New Meaning

          I had much better luck this week in identifying the new and interesting things I find to photograph for you.

          This is a small flower called Northern Willowherb. As far as I can tell, it's not good for anything except maybe the bugs like it. We just consider it a weed.

          Bee Balm! This wildflower used to grow beside the road down at the State Game Lands but I haven't seen it there in a few years. On a recent ride-about, I found a patch growing beside the road. 

           All the above ground parts are edible and can be used as a potherb or to flavor something else. The flowers can make an edible garnish in salads. The leaves are used as an antiseptic, diuretic, and stimulant. On the inside, it's used to treat colds, headaches, to reduce low fevers, and soothe sore throats. On the outside it's used for sores and infections.

          Phlox.

          Besides finding wildflowers, I took a few other pics for you.

          Several times through the week we had some awesome clouds so I took cloud pictures for you. Want to see them all at once? 

          This one, and the next, were taken on the same day.

          "Peg, did your clothes get wet?" you ask?

          No. No, they didn't. I took the lighter stuff off the line when we saw the clouds gathering and getting darker. Since the rest of it wasn't dry an extra rinse wouldn't hurt them any so I left them. The clouds blew on by and we didn't get any rain from them.

          I haven't shown you any train graffiti in a while. Although, I have to tell you, there are train graffiti pictures sitting in the Just Pictures file waiting to be posted.

          On Monday we had this big guy move into our neighborhood!

           "That's a big hoe," Mike said.

          I need something for perspective."

          "Want me to go stand by it?" he volunteered.

          "Would ya?" And he did.

          We were on the golf cart at the time and drove past our place on a little ride-about. I thought the light shining on the Robinson's barn while we were in the shade of the trees was interesting. You can barely make out the old machine shed there on the left.

          That evening, as we sat in our chairs doing a puzzle on my iPad, Mike felt something crawling on him. After the third time pulling up his hand and checking he finally found this guy.

          "What is that?" he asked holding his hand out to me.

          "I don't know." I took the bug, took his picture, and released him back into the wild.

          I suspected this was a nymph. That means he doesn't look like what he'll look like when he's all grown up and that makes identifying him a challenge. I thought he might be an assassin bug but couldn't find anything that looked like him. Then I thought he might be a stinkbug, but again, I struck out. Persistence (and changing the keyword) finally paid off though. This guy is a Helmeted Squash Bug nymph. Here's what he'll look like when he's an adult. (Picture from the internet)

          Squash bugs are common in gardens and feed on pumpkins, squash, and melons. They can lay up to 40 eggs at a time on the underside of leaves and stems and develop from egg to adult in 4-6 weeks. They are not in the assassin bug family, as I already figured out on my own; they are in the Coreidae family, the Leaf Footed Bugs.

          Now you know more about the Helmeted Squash Bug than you ever wanted to know. You're welcome.

          Having heavy equipment move into the neighborhood has given our life new meaning. It looks like they are getting ready to replace our bridge so I already know we'll be spending hours sitting on the golf cart watching them work. I wasn't surprised when, the next day, Mike said, "You want to go for a ride?"

          That's code for, Let's go see if anything's happening at the bridge.    

          I wasn't doing anything special so I got my camera and Ginger and we got on the golf cart. I wasn't a bit surprised to see us head for the bridge. Nothing had changed since we were there the day before but as we went to turn around and head home, Mike's buddy Vernon came down the road and stopped to chat.

          I snapped a picture.

          "You and that bleep bleep camera!" Vernon was exasperated.

          "I know, right!" I commiserated.

          I was listening to Mike and Vernon bullshit each other when Ginger became agitated. She jumped into my lap as this huge fly buzzed past. She doesn't like flies and bees and things that sting and bite. Can't say as I blame her any.

          This is a Horsefly, as you may have guessed. They belong to the world's largest true fly family. The males eat pollen and nectar while the females suck blood from large animals like — oh I know you know! — like horses! If you looked at the mouthparts under a microscope you'd see they look like jagged saw blades. That's why the bite is so painful. They actually cut a hole in the skin. The bite can become itchy and swollen and infected. Like most flies, these babies can carry diseases like anthrax and tularemia.

          These kinds of flies are also called gadflies, zimbs, or clegs. In Australia, they're called March Flies and in Canada they're called Bull Dog Flies. There are 3,000 species of horseflies around the world of which about 350 are found in North America.

          Again, you're welcome.

