Exciting Sighting Today ~ Giant Swallowtail Butterfly

A hot day brings an exciting new sighting of a Giant Swallowtail Papilio cresphontes butterfly. 

It was really a treat to be in the garden with this magnificent creature. 

It is a rare visitor here in Massachusetts.

You can learn more about the Giant Swallowtail butterfly here. 

Waxing and Waning ~ The World Around Us ~ Bluebird Broods

There is plenty of spinning, tilting and turning in our vast universe . . . as our world wobbles its way around the sun and our moon waxes and wanes . . . mirroring that center fiery sphere . . . while it sails along its own path marking our monthly ways. Luminosity of a celestial entity casting softness and shadows over a mostly sleeping landscape is quite calming though connected to lunacy. I am puzzled at how wildlife sleeps through all the brightness and it seems those that are preyed upon are more vulnerable. 

Wandering around the light filled night, I find the gardens, fields and forest mysterious and completely a different feeling from that of the daylight world I know so well. Forms stand out more boldly and imagining the numerous nests within the leafy and sometimes flowering branches . . .  I pause and quietly step between the two realms. I am not alone placidly pacing about the moonlit gardens, however. 

Growls penetrate my peace and they are meant for me . . . not the Wild Turkeys balancing in the hemlock or pines above . . . wings ruffling and rubbing against the boughs. Moving black forms are not shrubberies . . . but coyote and bear step before or after my footprints . . . creating quite a chill. A loud clap and stomp from me continues to send those unwelcome yet thrilling forms furtively further into the deeper darkness.

Just before dawn these days, the waning moon is still casting a milky film across the land from its western departure. Towards the east earlier risers may see the stunning show of Venus and Jupiter rising just before the symphony of birdsong begins. 

Each morning brings renewed sipping and dipping activity about the birdbath, though I have yet to capture the many birds who visit here. I am faithful in cleaning and refreshing the basin each day.

Sunlight casts its own magic. 

While walking about in the daylight hours . . .  the gardens today . . .  along with the Bluebirds busyness caring for their second brood . . . offer entertainment and wonder. The Bluebirds have no difficulty beginning this brood . . . but things were not so peaceful earlier in the spring when they began their first . . . 

What is wrong with this picture?

Tree Swallows do not make much fuss really . . . they tend to choose a nestbox out in the north and south fields to raise their young, but there is always temptation. I never see any real jousting between the two . . . the bluebirds do always win with the Tree Swallows.

There are more serious battles between male Bluebirds and it is hard to determine who is who. I would guess the female knows better. 

Things do calm down in April and the male and female Bluebird become very attentive to their young, always eyeing for the many insects about the shrubs and trees and along the garden floor.

Woe to the caterpillars that will never become moths or butterflies. 

Instead of nibbling, flying, flitting and ferreting about the gardens . . .  copious amounts of insects and arachnids build fine fledglings. These two Bluebirds fledglings stay near their former home. The mother Bluebird is inside the nestbox. 

Off to forage.

The parents have ceased to feed the fledglings and come back to their nest box with an incredible array of fresh morsels for their helpless nestlings.

I can now hear the nestlings crying out when the parents light on the nestbox. I hope this time to see the little ones peeking out from the round window and do marvel at what it must be like for them to see the world for the first time . . . beyond their tiny world within the box. 

First Days of Summer Walkabout

Summer greets Western Massachusetts with a hot soup of humid heat. The rising sun casts a net of sweltering, swelling, sanguine rays piercing skin and leaf alike. 

Spreading landscape's spring green evaporates into a darker coating . . .  void of its former verdant glow. It is a great time for butterflies, except for all the many round eyes and beaks hunting and tearing at their lovely gowns. Catbirds and Phoebes especially are relentless in their pursuit of the many Tiger Swallowtails nectaring on the Tree Lilac and numerous other plants and shrubs in the North and Middle Meadow Gardens. 

Bluebirds are looking forward to a second brood and the female seems somewhat less concerned with my presence in the Middle Meadow Garden. Her gaze is a bit curious of my cutting, pulling and photographing. During the heat wave, she is busy building her new nest. 

Her fledglings are never far away. The first days of summer finally settle into more temperate tones and we enjoy cooler days and nights. The female bluebird is in the nest box sitting with her new eggs, while her fledglings perch patiently on the nestbox. They are a sweet family. It is quite impressive how quickly the fledgelings grow up and become self sufficient.

The parent bluebirds become even busier when the new brood hatch and are constantly bringing the nestlings bits of food harvested in the gardens. 

