I love any excuse to say “fritillary.”
I love any excuse to say “fritillary.”
Daddy duties.
This Ruby-throated Hummingbird is likely headed for Central America. Its wings beat up to 200 times per second. How many wingbeats does it take to get to its winter home? Trying to determine that gives me a math headache.
Things are looking up for this Red-breasted Nuthatch, which is willing to work for peanuts.
A lovely katydid who did or didn’t.
I’m thinking this Yellow Woolly Bear will grow up to be a Virginian Tiger Moth.
A Ring-billed Gull waits for the garbage to be delivered.
A White-breasted Nuthatch has no negative impact on humans. That cannot be said about any human.
Mourning Doves feed crop milk or pigeon milk to their nestlings. I have been unable to find either one of those at the local supermarket, so I’ll stick with cow and almond milk. I’ve milked many cows, but not one almond.
A bumble bee is a humble bee.
This Gray Catbird was threatening to enter into a catfight with a Blue Jay.
A Rose-breasted Grosbeak trying to stay awake during a webinar on the importance of trip or migration insurance.
A molting Blue Jay looking for a hat.
It may be fall, but Blackburnian Warblers are worth getting warbler neck.
It may be fall, but Blackburnian Warblers are worth getting warbler neck.
A springtime Blackburnian Warbler.
I once knew a guy named Johnny “Two-Bottom” Johnson. This is not him, but it is a two-bottom plow.
A Yellow Warbler isn’t very big, but it’s all bird.
This Red-bellied Woodpecker is growing up right before my eyes.
The Tennessee Warbler is found in Tennessee, but only during migration.
I’ll bet this is a 1926 edition of a Ford Model T.
Seen on a farm near St. Clair, Minnesota.
Orbweavers make my spider senses tingle.
By Al Batt
For the Birds
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
You’re eating your tomato soup with a fork.
I know.
Why are you doing that?
I don’t like tomato soup.
Driving by Bruce’s drive
I have a wonderful neighbor, named Bruce. Whenever I pass his drive, thoughts occur to me, such as: It rained hard enough for about 10 minutes that I felt as if I were standing on the bottom of a lake.
Nothing is the way it was yesterday and it will never be. That’s the way it has always been.
I thought of the flu of 1918. Historians are unable to pinpoint its origin, but the first reported case in the U.S. was in Kansas and spread quickly through the ranks of the Army.
The U.S. had wartime censors in place that suppressed news about the flu, which might have had a negative effect on the country’s morale. Cover-up and denial aided the spread of the flu.
When the flu hit Spain, which didn’t have such strict censorship, it became the Spanish Flu.
The first case reported in Minnesota was a soldier returning home to Wells. About 12,000 Minnesotans died from the flu and an estimated 50 million died worldwide.
Approximately 675,000 died in the U.S., 10 times more than those who died in combat. Of the 118,500 Minnesotans serving in the war, 1,432 were killed. Another 2,175 died of other causes.
The official records show that 114,242 Iowans served in the armed forces during WWI. Of those, 3,576 died. The flu killed over 6,000 Iowans plus 702 soldiers at Camp Dodge.
A conspiracy theory means someone had internet access
My GPS whispered. It wasn’t because we were in a bad neighborhood. It was because my wife had turned off the sound. She finds it easier to look for addresses when it’s quiet. She believes silence turns her into an eagle-eyed individual. That hardly qualifies as a conspiracy theory.
I have a conspiracy theory about conspiracy theories. I don’t have one, so people feel an obligation to share theirs. Other than those related to the JFK shooting, I didn’t grow up oblivious to the truth.
Oh, there was the belief a certain teacher was the devil’s spawn, and other urban and rural legends. We had ghost stories; the main one being the Schuch family murders that occurred in Iosco Township, northwest of Waseca in 1929.
The details were grisly, a stolen safe was never found and no arrests were made (a 1965 deathbed confession was dismissed). People claimed to have seen apparitions. I liked to be frightened for some odd reason. Now I don’t. Ghost stories weren’t as scary as conspiracy theories.
In local news
Man found guilty of overusing commas receives long sentence.
Police expect bad winter based on firewood thefts.
New hand sanitizer contains mother’s spit.
