monarchs and milkweed

The basic theme of this blog is the many seasons occurring in the natural world that can be observed here in Vermont. After all these years, there is one facet that I've never mentioned and that is the season occurring right now, the relationship between monarch butterflies and milkweed. The reason I've never mentioned it is because I've known next to nothing about it.

I decided it was time of that to change and spoke with my dharma sister, Mitra, the monarch and milkweed maven. She told me how to find the caterpillars among the milkweed and how to raise them into butterflies.

I started out in the field behind my house where I'd seen a patch of milkweed. By the time I got out there I was astonished to see that it had all been eaten!

Could the caterpillars have done that? No, the culprit was the cows. I didn't know they liked milkweed. I knew of a patch nearby, and went over to see what I could find. I hadn't been there a minute when I saw this.

It's funny how some things change. I had read about the monarch and milkweed, but seeing this caterpillar made it real for me. There was a connection. It was similar to the bluebirds we've had in the backyard for so many years. A little bit of knowledge and a little bit of contact elicits a connection. Now those caterpillars became my caterpillars.

The story about the monarchs and milkweed is a sad and familiar one. Something beautiful is going away; the Amazon rain forest, the wood thrush, people we care about.

https://myaltonaforest.wordpress.com/2014/04/30/monarchs-and-milkweed-the-precarious-cycle/

On a happier note, when I was looking for caterpillars I saw this. 

As I matter of fact, I saw 6-8 monarchs that day. There are a lot of things we don't have in Vermont, but it appears that we have boat loads of milkweed.

It's everywhere! Given that there are fewer cows in the remaining pastures, and given what the cows in our fields did to the milkweed there, it seems possible that the milkweed supply at least in our area is growing, and with it the population of these beautiful creatures!

Driving home from the Zen Center yesterday, I saw a number of monarchs crossing the road. I held my breath every time I saw one. They are so beautiful. The number of roads and other perils they will encounter on their way south seems almost infinite. One more being to worry about coming out of this newfound relationship.

Only connect

E. M. Forster

mist in the morning

Rain yesterday, mist in the morning. Goldfinches blasting around the countryside, feasting on thistles.

Such coolness-
the sound of the bell
echoing out from
the bell!
Buson
Zen page-a-day calendar

observations

Another sunny day of grace here on the other side of the creek. Driving on the detour around Brandon the other day and noticed what I thought was wildflowers that were growing amongst the stalks in a corn field.

What I was seeing wasn't wildflowers at all, it was brownish/pink tassels on the tops of the ears of corn. This was the first time I'd seen this. I started to look at the tassels in other cornfields and didn't see it again. The other tassels were a yellowish/green. Hopefully you can see this. Tell me I'm not crazy.

These are the kinds of observations that I find most gratifying. I've been doing this blog/journal for over 13 years. Most of the postings involve observations that are not new to me. To see something I've never seen before means the natural world is opening up just a little bit more.

all the birds are leaving

I've said more than once on this blog that not only do you start to notice when seasonal phenomena arrive, but also when they depart. Spring mornings are full of the sounds of song birds, but now the sunny mornings are silent. I don't know if the birds have actually started their fall migration yet, or if they are just quiet because they don't need to establish their territory now that the breeding season is over.

Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving.
But how do they know it's time for them to go?
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming.
I have no thought of time.
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
Sandy Denny

August in Vermont

The old saying says that there's nothing so rare as a day in June. Can't argue with that, but August in Vermont is pretty nice, too. It's almost like a state of grace, the calm before the storm, like the brief moment when you stop at the top of a roller coaster before the quick slide into fall and winter.

Friday was another beautiful, sunny day, and we decided to order dinner from Sissy's in nearby Middletown Springs. Many of the viewers of this blog have been to Sissy's and love it as much as we do. It is unique.

Allyn called in the order. The person taking our order was one of Allyn's old students from Tinmouth. As I drove into town for the pickup, I saw this sign.

It seemed quintessentially Vermont. Direct, simple, unpretentious, stuck in a hay bale at the end of Many Springs Drive. Picked up the order at Sissy's.