          Ginger, in the meantime, is having a fit about this fly. She jumps from my lap to the floor of the golf cart and right down to the ground. I didn't think she'd go far but boy was I wrong. I watched in disbelief as she went around Vernon's truck, and headed for the bridge.

          I interrupted Mike's conversation with Vernon by patting his back to get his attention. "Mike! She's going home! Ginger's going home!"

          Ginger never slowed as she got on the wide metal plate on the side of the bridge but did slow when she came to the much narrower middle section.

          "Well go get her!" Vernon sounded concerned.

          "I can't! I don't have any shoes on!" I exclaimed and held my bare foot up.

          Mike got off the golf cart and stood beside Vernon's truck. "Take the cart and get her."

          I slid behind the wheel, circled Vernon's truck, crossed the bridge, and caught up to Ginger as she was heading to the Kipp's front door. "They can't save you!" I told her. "They're not home. Now come here. Load up!"

          She had to squat before she obeyed but obey she did. She trotted down and jumped back onto the golf cart and we went back to Mike.

          It wasn't long until I saw this guy land on Vernon's tire. "What is that?" I said and picked my way across the stones to take a picture.

          Ginger, still freaked out because of the Horsefly, really wasn't happy about this visitor either.

          "What is it?"

          I knew you'd ask. This one is called a Tiger Bee Fly and he's a true fly. Although about the size of the Horsefly, the adults eat pollen and nectar. The babies are another matter entirely! The female TBF lays her egg in the nest with Carpenter Bee eggs. The TBF hatches and eats the Carpenter Bee babies before they can mature enough to escape.

          The critter world can often seem cruel.

           Ginger had had enough. She wanted to get out of there and wouldn't settle down. I couldn't turn loose of her or she'd take off for home again.

          As we head across the bridge I snap this picture. "Mike, did you see the baby back there?"

          "What baby?"

          "Leaning against the bridge."

          Mike whipped a uey and we went back.

          "What is it?" I asked.

          "I don't know. You want it?"

          I did. "You think it's okay?"

          "Yeah. I think someone found it and propped it up there for anyone to take."

          A little ways up the road, I see a whole bunch of fluttering going on. "What is that?!"

          "I don't know," Mike answered.

          As we got closer I could see what it was. It was a butterfly on a Bull Thistle and I was excited! "I've never seen one like that before!" I said as I snapped away.

          This guy wasn't too hard to identify because even though his wings are beat up pretty bad I could still see the 'swallows' on his tail.

          This is a Giant Swallowtail. They're the largest butterfly in North America and range in size between five and a half to almost seven and a half inches.

          Just before we pulled in our driveway we get another visitor! "That's a Robber Fly!" I recognize these guys.

          Robber Flies are another true fly...

          "Waitwaitwait, Peg. Now wait just a minute! This is the third time you've told us something is a 'true fly'. What exactly does that mean?"

          True flies possess a pair of flight wings on the mesothorax (the middle part of their body) and a pair of halteres.

          "Peg!"

          Okay! Halteres are a club-shaped organ that operates like gyroscopes. It helps to correct position and provides rapid feedback to the wing-steering muscles. Does that clear it up any for you?

          Robber Flies can be up to two inches in length and have a hunched back and slender abdomen. They are impressive predators that catch their prey in flight. They specialize in flying insects like wasps, bees, and dragonflies.

          With all the Goldenrod blooming it would've been easy for me to overlook these — and this is the first time I've ever seen this wildflower. This is Tansy also called Bitter Buttons, Cow Bitter, or Golden Buttons. The scent is similar to camphor with a hint of rosemary.

          Like most wildflowers, this one has a long list of uses, but did you know it was packed into coffins, wrapped in funeral winding sheets, and made into wreaths and placed with the dead? It was used so much that people began to disdain it because of its morbid association with death.

          During the colonial period, they rubbed meat with it to repel insects and delay spoilage.

          Nowadays we have refrigeration and freezers and we don't need to know this stuff.

          I used to have this one growing in my yard before Mike started mowing as much as he mows now. This is a Musk Mallow wildflower and I found it growing down by our little single-lane open-grate bridge that we're going to soon lose.

          You can eat the leaves, flowers, and the seeds of this wildflower.

          "The bridge, Peg? You were at the bridge again?"

          I know, right! Mike heard some banging and clanking goin' on so he came and got me and we jumped on the golf cart and went back down to the bridge.

          Two guys were working, a third one sitting and watching. One was operating the backhoe, lifting things that this guy banged into place on the crane. 

           Once they had that done Backhoe Dude jumped down and moved a truck out of the way. The other dude climbed up in the crane.