A masked moment
I wish everything in life was as easy as wearing a mask. It’s no risk to me. I can perfect my ventriloquism techniques or pretend I’m a surgeon who wants to strangle the coronavirus with a mask. A mask is an exercise program that surpasses the StairMaster. I get out of my car, walk 20 steps before realizing I’d left my mask in the car. I retrace my steps, grab the mask and relaunch. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Nature notes
The Dog Days are over (July 3 — August 11), but folklore says every fog in August equals a snowfall in winter. An inchworm or looper (small caterpillar), measured me for a new suit. I watched ants move about. The ground was their roof and my floor.
White-breasted nuthatches made odd sounds as they traveled on bark in pursuit of food. The male has a black cap and the female’s cap is grayer. An American goldfinch male flew high in circles or figure eights. It’s the state bird of Iowa, New Jersey and Washington.
Naturally
Much goes on while I’m indoors and many things can be camouflaged as nothing without investigation.
Swallows swept the sky. Dragonflies did some stunt flying. As the ruler does to other school supplies, the monarch butterfly ruled the other butterflies of the yard. A molt made a blue jay look as if it had a self-haircut.
Observe nature long enough and you will expect the unexpected. I watched a Cooper’s hawk fly over carrying a snake. The hawk wasn’t the snake’s Uber driver.
A friend reported a less than bashful young red-tailed hawk in his yard. Young hawks don’t have any online videos to watch and learn how to hunt, so they sometimes exhibit strange behavior.
Bald-faced hornets and yellowjackets attack honey bee colonies. Those two provide the worst stings in Minnesota. If you’re stung by one and have any reaction away from the sting site, seek medical attention.
A bald-faced hornet queen collects wood fiber to make a gray paper nest the size of a football or basketball suspended from a tree branch, eaves or other structure.
The easiest way to collect a nest is to wait until the hornets have abandoned the nest in the fall (after the first hard freeze or by late October). Hornet nests are annual, lasting one summer and its occupants, except the fertilized queens that leave, die in the fall.
If you’re the cautious kind, slip a large plastic bag over the nest and tie it shut. It isn’t necessary to treat the nest in any way. The nests make great conversation pieces and persist if suspended in a dry location where it won’t be damaged by handling or vibration.
I was walking when something hit me in the chest. I grabbed it just as I saw two cicada killer wasps fly by. I hoped I hadn’t grabbed a wasp. I’d never been stung by one and I didn’t want to start. My capture was a cicada.
Q&A
“Why are moths attracted to lights?” Scientists aren’t certain. You’ve heard “like a moth to a flame” to describe a fatal attraction. That’s a moth to a bug zapper. One idea is that some insects use the moon or bright stars as a compass and lights resemble the moon or stars.
The lights might trick moths into seeing visual illusions of darker areas near the lights’ edges and moths fly toward these dark hiding places. Another idea supposes that lights at night blind moths by swamping the light receptors in their eyes and disorienting them.
Another theory says that light sources which emit ultraviolet light attract moths that mistake them for flowers. Infrared radiation from light sources may look like the heat reflection from moth pheromones – chemicals released by insects to attract mates.
Thanks for stopping by
“Only in the last moment of human history has the delusion arisen that people can flourish apart from the rest of the living world.” – E. O. Wilson
“The grass is greener when you get outside.” – David Suzuki
©Al Batt 2020
Argiope aurantia is commonly known as the yellow garden spider, black and yellow garden spider, yellow and black garden spider, golden garden spider, golden orb weaver, corn spider, scribbler spider, writing spider and McKinley spider. In 1896, one reportedly predicted the U.S. presidential election by weaving McKinley’s name in her stabilimentum.
Photo by Al Batt
The Purple Martins have flown the coop for greener pastures, or at least pastures with more insects. They are out of their gourds. It might be the election. Craig Turner could have been wishing PUMAs well when he wrote this, “So long, Farewell, To every passerbye, To you I hope the sun shines, And you enjoy a wonderful life.”
A Differential Grasshopper peeks out from its hiding place in a Bottle or Closed Gentian.
Wood Ducks float on a pond made green by algae. Some people call it pond scum. I don’t. I’ve been called pond scum and it hurt. It was true, but it still hurt.
I’m still seeing lightning bugs or fireflies. I tend to use the term “firefly.” The common eastern firefly or big dipper firefly is the most common species of firefly in North America.
Blazing Star is a star of this tiny prairie.
A fine Northern Flicker feather flung from the flicker in a flicker for me to find.
The Woolly Bear Caterpillar or Woolly Worm is a famed weather prognosticator. The wider the rusty brown section, the milder the coming winter will be. The more black there is, the more severe the nearing winter. This one shows there will definitely be a winter.
The young Baltimore Orioles are in their stances, ready to migrate. I’ll miss them.