Stopped at the village store, just off the town green to get some Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream to go with the sour cherry pie from Sissy's.

I'm sure I won't feel the same come February and March, but, for now, I'm grateful to be in such a beautiful place.

post script

There is a final post script to last Friday's recounting of our adventures with the cows jail break into the neighboring forests. I didn't mention it at the time because that post was so long. The whole time that we were chasing the cows through the woods, I was figuratively kicking myself. I was sure that my own carelessness in trying to secure the gate had led to the problem in the first place.

When the cows were finally back where they belonged, Dave said that some of the cows have learned how to open the gate with their nose and tongue, and that you have to keep that in mind when you wrap the chain around the gate. That was the first I had heard that, and felt had I known that, I would have secured the gate differently. This is my new arrangement.

full disclosure

old photo from Flickr

After yesterday's post with the photo of the moon shining through the trees, a couple people asked if I took that photo. That is actually a question I get a lot on this blog. The answer in that particular case is that I think I did, but I'm not really sure. I have been posting photos on this blog for years and the blog site saves the photos that I've used. This is helpful because I do often reuse those photos like I did yesterday. In the early days of this blog, I often used photos that I found on flickr, and I did try to make the proper attributions, but it's just the photos that get saved, not where they come from.

I've often wondered what would be the proper thing to do. I guess I should write something along the lines of what's written with today's photo. Sometimes I use quotes that I get from my Zen page-a-day calendar, and I try to remember to make the proper attributions there. Sometimes I forget to do that, and I apologize. I know this is no excuse, but I feel the viewership on this blog is not large, and I hope my friends and family will forgive me.

Full moon, the "Sturgeon" moon is tonight.

solemn magic

Driving Rte. 7 yesterday evening at sunset. Orange glow of sun and clouds setting over the Adirondacks and Lake Champlain. The almost full moon rising over the Green Mountains, dancing with darkening clouds in the China blue sky. Deep feelings rise up that are hard to put into words. Nobody does a better job of it than Willa Cather.

The sun dropped and lay like a great golden globe in the low west. While it hung there, the moon rose in the east, as big as a cart-wheel, pale silver and streaked with rose color, thin as a bubble or ghost moon. For five, perhaps ten minutes, the two luminaries confronted each other across the level land, resting on opposite edges of the world.
In that singular light every little tree and shock of wheat, every sunflower stalk and clump of snow-on-the-mountain, drew itself up high and pointed; the very clods and furrows in the fields seemed to stand up sharply. I felt the old pull of the earth, the solemn magic that comes out of these fields at nightfall. I wished I could be a little boy again, and that my way could end there.

My Antonia
Willa Cather

season of goldenrod

My eyes (allergies) are telling me it's the season of goldenrod.

mowing the lawn

Another beautiful sunny day yesterday with a part of the afternoon devoted to mowing the back lawn. Falling leaves on the lawn except they weren't exactly falling leaves, they were bracts which Google says are "modified or specialized leaves...associated with a reproductive structure like a flower."

These bracts are from basswood trees nearby. How many years have I mowed over these bracts at this time of year and not known what they were?

Lustrous ebony-shaded crickets hopping out of the way of the mower. They are virtually the same color as the wild blackberries that I sampled in the area where the lawn meets the fence line and the pasture.

Speaking of sampling, Allyn's cherry tomatoes are starting to ripen.

I had a few of those as I headed past. Even a chore like mowing the lawn can sometimes be a feast for the senses.

In the sun, the butterfly wings
Like a church window.
Jack Kerouac
Zen page-a-day calendar

life with cows

A few days ago there was a blog post regarding some star gazing. My friend Doug was interested in that so we planned an outing here. I mowed a section of the back field to make the viewing more comfortable. Some time later I was shocked to see the cows that are here for the summer heading out of their confined field and into open pastures. I thought I must have left the gate improperly secured. I called the farmer, and we both hoped the fencing was secure in the area to which they were heading because it hadn't yet beck checked this summer season.

