(Black Morph)
Last week I had an email from my friend Carol from Abiquiu asking me to identify a beautiful yellow butterfly…the Tiger swallowtail. I had written an article on swallowtails the year before (it’s in the archives) and mentioned that here in Maine we have been inundated with these gorgeous creatures for more than a month. I was presently seeing them in my garden feasting on peonies and lemon lilies, they are also drawn to an old fashioned moon honeysuckle and my wild roses. Since Monarchs and Swallowtails are my favorite butterflies I am thrilled to be seeing so many in Maine. Imagine my surprise when a stunning blue - black butterfly landed on my foot as I was sitting on the ground this morning. I recognized the swallowtail instantly even though it has been a number of years here in Maine since I have had a visitation from one of these black morphs belonging to the Tiger swallowtail family.
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When I awaken before dawn each morning I stay in bed to listen to the first flute-like calls of the Hermit Thrush that nests every year down by my brook. Its poignant melancholy song begins with a single high note that ascends in an upward spiral, and for me it is probably the most beautiful bird song I have ever heard.
Although I rarely catch a glimpse of a Hermit Thrush when I do I recognize them instantly because these birds are quite beautiful with their rusty brown coloring, distinctly spotted breasts and reddish tails. Occasionally I have seen one while hiking through an open forest. Hermit Thrushes live in a wide variety of habitats, ranging from boreal forests of the far north to deciduous woods and mountain forests. Look for them in open wooded areas - trails, pond edges, mountain glades, or areas partially opened up by fallen trees. In winter, Hermit Thrushes often occupy lower-elevation forests with dense understory and berry bushes, including pine, broadleaf evergreen, and deciduous woods. I just picked the first violet blue flowers of the hairy vetch that was creeping along the road, its ladder like leaves following curling spirals. I noticed that a few plants had already found purchase on lupine spires; in my garden the delicate leaves and tendrils of the vine are just beginning their spiral ascent into deep green.
Here in Maine the plant begins to bloom in June and I make sure that I have some sprigs in my flower garden each year because long after deep blue is just a memory by mid-summer, hairy vetch provides my garden with blue and my fiery late summer bouquets with a delightfully deep contrast. The plant looks especially beautiful twining among a riot of colorful day lilies. I also love to watch its growth habits, the way its intriguing tendrils meander over the tops of other flowering plants seeking the heat of the sun.
Last year when I returned from New Mexico I found an Eastern Phoebe’s nest under the eaves above my front door. I witnessed the three nestlings mature with deep pleasure, happy because the phoebes have only nested on the house once before, though this little valley has been home to these endearing birds ever since I built the house. Every year I watch them hunt from the wild apple tree with its golden apples that spans the entire southern wall of the house and overlooks the brook. In fact I am watching a phoebe hunt as I write these words. In years past I always looked forward to their arrival in the early spring after a long Maine winter.
This spring the phoebes chose another nest site, probably one of their old ones, perhaps because last year I removed the dormer that protected their nest; I can’t be sure. When I first saw the black - capped chickadees coming to my open feeder this winter I was surprised. I looked back in my notes from last year to check. There were no black - capped chickadees included in the lengthy list of birds I had seen (a list that also included the mountain chickadee).
The b/c chickadees are such friendly little birds that it is easy to train them to eat out of one’s hand. And they are one of the few birds that greet me with an enthusiastic “chick a dee dee” chirp whenever I appear with sunflower seeds. I am particularly happy to see this species here in New Mexico, because Audubon says that the Black capped chickadees are moving northward due to climate change/tree devastation. Fortunately they are still around my house in Maine. A number of years ago I decided to raise some baby mallards. As a child I used to feed and make friends with them, even as a toddler I was told. Because I live so close to North Pond I decided to raise some mallards and release them on the lake, although I had never seen mallards here and wondered why. After doing some preliminary research I learned that this area was a breeding area for wild mallards, so I figured that I had nothing to lose.
What an adventure! The “quackers” were characters. My dog adored them and they seemed equally fascinated with her because whenever Star visited with them they would waddle over to quack excitedly at her when she pawed their cage. I came to love them too, and although they made a horrible mess I loved the quackers enthusiastic morning greeting. When the day came to release them I felt sad. By this time I had spent a lot of time in my kayak looking for a safe haven for the youngsters. I created a nest at the end of a peninsula, and left them there on North Pond. I saw the quackers occasionally during that summer but when they migrated in the fall they didn’t return… I believed my experiment to re- introduce them had failed. |
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