Our top story today is that Anne took me out to the south parking lot of Estabrook Park to see the Neowise comet last evening, and we found it pretty easily with the help of some binoculars, right below the big dipper as advertised. That’s the first time I’ve seen the tail of a comet with my own eyes, and I highly recommend it.

Meanwhile, this morning in the park, there was a sole wood duck hen on the pond but no duckling, and we all hope against hope that the duckling was just elsewhere, right? And ha! Check out the frog photobombing our picture that I only just now noticed.

The family of mallards with the one yellow duckling were on the oxbow pond by the river, and that yellow one really seems to like staying in the water long after mom and the four siblings have hit the weeds. It will be fascinating to see what it gets for adult coloration, eh?

The indigo bunting (Passerina cyanea), in the wildflower meadow by the river, is perhaps becoming less annoyed by my presence.

A tiny, bright green inchworm was checking out what looks to be an eastern purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) on the steep slope from the beer garden down to the river.

A bumblebee was hard at work on the newly opened blossom of what appears to be a spear thistle, bull thistle, or common thistle (Cirsium vulgare), “the national flower of Scotland.”

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A cabbage white (Pieris rapae) was taking its time with a common dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) blossom.

Finally, some bald-faced hornets (Dolichovespula maculata) are expanding a nest in the little fruit tree on the northeast lawn of the pond. Sorry, but I’m not getting any closer.

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And that rounds out today’s top stories. I wonder what tomorrow will bring.

It’s another hot and humid day in the park. The sky keeps threatening, but the rain has left the Farmers market alone for now.

The ducks are taking the day off, and the painted turtles (Chrysemys picta) seem to be in no mood.

The tiger lilies, aka tawny lily (Hemerocallis fulva) are open along the west edge of the police station parking lot, which is close enough to the park, eh? One has attracted, what appears to be, a young, hence the very short wing stubs, curve-tailed bush katydid (Scudderia curvicauda). The lilies are invasive, but dang, those colors, am I right?

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The native self-heal (Prunella vulgaris) has attracted what appears to be a white spring moth (Lomographa vestaliata), and the wild bergamot, aka bee balm (Monarda fistulosa), which is also native and blooming like crazy along the Oak Leaf trail, has attracted a fast-moving snowberry clearwing moth (Hemaris diffinis).

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A young blue jay (Cyanocitta cristata) is busy alternating between crying to be fed and tasting everything in sight to see what might be good to eat.

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Finally, a young robin (Turdus migratorius) has found some relief from the heat.

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Stay cool out there.

First things first, since I know you’re worried, all the ducklings looked hale and hearty this morning: the single wood duck on the pond, two broods of five mallards each on the oxbow pond, and one brood of two older mallards on the river south of the falls.

The wood duck hen even snagged another frog! I’ve been watching the wood ducks on the pond since March, and man, she sure had me fooled.

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Once again, the younger brood of five seemed skittish, heading for the hills as soon as they see me, and the slightly older brood with one yellow duckling seemed to like posing for the camera.

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Also looking fine this morning was our old friend, the great blue heron. After I startled him twice (by accident!) as I just walked along the river trail, he finally moved to the far side of the river, where he seemed able to ignore me and concentrate on his fishing.

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Even the little sandpiper was out and running around on the far riverbank.

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There’s a funky-looking new mushroom growing out of the side of a tree on the riverbank. Apparently, this is what dryad’s saddle, aka pheasant’s back (Cerioporus squamosus) looks like when it is young, tender, and “in the “pig nose” stage.”

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Finally this splendid common toadflax, yellow toadflax, or butter-and-eggs (Linaria vulgaris) is blossoming at the top of the wall beside the falls. I read that “because the flower is largely closed by its underlip, pollination requires strong insects such as bees and bumblebees.” They are in the same family, plantain (Plantaginaceae), as snapdragons (Antirrhinum), but the Linaria genus is distinct and commonly called toadflax instead.