A hummingbird leaf.
I love barbed wire birds like this Western Kingbird.
A treed Field Sparrow.
The Cecropia Moth, North American’s largest native moth.
Female and male Brewer’s Blackbirds. The bird is named after ornithologist Thomas Mayo Brewer who didn’t invent mayonnaise.
Female and male Brewer’s Blackbirds. The bird is named after ornithologist Thomas Mayo Brewer who didn’t invent mayonnaise.
What happens when a spider sneezes.
The peanuts were gone and the thief left these calling cards. I put them back on the ground in case the molting Blue Jay wanted them back.
Smooching cardinals.
A Rose-breasted Grosbeak sang loudly and proudly today. It was unexpected, but a great welcome to September.
A molting Northern Cardinal.
A young Red-bellied Woodpecker.
Oleander Aphids. That’s not the name of an amateur baseball team from Oleander, Minnesota, that just missed going to the state tournament. Some would call these a herd of Milkweed Aphids.
“Every night my honey lamb and I Sit alone and talk And watch a hawk Makin' lazy circles in the sky.” That’s from “Oklahoma.” Here in Minnesota, we watch Red-tailed Hawks perch on utility poles.
Beaky Buzzard was a Looney Tunes character. This perched and flying bird is a Turkey Vulture.
By Al Batt
For the Birds in The Caledonia Argus
Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting
A sweater I bought was filled with static electricity, so I returned it to the store.
Did you get a different sweater?
Yes, they gave me one free of charge.
Driving by Bruce’s drive
I have a wonderful neighbor named Bruce. Whenever I pass his drive, thoughts occur to me, such as: The morning began early. I made tea before turning on the radio and learning the “Now what?” of the day. It sounded as if the weather forecast was for rain followed by a Thursday, but I might have heard wrong.
Would John Wayne wear a mask? Someone might have to put it on him as he’d be 113 years old now, but he’d wear one as he wanted to be the hero in his movies. He’d say as he did in “Flying Tigers,” “Don’t try to win this war all by yourself.” Or maybe he’d quote his character from “Stagecoach, “Well, there are some things a man just can’t run away from.”
I listened to some songs by John Prine, who is most often my favorite singer, and died from the dad-blamed COVID-19.
It was low-hanging fruit
My wife was in a grocery store. She wanted to buy a seedless watermelon. The store kept their watermelons in a huge box at the end of an aisle. There was only one melon left in that container and she couldn’t reach it.
She said there were no big people around to help her. I have been asked often to grab an item from the top shelf for someone. I’m vertically enhanced and the one asking wasn’t. One day, I’m going to ask a short person to get something from the bottom shelf for me. That would be good. I could use the help.
And the winners in the Worst Joke category are
“What is brown, wrinkled and lives in a tower?” The lunch bag of Notre Dame.
“What breed of dogs enjoys taking baths?” There are two — the shampoodle and the bathithound.
We got a puppy to help us get through the pandemic. Unfortunately, my husband turned out to be allergic to dogs. I need to find a new home for him. His name is Robert. He’s 59, handy around the house and has a nice car.
What’s the difference between a hippo and a Zippo? One is heavy and the other is a little lighter.
Six things I shoulda, woulda, coulda, had oughta done in 2019
Bought more books from the Friends of the Library. Visited with and hugged everyone. Read up on toilet paper hoarding. Found a good mask to get the flu to skidoo. Planned a bigger garden. Invested in Zoom.
Nature notes
A blue jay flew into a feeder holding peanuts in the shell. The jay picked up a number of peanuts and put them back down as it searched for the perfect goober. Finding one with the weight that indicated good eating inside, the bird flew off with it.
Jerry and Jill Morstad of Albert Lea had a mallard raise a family in a nest in a tree in their yard. They live along a busy street, so Jerry erected a “Duckling crossing” sign.
Goldenrods bloom and don’t cause hay fever as their heavy pollen is carried by insects. Great and common ragweeds shed pollen causing hay fever symptoms.
Wild cucumber, an annual native vine, blooms with small white flowers. The rambunctious plant has star-shaped leaves and spiky fruit. Orb spider webs in grasses are evident on dewy mornings and make swell photos.
If you get lost in the woods, follow a Virginia opossum. You’ll end up in the middle of a road.
