not in Kansas anymore…

The son of our neighbor currently has 2 baby raccoons that he rescued from a barn. I think this son lives in a different house up near the road either on or adjacent to our neighbor’s 50+ acre property, so technically I guess that makes him our neighbor also, but we had not met him before.  He said that the mama raccoon was caught by the owner of the barn and that the babies were found afterwards. He was called because he has raised baby raccoons before, as in bottle feeding them, letting them in the house, basically treating them like pets. Seriously.

So, our neighbor called us over the other day to see them…

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One animal-loving member of our family had them climbing all over her and the other was more hesitant, not really even touching them, but he did feed them marshmallows. They are cute now because they are babies, but they are still RACCOONS!

Shortly after we moved in, a different neighbor on the other side said to us, “You know what they call this (referring to our township), right?” She answered our confused looks with “Robinson-tucky!” It’s all becoming clear now.

All that comes to mind is: “Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

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Butterflies

Butterflies apparently like purple coneflowers (another post coming soon on these). I was out looking at the flowers the other day and much to my surprise saw one of the most beautiful butterflies I’ve ever seen.

It turns out to be an Eastern tiger swallowtail  (Papilio glaucus). (I’m getting into this scientific name thing, by the way, if you haven’t noticed).  I so wished I would have had one of Steve’s “real” cameras in hand, but at least I had our point and shoot which is actually what I’ve used to take most of the photos on this site so far. I’ve learned to never go outside without a camera of some sort, sometimes it’s the iPhone, which has to be used for something  (besides playing Angry Birds) since there’s zero bars out here!

        

It turns out that the female of this species can morph into a black version of itself to mimic the Pipevine swallowtail butterfly in areas where those are present. I believe this is a self-defense mechanism because I read that the Pipevine is poisonous and that normally the yellow butterfly has many bird predators. They also like to lay their eggs on Sassafrass trees, among others, which we have in abundance (maybe the subject for yet another post).

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I also saw this orange butterfly with black markings and white spots, which I believe to be a Great spangled fritillary (Speyeria cybele). There are many varieties of fritillary, all orange with black and white markings, making it difficult to differentiate sometimes. The caterpillars eat wild violet in the spring, which we have in abundance as well, so hopefully they’ll continue to be around each year.

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I’m used to seeing mostly monarchs where we used to live, so this is an exciting change of pace. In the spring I frequently saw lots of black/irridescent blue butterflies which I haven’t been able to put a name to yet. They were the prettiest before the swallowtail came along!

It’s completely amazing that (generally ugly) caterpillars transform into such graceful and beautiful flyers.

 

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Sounds of the forest: part 3

A couple weeks ago, we started noticing a bunch of holes in the ground around our blueberry bushes and elsewhere. They looked like they had been perfectly bored, like an aerator would make. Then a week ago, I saw this sitting on one of the blueberry branches:

I didn’t think to photograph the holes, but I did promptly tell the rest of the fam about the “huge bug” I had just found. I did not have a clue that this was a cicada or that they live most of their lives underground (sometimes 13 or 17 years in the case of periodical cicadas). It was captured (not by me, I must add), placed in my Cale’s new bug box and brought into the house (which I should be used to since the same sequence of events occurred for the gypsy moth caterpillar seen here). Here it is, photographed by Steve:

I am learning that this one must have just emerged because it hadn’t darkened in color yet. I haven’t determined which species it is because I squirm when looking at too many creepy bug photos. But anyway, this post is supposed to be about sounds. High in the trees we now hear the motor-like buzz, the males attempting to attract a mate. It won’t last long, only a few weeks and then the adult life above ground will have ended.

(And yes, the bug was promptly returned to a tree outside.)

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Sounds of the forest: part 2

(Sounds of the forest: part 1)

Right now, as I start this post (around 11 pm Tuesday night), the windows are open and I am listening to the almost conversational sound of a barred owl (Strix varia)  that we affectionately call “the laughing monkey witch owl.” It remains unseen (hence no photos of my own!), but its voice is heard nearly every day, at all hours of the day and night, a now familiar and unmistakable sound. This creature earned it’s nickname the very first time we’d heard it, a night in March by the fire shortly after moving in. The call is not a simple hoot or anything I would have expected an owl to sound like. Every reference on the barred owl describes the sound as like the owl saying “Who cooks for you?  Who cooks for you?” We’ve noticed it also makes a variety of other sounds, usually when another owl is around, and we’ve even attempted to mimic it, trying to talk to it, and sometimes it seems to call back.