And there you have it. It’s supposed to be a scorcher out there today in the upper Midwest so be forewarned if you venture out. The humidity is high, and the sky is even hazy, so I feel like a kid again enjoying the classic “hazy, hot, and humid” from my youth in Ol’ Conn.

I am thrilled to report that the wood duck hen and her duckling continue to look like they are thriving on the pond. I saw them both yesterday afternoon and again this morning, and both times, mom repeated her trick of snagging something nutritious right out of the water. The entré in the image below appears to be fish, maybe bluegill. The Pedia of Wik claims “they mainly eat berries, acorns, and seeds, but also insects, making them omnivores,” but it appears an update may be warranted, eh?

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Meanwhile, the river continues to provide new surprises, at least to me. Below are a mallard with her two, quite grown-looking ducklings taking a break on a sunny afternoon and a painted turtle sporting much less algae than the one we saw Sunday.

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The plant world is also keeping up its pace with new blossoms from what appears from afar to be swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata), a native on the river bank, and lesser burdock (Arctium minus), which is not native, unfortunately, but at least its “leaves, leafstalks, roots and flower stalks are all edible when prepared correctly.”

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Another invasive species in North America, I am sad to report is the magnificent cutleaf teasel (Dipsacus laciniatus), “that may grow up to two to three meters” tall, and “rain water can collect in the cup-like receptacles that form where sessile leaves join the stem; this structure may perform the function of preventing sap-sucking insects such as aphids from climbing the stem. A 2011 experiment has shown that adding dead insects to these cups increases the seedset of teasels (but not their height), implying partial carnivory.” Yikes!

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Finally, it’s time for the reader photo of the week, sent in by my very own sister, Deb, who spotted a pair of swans, probably mute swans (Cygnus olor) given their location, with their four cygnets on a reservoir in Connecticut. Deb used the fancy term cygnets because she is in fact a trained, licensed, and practicing veterinarian, whereas I merely play a naturalist on the interwebs. I read that “the mute swan is one of the heaviest flying birds,” and “one unusually big Polish cob weighed almost 23 kg (51 lb) and this counts as the largest weight ever verified for a flying bird.” Also, “the white cygnets have a leucistic gene.” So there.

And that’s all I’ve got for you today. Be sure to tune in tomorrow for the next exciting episode of Signs of Life in Estabrook Park!

It’s a banner day on the pond, boys and girls, so let’s get right to the main event!

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That’s right! Mrs. Wood Duck has a duckling, and it appeared quite energetic this morning. I read that “they usually nest in cavities in trees close to water, although they will take advantage of nesting boxes,” and I would be fascinated to know just where she managed to pulled this off right under our noses. That makes our third hatching, if you’ve been counting: first the goslings at the end of April, then the mallards at the beginning of June, and now wood ducks in July.

But wait. There’s more!

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Yup, Mrs. Wood Duck also eats frogs, a behavior that I have not witnessed until this morning. In fact, she was heading for cover with her duckling when she stopped to grab this little bite, and it took her quite a while to choke the hapless critter down. The duckling occupied itself by tasting everything in sight while mom was busy.

Will wonders never cease? Just when you think you know somebody, they go and surprise the heck out of you, right?

Meanwhile, down on the oxbow pond by the river, the mallard ducklings have gotten so used to me that when I startled them from their nap by accident, they merely paddled about 10 feet away and fell right back to sleep!

I’m beginning to think that looking harmless may be my superpower, and man-o-man, I sure felt like I needed a superpower yesterday afternoon. I was just walking along the river trail when I encountered another giant ichneumon wasp (Megarhyssa atrata), and this one was quite alive! After I chased down my skin and climbed back inside, I tried to get a picture, I really did, but there’s something about a wasp that looks like it’s sporting a cardiac needle that dissuaded me from getting close enough.

