Summer Whimsy

Day 333: The hot weather of the last few weeks brought out the Whites by the hundreds...not the usual Margined Whites (Pieris marginalis) or Pine Whites (Neophasia menapia) I'm used to seeing in my yard, but good old-fashioned Cabbage Whites (Pieris rapae). I don't recall having ever seen them here before, supported by the fact that I have no photos of them in my archives. With them came the Woodland Skippers, both strongly attracted to the few remaining lavender flowers in the garden. These two butterflies were common when I was young, and among the first I learned to identify with common names. While I am happy to have both in my yard, I would like to know what shifts in climate brought them here. And why such huge numbers of them in a location where I have never observed them previously? Certainly some precursor to this phenomenon evaded my notice in 2016; butterflies don't generate from thin air. There were far too many to have come from an isolated pair mating outside their normal range. Such is the nature of science: not to solve the mysteries of the world with one discovery, but to raise more questions with each new revelation.

A Glad, Good September Morn

Day 323: A Glad, Good September Morn to you, my friends! As many (but not all) of you know, this is my personal "holiday," second only to Christmas on my calendar. Traditionally, it is celebrated with a swim (or at least a dunk) in a chilly alpine tarn somewhere, but with this being Labor Day weekend, the celebration will have to be put on hold until it can be performed without the chance of being seen. Instead, I have chosen to bring you the beauty of my garden, just a small bouquet which includes no more than three stems of any given plant species. Believe me, the sacrifice was negligible! Included are two types of Coneflower (Rudbeckia), two Cosmos, Nasturtiums, Lavender, Delphinium, hardy Fuchsia, Snapdragons, Nigella, tall Phlox and a few California Poppies which were in a "wildflower" mix. May your coming year be as bright and festive as these flowers, and may you find joy in the Beautiful Month.

Woodland Skipper Loves Lavender

Day 295: Among other assorted flutterbyes in my garden, the hot weather has brought out Woodland Skippers in droves, and they love the lavender. These cute little critters fascinated me when I was a child because unlike other butterflies, they frequently hold their hind wings at an angle to their forewings when at rest, a pose which puts me in mind of experimental aircraft. The larvae of Ochlodes sylvanoides feed on a variety of tall, coarse grasses; in Washington, this includes the invasive Reed Canary Grass. Perhaps the abundance of Skippers in recent years is related to the increase in available forage, Nature attempting to strike a balance between native and non-native species. That said, it seems like the Canary Grass is winning despite the Skippers' valiant efforts to control it, but it does my heart good to see so many of these charming butterflies in my garden.

Skipper Spotlight

Day 320: A few days ago, I was fiddling around with post-processing effects in response to a photo challenge, starting with a base image which otherwise might never have seen the light of day. Oh, I got the Woodland Skipper in focus, but without capturing any major field markings or characteristics, automatically excluding it from anything I'd use for a "field guide" shot. The background was bland and to my eye, the lavender seemed to be intrusive, and the highlights on the insect's body were too bright. In other words, the image only marginally escaped being thrown in the trash. When I remembered that I was one image short of completing the photo challenge, I decided to see if I could gussy it up a bit.

First of all, I added a feathered blur filter leaving only the Skipper and a bit of lavender in focus. Lens flare provided some colour for the corners and a rule-of-thirds glow, and a "sunlight" filter warmed the image overall. I diminished the highlights and deepened the midtones as a final touch to bring Mr. Skipper out of anonymity and into the spotlight. Still not a "field guide" shot, but even in my world, sometimes it's not always about science.

Lavender Bottles

Day 262: It's been years since I made lavender bottles. I saw no particular need, since the one in my "dainties" drawer still had some fragrance. That said, I figured it could use refreshing, and with a sufficient supply of lavender in my garden, I parked myself on a lawn chair in the shade of the contorted filbert during the cool of the morning and set to weaving. By the time I was done, I had half a dozen, plus a vaseful of flower spikes too stiff to bend.

Also known by the rather boring name of lavender wands, lavender bottles are fairly simple to make. Pick an odd number of long stems (11 or 13 makes a nice bottle), strip them of leaves and isolated flower clusters and bunch them up. Lay the tail of a spool of 3 mm. ribbon (do not cut!) among the flower heads with three inches projecting beyond the tips of the flowers. Tie a piece of string around the flowers and ribbon tail just below the bases of the spikes. Give each stem a gentle pull to be sure the bottom flowers are snugged up against the tie-off because that is where the stems will be the most flexible. Otherwise, you risk breaking them. Now gently bend each stem down to form a "cage" around the flowers.

Weaving will be done with the ribbon coming off the spool. Set the spool on the table. You will not handle it during the weaving. The first two rows are the hardest. Hold the wand in one hand (left, if you're right-handed) and as you weave over-and-under, rotate the wand. Keep the ribbon flat as it weaves through the stems, and try not to leave any gaps between rows. Be sure to keep any string tails inside the weaving. When you have covered the flower heads entirely, cut the ribbon from the spool leaving about four inches. Wrap each ribbon tail around the wand in either direction, and tie off with a square knot topped by a bow.

The fragrance of lavender lasts for many years, even beyond the time when the stems dry and become brittle. Where does the "bottle" portion of the name originate? I haven't got a clue.

A Corner Of Color

Day 323: In a day when "clashing colors" meant that you didn't wear green with blue, red with orange or purple, grey with brown, my mother's sage but somewhat contradictory advice was to take direction from Mother Nature. If colors did not appear together naturally, they were verboten. I promptly went out and found many examples of red flowers with orange centers, brilliantly blue blossoms rising over vivid green foliage and verdant mosses growing on the grey bark of the alders so prevalent in the Pacific Northwest. Mother Nature, it seemed, was ready to excuse any shades I cared to combine. Soon, the aesthetics were to change. With the advent of the Hippie Era, clashing colors became de rigueur, but the trend was for unnatural shades, the "day-glo" palette. With the exception of eyeball-bursting chartreuse, the hippie hues offended my sensibilities.

Today, I fall back on my garden for fashion counseling. It trends toward the jewel tones, assiduously avoids pink, mixes anything else while being based primarily in greens. It does not matter if it runs down a bit at the heel, is rumpled or has a few patches. It's comfortable in its loose fit, rather old-fashioned, and most importantly, it's a happy, riotous rainbow from top to bottom with no concern for that silly idea that any two colors might clash.