Busy Bee at the latest sunflower. 

Hummingbird moth. 

Oregano Moths

 


Better shots of the moths in the oregano this morning. The diversity astounds me more by the moment...as I realize, yet again, how little I know about the world around me. This first moth, above, seems fairly standard and familiar to me.

But look at this one below, noting particularly the compound structure of his (her?) wings. It looks more like some sophisticated paper airplane than a moth!! Simply amazing...

 

What's the Buzz...

 

Today, it would seem...the oregano came into its own, and was just swarming with pollinators drawn to the sweetness. It was kind of exciting for me (and here I go proving my status as Garden Geek). I remember honeybees from my childhood in NJ, I used to watch them (and try to catch them)as they'd zigzag their way through the clover in the lawn.

 


In the years since, pesticides caught up with some of them, rare bee diseases claimed more...and they've really be on the decline. I hadn't seen one in a long, long time. Until this week...I spotted one the other day, flitting through the "ironweed" (I'll seek out a more official name shortly...)...and then today, there were literally dozens of them...and bumblebees (of two different sizes), wasps, butterflies, dragonflies. It was quite something...

Bumblybee. 

Bzzzzz....

Big bumbler makes a late afternoon milkweed visit. 

Busy Sunday in Garden City

Daisy hosts. 

Susan with a Green Fly. 

A late appearance from a rescued lupine. 

 

Dragonfly chills on a Milkweed plant. 

Visiting the nightly clover buffet. 

Pollination, and Other Bee Leisure Time Activities

 

Well, now that I'm getting used to having foxglove blooming on an annual basis, this second year has brought an interesting observation. Last year, I remember seeing a big bumbly bee making his way in ungainly bumblebee fashion from blossom to blossom on the foxglove plants.

And then I watched the bee climb into the lowest (and oldest) of the blossoms on the stalk, which then broke free and spiralled to the ground, bringing the bee along with it. At the time, I guess I bought into the idea that this silly fat bee had gotten himself a big surprise...but having seen exactly the same thing again this year, I'm now wondering if maybe this is how daredevil bees relax. I mean, gathering nectar for honey is nice work if you can get it, but it may not be all that exciting. So maybe foxgloves are just Six Flags For Bees.

Or I suppose the bees are just playing into the foxgloves' whole plan for world conquest, as each blossom that falls scatters a nice assortment of foxglove seeds for new plants...and so the colonies expand.

In any event, it sure is nice to see so many visitors to the garden each day...the bees, the flies, the ants, the bluetip needle flies, dragonflies, lightning bugs (no evening displays yet, but I've seen them around the Green), and more recently, butterflies...even the June bugs have made what feels like a last minute appearance in the last day or so.

Not sure yet if that's thyme or oregano this butterfly is resting on, nor for that matter have I taken the time to identify the species yet. But it makes me feel good about the garden to see them all each day. Things must be working the way they're supposed to.
 

Smiles Everyone, Smiles!

A First Nasturtium. 


I love this time of year. This particular moment, this sequence. The last week of June has raced upon us, as it always does, and in gardens everywhere, so much is happening.

Each rose bush bursts out with blooms, like a slow-motion preview of the fireworks we'll see next weekend. Tiny white multifloras on the bank to the meadow, hot magenta double blossoms on the sprawling bush in the tangle of grapes, two different pink hedges around the house, and a lovely yellow standard. Around them are drifts of dark purple spiderwort, and the occasional burst of pinky-purple cranesbill, and some fading yellow daylilies. Foxgloves are blooming all around us, but even their show goes too quickly by...as they turn their efforts toward seed scattering.

And that's just the opening. There's such anticipation building. Everywhere you look, you can see the progress. Nearly every surviving African marigold plant has a flower bud on it. The sunflowers grow stronger and taller each day. Every day, the bee balm has a new set of leaves, a little higher above the bed...and I study it to see if this is the one that will open with the flower. Snapdragon plants tower. Lily buds are thickening, as their stems branch and seperate. Shasta daisies climb as their buds bulge into buttons. Seeds scattered randomly around have taken root and are starting to be recognizable: allyssum, cosmos, more marigolds. Campion buds are forming. And all around them, other, later-season perennials grow ever taller, saving their show(which for some means continuing to conceal their identity from me).

With a wave of heat coming at us, I've been spending a little more time watering the back garden. It's far enough away from the house that hoses seem impractical, and anyway, I prefer using a watering can. You can pay attention to more specific areas than with the spray of a house, I think. And it's very peaceful, especially in that earlier part of the day, when the suns rays are just beginning to spill into the meadow.

When it's all done, there's nothing like sitting back and just watching. The birds in the trees around the field, the ants crawling over rocks and between plants. The moths, butterflies and bees that fly from one plant to the next, seeing what's in season this morning. It's like a little city, made of green, a thriving metropolis of diversity.