What a stupendous morning in Estabrook Park. I know there is one more day of August left, but it will be hard pressed to provide a better send-off than today. Might as well just call tomorrow September 0.
The sky was clear and the air was cool, dry, and calm.
Yesterday was nice too, if a little breezy, and a slightly-roughed-up painted lady was sipping from a bull thistle blossom in the bright afternoon sun.
And a roughed-up clouded sulphur finally, if inadvertently, showed off the dark strip on the top side of its wing(s).
However, while small quantities of parts of the mature plants may be consumed, the seeds and seedlings should not be eaten in large quantities because they contain significant concentrations of the extremely toxic chemical carboxyatratyloside. The mature plant also contains at least four other toxins.”
Probably best to leave this one alone. Instead, if you’re hungry, it looks like someone dropped a bunch of raisinets on the soccer field.
Just kidding. Don’t eat those either. The five-second rule has long expired, Silly.
What a nice change in the weather yesterday evening’s thunderstorm ushered in, right? Once again everything looked fresh and clean, the pond was full, and the river was high.
As I’ve been seeing a lot lately, a flight of Canada geese flew over with great fanfare, and a youngish-looking great blue heron visited the pond. It was nice to catch the heron on the west side of the pond for a change.
A doe and fawn were on the soccer fields again, but I let them be.
The fun, new, and surprising guest this morning is this sharp-looking, even if a little beat up, Hermia underwing (Catocala hermia) that was out and about a little after its bedtime, i.e. dawn. In the first image (top/left), it is in its daytime/hiding configuration. In the second image (bottom/right), it has just landed and is still showing a little bit of its orange and black striped hindwing or underwing. Click here for an image that better shows the striking underwing.
The Pedia of Wik exhaustively explains that “it is believed that the bright colors, arranged in usually roughly concentric markings, at a casual glance resemble the eyes of a predatory animal, such as a cat. An underwing moth, well camouflaged in its daytime resting spot on a tree trunk or branch, will suddenly flash open the hindwings when disturbed. A bird or other small predator that is not used to this display is likely to be frightened, allowing the moth to escape. However, unlike some other bright-colored moths which are bad-tasting or even poisonous to predators, underwing moths are well palatable at least to some birds (e.g. the blue jay, Cyanocitta cristata). To assist in avoiding nocturnal predators such as bats, these moths also possess (like many of their relatives) fairly well-developed hearing organs.”
There are dozens and dozens of species of these underwing moths that all look amazingly similar. For a brief peek at the rabbit hole I’ve been down this morning trying to ID this particular one, click here, here, or here. I’ve sequentially thought it was a bride underwing, a youthful underwing, and a once-married underwing, but finally settled on hermia underwing based on this photo by Jim Moore. Note the distinct circular shape with a dark outline halfway along the leading edge of each wing. I think it is a good match.
Phew! Time for one more? This one is a lot easier. The crazy looking contraption pictured below is a raceme of doll’s-eyes or white baneberry (Actaea pachypoda) berries growing in the woods just north of the maintenance yard, east of the middle parking lot.
As tasty as they look, DO NOT EAT THEM! As always, the Pedia of Wik helpfully explains, “both the berries and the entire plant are considered poisonous to humans. The berries contain cardiogenic toxins which can have an immediate sedative effect on human cardiac muscle tissue, and are the most poisonous part of the plant. Ingestion of the berries can lead to cardiac arrest and death.”
“The berries are harmless to birds”, however, who are “the plant’s primary seed dispersers.”
Okay, that’s enough for today, eh? I’ll save the rest for tomorrow in case I come up dry after my walk.
I got a late start in the park this morning, and it was plenty hot and muggy by the time I arrived. The closest thing to excitement was watching a young-looking great blue heron fly in low from the west, headed for the pond. By the time I caught up, it was already settled in and busy fishing.
Huh. I didn’t even realize it had caught a fish, visible in the third image, until I got home and could look at the pictures on the big screen.
Nearby was yet another daisey-shaped yellow flower, but this one was a little unusual. The long stalk to the flower had no leaves, as most sunflower looking plants do. Instead, the leaves were huge, almost a foot long and grew straight out of the ground on their own short stems instead. This turns out to be prairie dock or prairie rosinweed (Silphium terebinthinaceum), a native “member of the Asteraceae family that includes sunflowers” and asters.