This time the owl is very close, probably just out behind our house and the adventurous adult male in the family wants to go out to look for it in the pitch dark with a flashlight. I do really want to see this thing; I’ve imagined many times the magic of being in the right place at the right time and holding my breath as to not make a sound, but I make excuses about it being too late, and “we’ll get eaten alive,” and “what if the kids wake up?” Reluctantly, I get a hooded sweatshirt and long pants on, but I’ve wasted too much time grumbling and by the time I finally get outside, it has moved to the neighbors’ woods.

Suddenly, I realize this morning, that this is about more than not seeing an owl. It is about my life. It’s about all of the missed opportunities and wasted moments, fleeting chances for something more, something greater, all overcome by fear, apathy, selfishness, disobedience, outright laziness at times, or contentment with merely being a spectator. It’s about the lack of action, this story of my life.

I hope I keep hearing the owl. I have not tired of it yet. I usually smirk at it’s peculiarity, despite sometimes being kept awake at night or abruptly roused from sleep, and am actually a bit relieved each time because it means that the owl is still here. And if the owl is near, then there is still a chance to see it. There is still time to rewrite this story.

Update: Steve has since been able to photograph one of the owls, which I’ll have to add here.

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Balloon flowers

Yet another surprise around here and a new favorite of mine:

Balloon flower (Platycodon grandiflorus).

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7 days

July 1
July 2
July 3

July 4
July 5
July 6
July 7
(July 5 & 6 photos were taken by Steve)

 

Posted in flowers, garden, trees | 3 Comments

Patience

Waiting can be hard

and I check every day,

but all is still green

while patience grows, too.

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Light in the dark

It’s been dark as night all day with lightning cracking,

thunder booming,

hail tapping the windows,

and rain overflowing the gutters,

so I was reminded of this photo from the other day,

bright light streaming through.

 

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What’cha listenin’ to?

So I love music, but I am not a musician. I’m a really-really-wanna-be musician, wishing I would not have quit playing violin sometime around the 6th grade (just because I didn’t like the teacher) or wondering if I could still learn to play piano. Anyway, I if I am not listening to something and reading the liner notes word for word, I might be checking someone’s tour schedule, seeing who has a new album coming out soon, or getting free CDs from JQ99.

While doing the tour checking thing a couple months ago, I found out that Andrew Peterson would be playing not too far from here. He’s a folkish, storytelling sort of singer who was amazing live. It was a rare treat. I have listened to the songs of his latest CD, Counting Stars, countless times. Around the same time, I came across Under the Radar, a radio show “offering gourmet music,” where Andrew was going to be a guest host. They were also having a contest, giving away some Andrew Peterson stuff, which I entered on a whim and had pretty much completely forgotten about when I was notified of this.

Since I already had a copy of the CD and actually the first book (which is currently residing in an unknown box), I decided spontaneously while typing a facebook comment the other day that I would have my own little contest to give away my “old” CD since I will soon have a shiny, autographed version.

It is good timing, since I’d been meaning to unveil this blog sometime soon. What better way than with a contest?

Contest is now over. Thanks to the 3 commenters for playing!

So, of you’d like to have my previously played copy of Counting Stars by Andrew Peterson, just leave a comment answering the question: What’cha been listening to most lately? (as in, what would have the most plays on your music player of choice in the past few months?)

I’ll pick a winner in an as of yet undetermined manner (could be random, could be an answer I really like) at an undetermined time (probably within a few days). 😉

If I can find the book, maybe there will be 2 winners!

 

 

 

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Sounds of the forest: part 1

One of the first things I noticed about living in the woods is that it is not a quiet place. I wouldn’t call it “noisy” though. While it seems to never be silent around here, the sounds of the forest silence me. They cause me to stop and listen, senses tuned in.

One of my favorite sounds here is that of the rain, and just today I heard it again. Millions of droplets hitting millions (billions?) of leaves. Were I a musician I could probably find some term to describe it. All that comes to mind is amplified, or maybe resonating? The leaves like microphones. Maybe the coolest part is when it stops raining. Rain is no longer falling from the sky, but it still rains in the forest. All the droplets still falling down from leaf to leaf.

By the  sound of it, you would swear it was still actually raining. I have walked down the long  driveway (just about the only place besides our house where trees are  not overhead) after the rain has  stopped and was amazed that I was not getting wet. It was not raining, but it was raining.  I am reminded of how I used to sit on my front porch when I was younger, on bright yellow furniture, and listen to the rain without getting wet.

Of course there’s the wind blowing through the trees, too. Sometimes it sounds to me almost like the waves of the Great Lake that is not too far away. Branches always swaying, leaves always shaking, even in the slightest breeze. Always music in the forest.

 

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