Another thrilling aerial performance was going on over the falls when I arrived: a squadron of cedar waxwings was flying sorties out over the water catching bugs. At first I thought they were swallows, of whom I’d love to get a picture, but that was not the case. These meager images don’t do the scene justice, of course, but you can just make out the bright yellow band at the tip of their tail feathers, and their display was much more brilliant when in flight.

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Finally, in keeping with this morning’s bird theme, this little house wren was belting out his tune by the wren house at the south end of the pond. If this were a Disney movie, he’d be announcing the debut of the heir to the throne of the pond.

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And there you have it. Wonders simply will not cease.

I finally got that nice shot of an indigo bunting (Passerina cyanea) I’ve been after for months. He was by the canoe/kayak launch and pretty high up, so still not super crisp, but you can see the little glint of his eye, which suggests that he’s at least in focus. Even the background isn’t too bad.

Best of all, he was giving singing lessons: 1. stretch, 2. puff up your chest, 3. let ‘er rip!

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Speaking of the boat launch, I startled yet another family of mallards there yesterday afternoon, and they booked it out across the river before I could explain that I’m harmless. The trip looked a bit arduous for the little ones, just as it did for the goslings months ago.

While I was keeping an eye on their progress, I spotted the sandpiper across the river again. Best or worst of all, while I was there watching the birds, a small dark brown varmint trotted across the boat launch almost over my toes. If I had to guess between a stoat, mink, or muskrat, I’d go with mink (Neovison vison) because I didn’t see any of the white fur that a stoat sports, and it looked slimmer and sleeker than a muskrat.

Anyway, that new mallard family, or its spittin’ image, was at the oxbow pond this morning, and as soon as the little ones spotted me, they booked it for the river again, as you can see in the blurry image below (top/left). Even wilder, though, the family with the one yellow duckling, which we’ve seen many times now, were already at the river (center), and they headed straight towards me once they saw me, like we were old buddies, while the first family looked on in disbelief from a safe distance (bottom/right). It sure was a hoot to watch, though, with lots of waddling.

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Meanwhile, there are also several new blossoms in the park that I simply can’t identify. The first (top/left) looks like either a phlox or a catchfly, but I can’t tell which. The other two are complete mysteries. Can anyone help me out? (See comments below for some fantastic suggestions already!)

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Finally, you may be as stunned to learn as I am that there are two different tree-like sumac species in the park: smooth sumac or white sumac (Rhus glabra), which had white blossoms, bloomed first, and is done blooming now; and staghorn sumac (Rhus typhina), which has red blossoms, bloomed second, and is still in bloom. Good thing is that neither are poisonous, right?

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Well, it’s time to quit playing with this and go pay my taxes. I’d better not put it off another day, eh?

There were Canada geese on the pond this morning, which we haven’t seen in weeks, but I’ll spare you one more goose picture, and let’s start with some of the other familiar faces.

From the animal kingdom, the mallard family with the one yellow duckling continues to hang out in the oxbow pond beside the river, and all appear to be healthy (top/left). Meanwhile, the baby catfish (kittenfish as my old buddy Mark Purdy recently quipped) can still be found, wiggling vigorously, both in the pond and in the stream on the way to the river (bottom/right).

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Yesterday afternoon I spotted on the river what might be the biggest bullfrog I’ve ever seen (top/left). I read they can grow to weigh a pound or more, and I’d be stunned if this one hasn’t already done that. Jabba the Hutt would be proud. For comparison, the little guy beside him (bottom/right) was perched on a leaf in the pond.

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Okay, okay, on to the new arrivals, and we’ve been waiting over a week for the first one (top/left), a cicada, ever since we first heard his song! Well, actually, that’s just the empty exuviae, what the ancient Latins called “the remains of an exoskeleton and related structures that are left after” molting. Maybe someday I’ll find one still inside its skin, eh?

