelength at a time.
I've always wondered if spiders appreciate their work for being attractive as well as functional? Can't you just imagine a group of spiders gathered to critique each other's efforts? The mouthy one (there's one in every group) is holding forth "So here is where Francesca went a little off grid, commenting on the disorganization of modernity as superimposed.." while Francesca leans over to the spider next to her to whisper "That is where I trapped and wrapped my dinner. Disorganization of modernity, my ass!".
In the very last days of July, I ended up taking a series of shots attempting to capture the antics of a pair of tufted titmice. I first noticed one bird hunting insects all around the Candyland bird bath.
This guy hunted for bugs in the water, and then went after a couple of unguarded wasp nests over the kitchen window. At that point he was joined by a previously unseen hunting partner.
The two of them investigated every clump of ball moss and patch of lichen in the oak trees overhead.
They were nothing if not thorough. Nobody is handing these guys anything, they worked hard, staying in near ceaseless motion.
At least they're working in the shade. It was 95 degrees when I took these and the temperature was still climbing.
And that is it for this August's Wildlife Wednesday. Only mad dogs and wildlife garden bloggers go out in the sun in July and August, the bloggers no doubt working to chronicle fellow hot weather denizens for their own Wildlife Wednesday posts. I hope you've enjoyed taking a quick peak at some of what is happening on the other side of all our lowered shades and closed curtains this time of year.
Please note: all the identifications made here are my own amateur efforts unless specifically credited to another source. If you are pretty sure I've labeled something incorrectly, feel free to point that out in the comments section. We'll all feel better afterwards if you do, or at least I certainly will!
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Thanks to the remarkable Tina at My Gardener Says for hosting the first Wednesday of each month's Wildlife Wednesdays. As she notes, "A garden is never so alive and vibrant than when it is graced by wildlife." Be sure to visit her amazing blog and discover the potential rewards of enjoying your very own garden spaces along with the creatures who depend upon them for their daily sip, seed, or bug.