A new addition to the gardens. A simple metal arbor . . . something to grow on. I love how it nearly disappears into the garden green. Our 'New Dawn' rose took right to it, as did all the birds. They enjoy another perch to eye the gardens for flying, crawling or tunneling food. 

Those first summer hot days pushed flowers to their limits quickly. Japanese iris folds are simply elegant. Walking down into the Lower Garden seeing the apple trees and grasses rebounding there are many birds coming and going from the blueberry fields. Just today I saw a near head-on collision . . . there is so much excitement over the bumper crop of berries. Looking up towards the Rock Maples . . .  a hydrangea holds the light within the lace-like form of blossoms.

Entering the South Field I enjoy the sight and flights of the Tree Swallows. They are a favored and revered bird here for their constant sweeping the sky of biting bugs and their gurgling calls. I shall miss them, as they will be flying off with their fledgelings any day. 

This year the Tree Swallows in both the south and north fields were so tolerant of me and allowed me very close to their nest box . . . yet I did not get any photos of the young ones being fed. This fledgeling is trying to follow her parent back into the nest box. A sibling or two are still inside. Stepping back up towards the Upper Garden . . . wild roses stand just outside the downstairs apartment entrance. 

Phoebe nestlings are about to flee the nest too. It seems a bit crowded. Standing in the downstairs doorway I get a pretty good view. 

It is a privilege to see the gardens grow and these precious birds rear their young, even with all their antics that cause a bit of angst. I so wish they did not dine on butterflies! The birds are all so busy with their fledgelings and I cannot keep up with all that is growing in the gardens and in my other work. I finally found my first Monarch butterfly eggs on the milkweed within the paths. Life is full and it is good to feel strong. I wish as a citizenry we were stronger in our opposition to the outrageous injustices unfolding everyday. We are but stewards for the future and what will we be leaving them. 

Orange Unfurling Oriental Poppies and Baltimore Oriole

An ongoing cycle of life . . . contracting and expanding . . . continues to unfold in the gardens, fields and forest here at Flower Hill Farm. 

Flower buds swell . . . casting off their protective outer calyxes, just as nestlings grow . . . filling fledgling forms and seeing an exciting and dangerous world beyond the carefully woven nests of their parents.

Precious and fleeting life . . . not so unlike these tiny droplets . . . clinging to what they are attached to.

Outer casings give . . .  along finely, engraved cracks . . . yielding to a swollen force of will. A poppy plants burgeoning blossom no longer can exist within the confines of contraction . . . expanding from within . . . out towards light and fulfillment of life.

Paper-like petals neatly folded opening to first shafts of sunlight. 

Warm sunrays will iron wrinkled flower leaves smooth. 

Luscious reddish-yellows glow . . .  a corolla afire opens to reveal contractions deeper within. 

Spider-like landing pads lure needed pollinators. 

Spreading wings . . .  free to fly into compliments of green. 

The only other orange in the gardens right now are the beloved Baltimore Orioles. A protective father perches just over his nestlings.

Partnership in parenting is helpful to the female and nestlings alike. The male stands guard while the female forages for food. 

One little caterpillar, who will never expand into mosaic wings, is about to become part Baltimore Oriole. 

I believe the former nestlings have become fledglings . . . here the mother is searching for her young. 

Papa looks on as his progeny expand into their own. 

Now the remarkably woven nest is empty . . . the male Baltimore Oriole has more time for preening.  

I can see the nest, from where I sit writing, and do miss the comings and goings of the parents, as well as the chirping sounds of the young. I still see the father . . . somehow, he seems lost as he flies about the branches and calls out for his mate, when he is not preening that is. Yesterday I watched and photographed him fluffing his feathers for over fifteen minutes. I do hope he is not bothered by lice.  

The lovely tonal trills the male sings out are not as numerous now. I have not seen or heard the calls of the female this morning and do hope all is well with her and the little fledglings. 

Flowers bloom and fade and I do regret the absence of their fragrance and ephemeral beauty. I find I feel a larger loss with the flight of fledglings, while, of course, I am elated that new life comes into being and flourishes within the gardens and land I steward. 

This year I am given the rare joy of seeing a bluebird fledgling grow day by day. While her mother sits on new eggs within the nest box I cleaned, the fledgling waits patiently nearby. I can see her foraging on her own too. It is amazing how quickly birds become self-sufficient. The father bluebird spends time with his immature offspring and is attentive to his mate . . . bringing her bits of food to sustain her during the gestation of their new brood. They are a devoted family.

I think I just saw a flash of female Baltimore Oriole. I shall go out and explore and give you an update soon. The father's presence near the nest gives me reason to think the female and fledglings are nearby. 

Wishing a Happy Father's Day to all Papas . . . especially to L & J.