The Pedia of Wik gives more details about this interesting variety: “The leaves are … oriented vertically and in a north-south direction, providing special adaptations for survival in the prairie climate. The combination of north-south and vertical arrangement seems to provide a mechanism for maintaining lower leaf temperatures at midday, thus conserving water. Additionally, this unique trait grants the plant better access to sunlight for photosynthesis.” Fancy! Furthermore, “this dicot also has a characteristically large taproot able to penetrate to depths of at least 14 feet (4 m) in search of the water table.” Holy Moly! A 14 foot tap root!
On the dirt pile in the middle parking lot, of all places, I finally found another flower-of-an-hour or bladder hibiscus (Hibiscus trionum), “an annual plant native to the Old World tropics and subtropics”, which we first saw a couple of weeks ago across the road from the pond, where it got clipped by the lawn more. Sadly, I still have not managed to catch one when it is fully open, even though I stopped by three times this morning. Instead, all I got were these tantalizing looks.
That’s right, this is our 150th day of continuous reporting, since all the way back to March 30, and the heat and humidity are definitely back. The river has risen again, too, due to the heavier rain they received upstream on Tuesday, I suppose, and taking its sweet time to get here.
The new find for today is actually a threefer, if you can believe it. I stumbled across this amazing scene on the river trail just south of the falls, and what we have here seems to be:
a long, narrow, and colorful ailanthus webworm moth (Atteva aurea), an ermine moth. Yes, a moth that resembles a beetle when not in flight, but a wasp in flight, which I didn’t think to witness;
Another astounding sight I got to witness this morning is our striking female black and yellow garden spider (Argiope aurantia), whom we just saw on Monday in the bull thistle, quickly handling a fresh catch in her web, some sort of small cricket or katydid. And, once she had it all wrapped up, in just a minute or so, she immediately went back to her post on the stabilimentum she created down the center of her web. If you look closely at the middle image, you can even see the wide band of silk strands she is secreting to wrap her prey way more efficiently than she should could with just one strand at a time.
That’s it for today, I’m afraid. Just bugs and blossoms. Sorry about that. I’ll try for some bigger critters next time. Maybe a salamander. We haven’t seen one of those yet, and who doesn’t want to see a salamander, right? I know I sure would like to.
The park feels shiny and new this morning after yesterday’s rain. The pond is full and clear, and the flowers have perked up nicely. With the pond full, the stream to the river is running again, and those little fish, maybe darters, were already in it by the middle of yesterday afternoon. The river went up about a foot, based on the fresh strandline location, and has already receded much of that distance.
Speaking of sipping nectar, did anyone see the blurb in yesterday’s NYT Science Times on the recent discovery about how honey bees drink nectar? It turns out that they can either sip it or lap it, depending on how viscous it is. “Once again, insects prove to be more complicated than scientists thought they were.” Well, these aren’t technically “honey bees”, but perhaps they are just as versatile. Man, that bull thistle sure is popular these days.
Finally, continuing with the nectar sipping theme, I have at long last captured a recognizable image, if just barely, of a hummingbird feeding on the jewelweed growing along the river trail and recently revived by the rain. Our location, the green back, white throat, and white tips on her tail feathers all suggest a female ruby-throated hummingbird (Archilochus colubris).
She visited about a half dozen blossoms as I did my best to aim, zoom, and focus. Sadly, the light was low, and this is the best I’ve managed to do so far. I’ve spotted hummingbirds several times before in the park, but they have usually been zipping through the air at the time, so I’ve captured only one other picture, from back in May, before now.
We’re finally getting the soaking we’ve needed for a while. Plus, the storm is moving southeast, so it should be raining here through 10am, and so no pictures this morning. It’s kinda fun, for me at least, to sit here at the breakfast table, for a change, and watch the lightning and listen to the thunder, but Anne’s bummed about having to skip her sunrise bike ride today.
As luck would have it, though, I was in the park yesterday afternoon and thought I had found us a new butterfly flitting about the middle of the southern soccer field in the blazing sun. It prefered to park with its wings closed, but they weren’t plain white or plain yellow, as we usually see.
When it took off or landed, I could see glimpses of a colorful topside, but it always managed to return to the closed pose before I could line up a shot. It probably moved a dozen times, but never went very far, and never stayed very long. And then it finally relented. Ta da!
Awe, it’s a common buckeye, just like the one we saw by the pond back on June 22, although this one is a little worse for the wear, eh? Oh, that little stinker made me work for it.
Anyway, I read in the Pedia of Wik that buckeye caterpillars commonly feed on broadleaf plantain (Plantago major), a common lawn weed that some of you may know well. In that case you probably recognized the spike of flowers and/or fruits that our rascal is resting on in the first of the three pictures above or the leaves that make up part of the background in the third picture. Maybe it was looking for just the right plantain plant, and I left it on the one it finally selected.