          Mike caught Backhoe Dude as he was coming back and asked, "What's he doing?"

          "He's extending the tracks. See? They're moving out. We can't haul it with the tracks out, it's too wide."

          Once the tracks were extended, Crane Dude backed the crane up. Me being me was fascinated with the hills left by the tracks. 

           The tie-downs on the trailer. Can you see the little butterfly I caught in this shot?

          

          I can't be sure but I think it's a little Pearl Crescent.

          I took pictures of the cables...                                                                           

      

 ...and pulleys on the crane...

...while Mike watched Crane Dude climb on the crane and pull pins. 

Then he had to actually lie down to get the pin out.

          Back Hoe Dude got back in the red truck and pulled it up.

          "What's he doing?" I asked.

          "He's going to hook the trailer up and get it out of the way so that other guy can bring the truck with the counterweights in," Mike answered.

          I watched as he backed up and wondered out loud, "How can he do that without his wife helping him?" Mike has me help him with everything!

          Mike laughed. "I don't know."

          But he nailed it.

          Third Guy walked past us on his way to his truck. He wasn't part of the team working on the equipment, he was just hired to bring the weights in.

          They hooked the weights up...

and as soon as they were clear of the truck, Third Guy pulled the trailer out and left.

          As they were moving the equipment around I saw a thing on the side of the crane.

          "What is that for?"

          "It's a scale to tell him how much weight is on the crane." Mike knows lots of stuff.

          Crane Dude and Backhoe Dude had a little pow-wow that included a bunch of hand gestures. Mike is fluid in hand gestures. "I think they're going to turn the truck around so they can leave," Mike said and put the golf car in gear. We retreated to the other side of the bridge where we could watch and be out of the way.

          Backhoe Dude pulled the truck up to the bridge and Crane Dude walked the crane over. "Maybe they're going to use the crane to pull the trailer around," I guessed but only because I saw the tow truck drivers do something similar when they were getting a semi-trailer unstuck from our bridge.

          As we watched it became clear what they were doing. "They're picking up the extra axles," Mike said. "See how it folds up on top?"

          "How would they do it if they didn't have a crane there to pick 'em up?" I wondered.

          "They probably don't take that trailer out unless they're taking the crane some place," Mike guessed.

          Once the axles were up and secured, Backhoe Dude pulled the truck up on the bridge, backed the trailer in beside the crane, then left. Mike uncrossed his arms, made sure the cart was in go-forward gear, and we buzzed across the bridge.

          Crane Dude saw Mike coming and walked over to join him. I caught snippets of their conversation as I watched from my seat.

          After a ten or fifteen minute conversation, Mike comes back and gives me the lowdown. "He's from down near Harrisburg. These guys are only mechanics, they're not the operators. He said they'll be back and finish putting the crane together when they're ready to work on the bridge."

          We sat there and watched as Crane Dude locked up the equipment and headed for his truck. "Why don't you give him a ride?" I asked.

          Mike pulled up to him. "You want a ride back to your truck?"

          "Sure."

          I gave up my seat to him, sitting on the higher and much less comfortable back seat. We chatted as we took him to his truck, which was parked out of the way quite a ways up the road.

          "What will they do with the old bridge?" I asked.

          "Likely cut it up and sell it for scrap."

          "Do you think there's any chance we can get a piece of it for a souvenir?"

          He grinned. "I don't know. You can ask. I do know that the guy who owns this land made a deal for some or all of the bridge in exchange for letting them use his land."

          Interesting.

          On the way home I had Mike stop at another bunch of wildflowers I've been meaning to stop and photograph. 

           Near as I can figure, this is called Cutleaf Coneflower. Other names for this wildflower are Goldenglow, Thimbleweed, and Green-headed Coneflower. It's in the aster family. The young leaves can be used as a potherb.

          And this one has a couple of names too!

           The Blue Cardinal Flower or Great Lobelia. In homeopathy it's used for dropsy, diarrhea, syphilis, and dysentery.

          

          I visited my honeydew covered Milkweeds several times this week. This ladybug saw me coming and ran away. Can you imagine what we must look like to these tiny bugs! Worse than Goliath looked to David. I'm well aware that under the hard shell, called the elytra, he has wings but he didn't fly away as I picked him up to take his picture.

           Then I let him go back to the Milkweed. Go eat those aphids!