Next (bottom/right) is a striking Leconte’s haploa moth (Haploa lecontei) that really preferred hanging out on the bottom side of leaves, but indulged us just long enough for this mediocre shot. Why couldn’t it be nice and sit still like the cicada?

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Also a little flighty, I believe we have a ruby meadowhawk dragonfly (Sympetrum rubicundulum) (top/left) striking a pose, and some handsome damselfly (bottom/right), probably a dancer, based on the shape of its wings and the way it’s holding them, but I can’t for the life of me find an image online of one with such a luxurious bronze color. Maybe that’s just an artifact of the bright sun and my camera.

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In the plant kingdom, goldenrod is beginning to open (top/left), and I read that “if you see a goldenrod blooming in July,” it’s early goldenrod (Solidago juncea). Motherwort or lion’s tail (Leonurus cardiaca) has been blossoming for a week or so (bottom/left), and herbalists once thought it “useful for removing melancholy vapors from the heart, improving cheerfulness, and settling the wombs of mothers,” not to mention “protect[ing] against evil spirits.”

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Finally, in the fungi kingdom, this amazing-looking mushroom might be a young “white-pored version” of chicken of the woods (Laetiporus sulphureus), but don’t trust me with your life on that. You’re better off with the Motherwort.

Auf wiedersehen!

With the Farmers Market, Beer Garden, and beautiful weather added to the usual Sunday crowd, I tried the find the quietest spots I could, which tend to be along the river, and this is the oddball cast of characters I found there.

First up is a young blue jay (Cyanocitta cristata), old enough to fly, but still pleading to be fed, with incessant diminutive calls and little wing flutters. Really, that’s the cutest age, right? At least he was too busy to elude my camera as well as his elders have managed to do all summer.

Next up are a couple of surprises for me in the river, a painted turtle (Chrysemys picta) northern map turtle (Graptemys geographica), which I originally and mistakenly thought was a painted turtle, sporting a fine algae patina, plus a tadpole, probably an American bullfrog (Lithobates catesbeianus) judging by its size, who’s already grown hind legs. We’ve seen both in the pond, of course, but I wouldn’t have expected to find either one in the river. Live and learn, we hope.

This next pair take us back a bit, to the Middle Devonian age, about 385,000,000 years ago. They are brachiopod fossils imbedded in the argillaceous dolostone of the Milwaukee Formation, laid down when the future midwest was under a shallow sea. I had to step off the path to let a group pass, and as I waited, these were just staring me in the face, as patient as can be. Yup, we’ve even got fossils in Estabrook Park.

A little less patient were these two, an eastern tiger swallowtail (Papilio glaucus), who appears to have seen better days (insert joke here about someone swallowing its tail), and an unassuming little moth who appears to be a gray spring moth (Lomographa glomeraria).

Speaking of impatient, get a load of this bunch of damselflies all trying to mate on the same little scrap of grass floating on the river, and based on their color and location, I’m gonna go with river bluet (Enallagma anna). On the other hand, the BugLady asserts that this behavior, an “oviposition aggregation”, suggests powdered dancers (Argia moesta).

Lastly, we’ve got this little cutie, and based on the pictures, my guess is (common) pill-bug (Armadillidium vulgare), especially given “restricted to calcareous soils or coastal areas” after what we just learned about the Milwaukee Formation. I read that pill-bugs are crustaceans, not insects, they breathe through gills, and many other fascinating tidbits.

Further, there are trilobite fossils in the Milwaukee Formation, and pillbugs are among the closest living relatives. Heck, there are even pill-bug fossils for sale! The more I dig, the deeper it gets.

Anyway, that’s the weekend round up, and who knows what the new week will bring, eh?

I found our Mrs. Wood Duck down on the river yesterday afternoon, instead of up on the pond where we just saw her last, and it appeared that she had some youngins with her, but they quickly got and stayed out of sight. I didn’t see them this morning, but I’ll keep my eyes peeled. Here she is demonstrating her ability to perch in trees, and I read that hers is the only North American duck species that have the long toes with claws necessary to do so. I’ve spotted them in trees by the pond before, but never managed to get a shot till now.

