Posts Tagged ‘lavender’
I had no idea what type of insect this was; I’d never seen one until it appeared in my garden in 2015 and I haven’t seen one since. The famous entomologist, Herr Google, leads me to think it’s a Grapevine Beetle, also known as a Spotted June Beetle. I enjoyed capturing photos of it, but I wish I’d run a lint brush over it before I started.
While heavily drugged after surgery last spring to remove a tumor from my pancreas, I gave myself ten “seven photos in seven days” photo challenges. So far, I’ve posted seven. This eighth post reveals seven of my favorite bug photos from 2015. Some are of baby bugs—caterpillars rather than winged adults. I pointed that out in case anyone feels baby butterflies and moths don’t qualify as bugs (I suppose it’s a stretch but there are many definitions of “bug”).
I hope you enjoy my bug photos. It’s a seven-day/seven-photo challenge, but all the photos are here in a single post.
I love to see cabbage butterflies in my garden, though they have seriously diminished my excitement for growing broccoli (I hate the part of preparing homegrown broccoli where you float the broccoli crowns in salt water for an hour so the worms die and float off the food.) The “antique white” of this butterfly delightfully complemented the delicate lavender color of my… lavender.
Since moving to Pennsylvania 21 years ago, it seems I’ve heard in five or six summers that this was the year of the seventeen year cicada. In one of those years, there was actually an abundance of the magnificent insects in our area, though they did not inundate our living space and crunch under foot. Every year we hear the cicadas’ buzz, and I often find visitors in my small kitchen garden. This one was resting on a tomato stake in my plot at the community garden.
I first saw wasps like this one in 2014. I was able to find photos online that identify it as a great golden digger wasp. Many of them started frequenting my garden when the marjoram was in bloom. The wasps show no interest in me, but focus exclusively on the marjoram’s delicate flowers.
For 18 years, I’d harvest wild black raspberries in meadows up the street from my house. Each year I’d also inspect milkweed plants in those meadows for evidence of monarch butterfly activity. Finally, in 2015, I found the caterpillar in this photo. Sadly, but for one building lot, the meadows are all gone. The landowner subdivided the land and there are houses on nearly all of them. No more milkweed. No more black raspberries. I wanted to live on a farm far enough from the nearest neighbors that we wouldn’t see the light on the pole in their barnyard. We bought a house on the edge of town 21 years ago, but town is an invasive weed that has grown in around us.
I’m not particularly fond of grasshoppers, but they tend to make themselves available for decent photos. This one lingered on my garden’s rabbit fence near the tomato patch.
I love having dragonflies visit my kitchen garden. The main attractant, I think, is the “rain garden” I dug several years ago. I haven’t completed the project; I still need to line a ditch with gravel, lay perforated pipe in the ditch, and fill around the pipe with soil. Oh, and I should come up with a few rain-garden-appropriate plants. Still, in heavy rains, the collection pool fills and as it drains, moisture holds on at the bottom for days after the rest of the garden has dried.
On February 15th in Ithaca, NY, a snowstorm added several inches to a well-established snow pack. By this time, there was a similar covering in Lewisburg, PA, though a few February storms passed either north or south of Lewisburg, leaving our problems mild compared to those of neighboring states.
Who wasn’t talking about winter this winter? For most of us, it was unusual. Here, we’d gotten used to remarkably mild winters. I’d been able to play golf until January (we’d be cold, but snow-free), and whatever snow we’d get in January and February would melt away before March.
Year-after-year I’d posted a “first crocus of spring” photo pretty close to March 9th. And, unless we had a lot of rain in March, I’d been able to plant peas on March 17th—St Patrick’s day.
On March 11th, snow in Lewisburg had melted away except in heavily shaded places and north-facing slopes. I shot this photo of a north-facing slope around the corner from the Cityslipper ranch (my house). It’s the back yard of a newly-built, unoccupied house and that path through the snow is a deer trail. Four houses have gone up since winter of 2013, eliminating the woods and meadows where I’ve collected black raspberries, blackberries, and elderberries for 19 years. Sure, there are new houses with yards, but the deer haven’t given up.
By early February, we had an amazing accumulation of snow. It was amazing not so much for the amount of snow, but for the snow’s tenacity. Temperatures remained very low and the snow stayed. When things did warm up, it wasn’t enough to melt snow, but it was enough to cause more snow storms. The extreme “polar vortex” cold taunted us whenever we left the house, and the snow tormented our dog whose stomach dragged on snow whenever she went off road.
In early March, we had some less-cold days. What’s more, we had rain! This helped melt snow, but most plants wouldn’t be fooled. We’re used to seeing daffodil sprouts in February, but this year there were none even in the second week of March—or the third or the fourth.
Still, on March 11, spring said hello. It was sunny and warm, and on the afternoon dog walk I noticed how absent the snow had become. What’s more, there were crocus blossoms… pretty much on the same schedule as in our much milder winters. Sure, things have moved along well since March 11, but this post is about that special first truly spring-like day of the season. The photos tell the rest of the story.
With snow nearly gone, I inspected the yard. Someone had eaten many of my young rose plants and my hydrangeas nearly to the ground. That same someone, I guess, also chewed on my thornless raspberry plants. Still, I found promising indicators that spring might actually take hold. This was among the first crocuses about four feet from my main vegetable bed.
A lavender plant I set in the garden in autumn of 2012 has survived two winters. I’m guessing lavender is hardier than rosemary as cold winters have typically knocked out whatever rosemary plants we’ve established. Admittedly, I’m not a fan of lavender as a seasoning, and I’d rather have neutral smells in my living space. So, the lavender will remain an outdoor pet.
On March 11th, healthy-looking oregano leaves peeked through the dead stems from last year’s growth. I anticipate the oregano will try to escape its containment rings this season… I’ve three varieties each contained in a 3-foot circle by a plastic barrier I embedded about 9 inches into the ground.
Even with a sheet of ice nearly covering it on March 11th, my rhubarb plants had healthy “buds” popping out of the soil. The cold held these buds nearly to the end of March before slightly warmer days triggered them to deploy leaves. I’ll share photos in an upcoming post.