And that’s it, I’m afraid. That’s the whole show for today. I can’t wait to get into the park to see what, if anything, this rain will entice to come out and pose for us, right?
Oof! It was warm, still, and steamy in the park this morning, and I read that 90°F is in our forecast for this afternoon. Unfortunately, yesterday’s rain didn’t amount to much, the paths were still dry this morning under the bigger trees, and the brown-eyed susans looked no less thirsty than before.
The pond was empty of birds, and only the three most-common critters (chipmunks, grey squirrels, and rabbits) were about, but a heron was fishing on the river, a slew of mallards were grazing on the river bottom, and a V of Canada geese flew overhead.
The more-photogenic activity took place yesterday afternoon before the storm rolled in.
So the thistle is a tall and very thorny plant, perhaps the closest thing we have to cactus this far north, covered in bumblebees, an occasional butterfly, and big spider webs full of big spiders and their future meals, and the goldfinch be like “you had me at ‘thistle’.”
My three images attempt to show the most exposed bird bobbing up and down and side to side for another bid on the branch just above it. Oddly, I cannot find a video showing both the song and the dance simultaneously, as I observed this morning. I guess if I had the right equipment, I could be posting some exciting, new, and never-before-seen behavior, eh?
It was a pleasant morning in Estabrook Park. Signs of fall are starting to show, and some are probably being accelerated by the long stretch of dry weather we’ve been having. I’ve seen flocks of Canada geese flying out of the river valley in v-formations, and some of the sumac leaves by the falls are starting to turn red. I’m still waiting for more asters to bloom, which got a nice mention, along with monarchs and the painted lady we just saw yesterday, in the NYT this morning, of all places.
The only critters I saw this morning were chipmunks, rabbits, grey squirrels, and one wood duck on the river. Oh, and a slew of robbins and cabbage white butterflies. The river is lower than I’ve seen it this year, and the jewelweed and even brown-eyed susans are starting to struggle with the lack of water.
I read that “due to its taste, Laetiporus sulphureus has been called the chicken polypore and chicken-of-the-woods (not to be confused with Grifola frondosa, the so-called hen-of-the-woods).
Many people think that the mushroom tastes like crab or lobster leading to the nickname lobster-of-the-woods. The authors of Mushrooms in Color said that the mushroom tastes good sauteed in butter or prepared in a cream sauce served on toast or rice. It is highly regarded in Germany and North America.”
It was a quiet and slow morning in Estabrook today, and it appears that our cormorant has finally moved on from the pond, like the grebe, mergansers, teals, geese, mallards, and herons before it. The only one left there this morning was this single wood duck hen.
The river was full of Canada geese, mallards, and this single heron.
The monarchs and bees were mobbing the bull thistle for its sweet, sweet, nectar.
I read in the Pedia of Wik that it “is one of the most widespread of all butterflies, found on every continent except Antarctica and South America.” Furthermore, across the pond, “it migrates from North Africa and the Mediterranean to Britain and Europe in May and June, and from the Red Sea basin, via Israel and Cyprus, to Turkey in March and April.” And, “after heavy rain produced an abundance of vegetation in the deserts, Southern California saw these butterflies migrating by the millions across the state in March 2019.” Quite the travelers, eh?
Finally, thanks to everyone who has already signed my petition to keep the parkway through Estabrook Park closed to motorized traffic. We’re up to 150+ signatures this morning, and if you’ve been to the park recently, you may have noticed that the parks department did move the northern barricade to the southern edge of the middle parking lot, providing access to the ADA parking spaces near the dog park. Here’s hoping we can help make that the last time they need to move them.
Oh, and before I forget, I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to know that my park beer was nice and tasty last evening, as one would expect, right?
It was another morning in paradise, the cormorant was on the pond, a few birds were chirping, the crickets were singing, and this little guy, who we may have seen before, seemed beside himself with curiosity about me. For all I know, maybe he just wanted to play, and as before, he would approach me cautiously, bobbing his head around, and then scamper away. He repeated that twice before he must have had enough and simply tucked back into the woods as though this happens every day. I sure wouldn’t mind if it did.
The cicadas have been singing less lately, and I’ve been finding them laying on the parkway more frequently, too. Perhaps they are nearing the end of their season.
The other big news of the morning is that I finally scored my first can of park beer! It was hiding in the bushes along the river trail just south of the falls. I figured it was empty as I reached in for it, and you can imagine my surprise when I first felt the weight of it. The date on the bottom says “Aug3120” so it should still good, right? We’ll know soon enough when Miller Time comes around later this afternoon.
Signs of Life in Estabrook Park 