No such luck. About a day later we got a call from a neighbor I had never met, inquiring if we had cows that were lost because he had some on his lawn. I called Andy, the farmer who owns the cows, and we all met up at the neighbors to hopefully find the cows (in the woods) and head them back to our place.

The area in which we were searching was hilly and covered with rocks and downed tree branches. It was getting dark and it was starting to rain, hard. I drove up north of the neighbor's house, and circled back. For once my instincts were correct, there they were. I slowly walked up to them and tried to nudge them back in the homeward direction. They were having none of it. They hightailed it in the opposite direction, up not down the mountain. They were surprisingly fast and agile!

We chased them all over the mountain that evening. The more we did so, the farther away they got from where they were supposed to be. Andy said that the angus was the ringleader and was the one that was leading them away from our pasture. It got too dark, and we were too wet to continue so we gave up for the night.

First light, and I called Andy to see when we would start again, and what was his plan. He said he planned to go to the edge of our property and call for the cows to come. He thought that Dave (his son) and I could circle back behind them, and we could use this carrot and stick approach. I said that I remembered in the past that he had used buckets of grain to get the cows to follow him. He said that these were all grass fed cows. They didn't even know what grain was. I asked what we were going to do if the black angus continued to lead the cows in the wrong direction. He said he had considered using a tranquilizer gun on that cow. Yikes.

We all met at our place and proceeded with our plan. Dave and I drove up to where we'd seen the cows last and started walking toward our pastures. We heard Andy call once and that was it. We kept walking towards home with no sign of the cows. We crossed into our land, still forest, and headed for the pasture. We finally saw them. They were there in one of our pastures! They were much more docile than they'd been the night before. The rebel ringleader, the black angus, was a tame and docile follower by this point. Dave took the lead and led them back to where they were supposed to be. It was almost as if the day before they were on vacation and didn't want it to end, but today they had seen enough of strange lands and just wanted to go home.

We were all tired but happy to have the cows back where they belonged. Even the cows seemed relieved and ready for a nap.

I couldn't help thinking about life with cows. There aren't too many places left where you can wake up in the morning and find strange cows on your lawn. There's actually something pretty cool about that, within reason. Used to be that there were hundreds of cows in the Ira valley. As far as I can tell these are the only ones that are left, and they are only summer residents. The small independent Vermont dairy farm seems to be on the way out. They just can't compete with the large farms out of the midwest. It's sad to see them go. We'll enjoy them while we can.

Joe Pye Weed

Flowers of late summer.

Bouncing Bet

Jewelweed

Joe Pye Weed

Common Nightshade

Joe Pye Weed is one of my favorite names. Something very solid about it.

season of blackberries

Walking the crossroads, sound of nuts falling out of the trees and onto the road. Squirrels are busy. Season of blackberries

No one's mouth is big enough to utter the whole thing.
Alan Watts

getting ready

St. Johns Wort

Another beautiful day. Walking the Crossroads, crews working on the roads and cutting down branches near telephone wires, getting ready for the cold season. Yesterday I was getting ready for the cold season as well as I was stacking firewood in the back yard. Piles of wood in the yards of some of my neighbors.

Milky Way

Andromeda Galaxy

Yesterday was a beautiful day; sunny, no bugs. It's been hot but it cooled off considerably  after sunset, temperature was about 45 degrees this morning. The sky was clear last night, and I took my new binoculars out to see what I could see. The Great Square of Pegasus and Cassiopeia prominent in the east. Those are fall constellations. Between them is the Andromeda Galaxy. I remember when I first started star gazing on my own, I could look and look for it, and never find it no matter how much time I took. Last night I was shocked that I was able to find it with the binoculars in less than a second. Was also able to get a look at the Hercules Star cluster, the Double Cluster, the Lagoon and Trifid Nebulas in Sagittarius, Albireo in the Northern Cross, and the Wild Duck Cluster. I think I might have even seen the Swan Nebula. 

The real highlight of the evening was that the Milky Way was blazing across the sky. It's been years since I've seen it so clearly.

Because of light pollution, only about 1% of Americans are still able to view the Milky Way. What a loss! We definitely live in a backwater here on the Other Side of the Creek, but there are some advantages.