  

       

          Then I found this guy. I Googled him but didn't identify him. On the very first page of my search, my Helmeted Squash Bug nymph came up. All the time I spent searching for that one seems wasted now. I'm pretty sure this guy's a nymph too and I'm pretty sure he's feasting on a ladybug nymph. And that explains why I saw a withered up ladybug nymph hanging on another leaf.

          It's a bug eat bug world out there.

          "How's your Monarch doing?"

          I'm so glad you asked! I have a Monarch! I went to put fresh food in for my caterpillars and found my Monarch had emerged from his chrysalis!

          I reached in and gently lifted him out. He sat on my hand and opened his beautiful wings. I marveled at his newness, at the freshness and vibrancy of his colors. I lifted my camera to get a shot and he took flight. I watched as he sank and rose, tottered left and right. I thought he might land but just before he'd touch down he'd flap his wings again and gain altitude. By the time I thought to take a picture of his maiden flight, he was already too far away.

          And now I have an empty chrysalis.

          I still have three more hungry caterpillars to feed and Mike takes me out on the golf cart to get fresh leaves for them. We were doing just that when I heard such a rushing noise. Oh my stars! It reminded me of the sound the creek makes when we've had A LOT of rain, but maybe it was the rumble of a far away truck.

          I was getting off the cart to snip a Milkweed top and it seemed louder. "What is that?"

          "It's just the wind blowing the trees around," Mike guessed. Then, "No it's not! It's the rain and I can see it coming!"

          I looked up and could see the edge of the rain too. I jumped back on and we took off. We hadn't gone far when the rain caught us.

           I squeezed as far to the inside as I could get but was still getting wet and I laughed and laughed. I pressed right up against Mike, shielding my camera from the rain, and pushing him further out into the rain.

          "MOVE OVER!" he shouted above the roar of the pounding rain. "YOU AIN'T GONNA MELT!"

          And I couldn't stop laughing as Mike drove like a madman to get us home.

           And here Mike is, dry on one side,

 soaking wet on the other. The special effects are courtesy of the raindrops still on the lens of my camera.

          I spent part of one rainy afternoon making stickers for my ladies Bible Study Group. We're working through Search the Scriptures and use a notebook to put the answers in. I'm using a repurposed notebook that someone had written on the front and tore the first few pages out of before I got it. I used a sticker to cover the writing on the cover and thought maybe the other gals would like to have a sticker too. Besides, it was either make stickers or make cookies, another nice rainy day activity, but not nearly so nice on my waistline.

          I was experimenting with different fonts and at one point was having issues getting the sticky vinyl off from around the letters. I ended up a t short. I looked and looked and looked for that little t everywhere and couldn't find it. I couldn't use the word Scriptures without a t. I resigned myself to printing it again.

          Hours later, and I do mean hours, I found it.

          "Where was it?" you ask.

          On the side of my finger! Despite having had washed my hands at least twice before, it was this time, as I dried my hands, that the letter was revealed to me. I laughed. It was stuck tight! Man! That vinyl has some good sticking power!

          I have no idea if the ladies are even interested in decorating their notebooks with stickers... I may be wasting my time and recourses.

          Mike and I went out early one afternoon to check the mail and had only an empty box. "Do you think he's been here yet?" I asked.

          "I don't know," Mike answered.

          "We could go and see if the Kipps got any mail?" I suggested.

          We get down to the Kipps and their mailbox was nowhere to be seen. "Someone knocked it over!" I said spotting it lying in the grass.

          "You wanna pick it up?" Mike asked.

          "Yeah. Let's pick it up for them."

          We got the mailbox righted and he was sad.

          "Should we fix it?" Mike asked.

          "Yeah. I think that would be a nice thing to do."

          We went back to the house, got the screw gun and a couple of screws and went back down to the Kipps house.

          And once again the Kipps mailbox could hold his head up proud.

  

          I spotted a patch of orange growing on an old dead tree I've been past a hundred times and never saw before. "Wait, Mike. Back up." Mike is a good husband, stopped the golf cart, put it in reverse, and backed up.

          "What?" he asked.

          "There on that tree. See it? Is that those edible mushrooms we saw on that show once?" I asked.

          He knew what show I was talking about. "I don't know."

          I cropped the picture after I downloaded it from my camera and I can see it's not the ones I was asking Mike about. Whether or not these are edible I don't know. I do recognize the red berry growing there with it as Nightshade.

          And speaking of berries, I can see the distinctive spots coming on the fruit of the Autumn Olive.

          The Silky Dogwood berries are going from green to deep purple.

          And now, since it's Monday afternoon, we shall call this one done.

          Done!