Naturally
I walked to the mailbox. There were butterflies puddling — obtaining sodium and other minerals concentrated in a moist spot on the sandy roadside. I often see sulphurs, cabbage whites, azures, swallowtails and red-spotted purple butterflies engaged in such an activity. Most are males seeking nutrients. They allow approach which leads to photo opportunities. Puddling stations can be made by filling a shallow pan or dish (pie tin, saucer, etc.) and sprinkling salt on it or adding overripe fruit (bananas work well), stale beer, or leaf or manure compost. Water it to keep it moist.
A hint of fall is in the red leaves of Virginia creeper twining around trees. Twin fawns are a kind of “terrible twos.” Their gangliness will soon be replaced with fluidity and fleetness. I don’t think “gangliness” is a valid Scrabble word, but it fits them.
I checked the rain gauge. There was just enough rain to make it worth looking at. A fox squirrel walked up and smelled all my toes (she might have been counting them) made available by my sandals. She climbed the post hosting the rain gauge to say hello.
It was a squirrel that my wife and I adopted from the good folks at the Wildlife Rehabilitation Center. The squirrel appeared well and prospering. Squirrels spend around 60% of their time sleeping.
A study found they average 14.9 hours of sleep each day in a nest called a drey composed of twigs and sticks, and lined with moss, bark, grass and leaves. The nest is typically built at least 20 feet high in the fork of a tall tree.
It’s common for squirrels to have second and third nests to use in an emergency to hide from a predator, as food storage or as a temporary rest stop.
Gulls flew over. Curt Nelson of Albert Lea was in Florida when he put his hearing aid on an outdoor table and a bird flew down and grabbed it. It never brought the hearing aid back. I suspect it had been a gull. They show little remorse.
Q&A
“Do Japanese beetle traps work?” Yes, but they may attract more beetles than they catch. They do give you the satisfaction of doing them in. Japanese beetles have been documented feeding on over 350 different plants. Adult Japanese beetles become active in Minnesota in late June/early July. Adults feed primarily in July and August, although some may be active into September.
“How long do cicadas live?” Dog day cicadas, also called annual cicadas, hatch from eggs laid in a slit of a tree twig. The tiny nymphs drop to the ground and burrow, where they live 2 — 5 years, sucking juices from plant roots. During the dog days of July and August, they claw to the surface, climb a tree and molt into a winged adult that might live 5 — 6 weeks. The shed skin remains behind, while the adults sing and mate. Some adults emerge each year and are most common in wooded areas, parks, and treed borders.
Meeting adjourned
The old catchphrase of Rexall Drugstores was, “Good health to all from Rexall.” The same to you from me.
Thanks for stopping by
“If you can’t explain it to a six-year-old, you don’t understand it yourself.” - Albert Einstein
Do good.
© Al Batt 2020
A rose by any other name is still eaten by a Japanese beetle.
This hibiscus made the “loser” sign as I walked by. I’m not going to argue with a flower.
A Red Squirrel swears like three sailors.
A goldfinch named Eeyore feeding on thistles.
Young orioles aren’t much for reading the labels of jelly jars or anything else.
Being a father can be hard on a dandy daddy like this Northern Cardinal.
Being a father can be hard on a dandy daddy like this Northern Cardinal.
A Common Green Darner, the “darning needle” or “mosquito hawk” is migrating south.
A hummingbird, a honeybee and a ladybug go into a bar. Think up your own punchline.
It felt good being a hummingbird for a moment, but it was difficult getting my face down low enough to fit the hole in the hummingbird’s head. I identified with the bird as I have a hole in my head as well.
It’s in Henderson, Minnesota and was canceled this year, but next year will be a jubilation.
Humpty Dumpty is about to have a short, but eggceptional fall.
A House Wren peers into my house. Wondering if it’s for wrent, I suppose.
Let us spray.
Another warm day. Even the sweat bees were sweating.
This Differential Grasshopper (I love the herringbone pattern on the hind legs) is on one of those diets where you eat everything while upside down.
A Rose-breasted Grosbeak dropped by to bid me adieu.
A monarch butterfly in training learns about ants.
A Cochin hen finds the grass greener.
The nuptial tubercle on the topside of its beak makes the pelican the rhinoceros of the bird world.
A Giant Ichneumon wasp with her dramatically long ovipositor. These beauties are occasionally called “stump stabbers.”
The exoskeletons of escaped Annual Cicadas that should be considered winged and sonorous.
A Cedar Waxwing appears to have been carved into perfection.
The Red-headed Woodpecker is a flying checkerboard.
The Fox Squirrel’s hammock is a bit different from mine.
Pelicans pretending to be on a beach in Florida.