She’s not the only one to follow the Canada geese and the mallards to the river, either. Here’s a bunch of our baby catfish that probably ventured too close to the pond drain, and they seem to enjoy wiggling around in the stream just as much as they did in the pond.

They’re not even the only tiny fish in the stream, which is narrow enough in spots to step over without getting your feet wet. Here are a couple more diminutive creek dwellers, probably creek chub (Semotilus atromaculatus), in about just an inch or two of water. Man, even that little stream is full of life.

Also down by the river are more jewelweed, but in yellow instead of the orange we saw yesterday. This yellow jewelweed or pale jewelweed (Impatiens pallida) can grow right beside the closely-related orange jewelweed (Impatiens capensis) and has a slightly larger blossom. We’ll have to check and see which species is better at launching its seeds, eh?

Speaking of blossoms, here are two more that I’ve spotted recently. From left/top to right/bottom, we’ve got purple loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria), growing by the river, listed as “a restricted invasive species” by the DNR, and which I should probably pull up the next time I see it 🙁; and some variety of mint, based on the aroma from a crushed leaf, maybe horse mint (Mentha longifolia) growing right beside the falls.

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Meanwhile, back by the pond, we’ve got either new dragonflies emerging, or dragonflies that I simply haven’t managed to capture until now. They are, from top/left to bottom/right a male and a female widow skimmer (Libellula luctuosa), which the BugLady describes as “exquisite” and her favorite “King Skimmers.”

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Lastly, after all the deer, rabbit, muskrat, chipmunk, and even red squirrel pictures lately, this little eastern gray squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis) must have been feeling left out, he was posing so well, so here’s his picture, too.

Well, that’s a wrap for today, and I’ll catch y’all on the flip side.

What? Which three Bs are you thinking of?

First the birds. Now that the thistles are going to seed, the goldfinches are starting to be all over them.

The young brown-headed cowbirds (Molothrus ater), whose eggs were laid in the nests of other species, appear to be now getting out on their own and somehow learning to socialize with other cowbirds. Below, from left/top to right/bottom, is one that clearly looks smaller and fresher than the others, one calling to her pal, and then the two of them gettin’ right to work rustlin’ up some breakfast.

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The mallard ducklings keep on growing under their mom’s watchful eye along the river. You may recall we met this brood of five, one of which is inexplicably yellow, a couple of weeks ago.

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Finally, one female wood duck visited the pond again and took a lap around the island. I wonder what she’s looking for.

Onto the bugs, and first up is this master of disguise, maybe a “mid-instar with small wing pads” of the narrow-winged sand grasshopper (Melanoplus angustipennis), blending into the rough concrete at the kayak/canoe launch at the north end of the meadow.

Next is this astounding giant ichneumon wasp (Megarhyssa atrata), who had sadly met her demise before I found her. I put a dime, which I found in the parking lot a little earlier, into the picture to give you some sense of scale. She is huge, but that’s not a stinger, it’s her ovipositor, which she uses to “lay eggs into the hard wood of tree trunks.” Fantastical, right?

Finally, some new blossoms are beginning to open up. From left/top to right/bottom, we’ve got wild bergamot or bee balm (Monarda fistulosa) just off the path north of the beer garden. Only a little further up the path is some orange jewelweed, common jewelweed, spotted jewelweed, or touch-me-not (Impatiens capensis), which earns that last common name because “the seed pods have five valves which coil back rapidly to eject the seeds in a process called explosive dehiscence, [and] in mature seed pods, dehiscence can easily be triggered with a light touch.

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Well, there you have it, boys and girls. Just another summer day in Estabrook Park brimming with amazing sights to see. Don’t forget that tomorrow is the Shorewood Farmers Market, and maybe I’ll see you there.