This year the Gilbertson's seem to be the bluebird box of choice, (maybe those last inhabitants got caught on the housing bubble and trashed the place before they left, I dunno).
We've had two broods again this year on the little prairie.
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Siah tells me the brown color is indicative of the last stages of caterpillardom, making it look somewhat of a cross between a Tootsie-roll and a Rapala. Here she is already setting up some strings for the chrysalis (or cocoon, loosely translated), I'll be interested to see what that looks like.
I said we would give the family metamorphic updates and that they could visit again and see the progression. She's in with the Cecropias, it's a good neighborhood. I go back in tonight, I can hardly wait to see what happened!
Okay, big doin's ahead: work tonight at SB, this weekend photograph the entire Friends of the Mississippi River Canoe and Bicycle Challenge event, first rent a big lens from West, and get my Peace Garden photography cards and posters to JoAnn B. to sell on Sunday. Oh yeah and write the interpretive program to teach teachers about the Mississippi River Gorge from a 12-foot Voyageurs canoe while floating the river on Monday. Oh and make new business cards with the SmugMug address on them before tomorrow. First and foremost: Feed the turtle!
I'm getting an odd image of Godzilla picking his teeth with a telephone pole.
Many, MANY dragonflies and damselflies were landing all over us and everything while we were stream-gauging and sampling macro-invertebrates. My theory is they knew what we were up to and were looking for an easy meal. A pan full of collected inverts sitting next to the creek must be like the buffet line at Red Roof Inn coming over to your patio.
Dewdrop defying gravitational forces were at work on a blade of grass on the lawn of Vermilion Community College in Ely, MN.
Yes, it was on the SIDE of the blade.
Ahhh. I seem to be the biggest creature in the world now.
Also, there was the getting ready for the Sunset photo hike tonight, and the thinking about the big 5-day nature workshop up in Ely (MN) next week. Should be great: visiting the underground mine, learnin' about Cuba, eatin' pizza, scratch that, ...learning about MN history, forestry, stream gauging, macroinvertibrate sampling, the wolf center, and a canoe trip in the BWCA!
Woo hoo!
In addition I finally got the images off of the laptop at Springbrook that I took last week when I got to help out with the John & Pamela's Dragonfly program, a.k.a. "Digital Dragonflies in an Analog World."
The coolest part was getting to shoot with Siah's Canon setup (I know Nikon friends... yes, I touched it and everything.) It wasn't so much the camera but the stack of lenses, tubes and multipliers. Enough optics to make the Hubble envious. I don't know the Canon system very well, but I think it was a 500mm zoom (?) lens with a #2 extension tube and a 1.4x multiplier. All I know is, clamp it on a tripod and it's quite a chunk of metal to carry around in 90 degree humidity. I had never shot with a lens whose barrel was so heavy you had to put the focus lock on before tipping the camera forward or the weight of the lens would start to telescope itself slowly out as you turned rings and pushed buttons and levelled things and cursed at dragonflies for not holding still twenty feet away. It's good to try new things tho. Even when all the buttons on the camera are in a completely different place than you're used to. It's like Helen Keller's parents rearranging the furniture or something. Just when you get used to it one way, BAM! It's not there when you need it, and what's worse, it's someplace else.
Lot's of dragonflies and damselflies were to be found, tho nothing that didn't belong here. I like these 4-spot skimmers, they always look so jovial. (I know, anthropomorphizing again. What can I say, I'm only human.)
I know they're blood-thirsty killers, predators throughout all of their morphic stages, so the fact that it looks like they have a perpetual smile on their face is actually kind of creepy. (Woops, did it again)
I learned something cool at the program, it's that recent research has shown that dragonflies will actually tip their bodies up so that their point of their smallest surface area faces the sun to reduce heat-absorption if they are too hot.
Cool.
Literally.Something I was wondering about was when the etymology of the word "dragonfly" came about. "Dragon" had to come first, I figured. That comes from Greek they think, as in "dracon". Tho from Middle English it's something like "derk", which means "dark." Ironically enough, they mentioned some stuff about it in this book about the History of the English Language I was just listening to. There are a bunch of regional words for dragonfly, the Dictionary of American Regional English lists nearly 80 of them! Darner, darning needle, devil's darning needle, ear sewer, mosquito fly, mosquito hawk, needle, skeeter hawk, snake doctor, snake feeder, and spindle being a few. The greatest variety of terms is to be found in the South, where the most widespread term is "snake doctor" (a name based on a folk belief that dragonflies take care of snakes). The Midland equivalent is "snake feeder." Speakers from the Lower South and the Mississippi Valley are more likely to refer to the same insect as a mosquito fly, mosquito hawk, or, in the South Atlantic states, a skeeter hawk.
The imagery outside the South often alludes to the insect's shape rather than its behavior or diet. Speakers in the West, Upper North, and New England call it a darner, darning needle, or, less commonly, a devil's darning needle, and those in the Upper North also refer to it just as a needle; those in Coastal New Jersey, a spindle; and those in the San Francisco Bay area, an ear sewer, that is, a creature that sews up your ears.
In many other languages "dragonfly" comes up as something similar to "libellule", which is also the name of a common genus of dragonflies, but nothing like "dragon" in other languages, which is usually pretty close to "drache", "drago" or the like. It goes back a long way too, into Teutonic, Greek, etc.
Seems like people always had a word for a weird, threatening, dangerous-looking thing they didn't understand. Something to do with anthropomorphizing, I guess.
I took a few shots of him that all looked exactly the same, Happy seemed not to notice. As I was turning to move on, I sensed more eyeballs and saw what was either a two-headed raccoon that had evolved to see around both sides of the tree at the same time, or two raccoons peering at me questioningly.
After snapping a few pics of them, swatting a few more bugs, itching a few more bites and giving Hap a treat for being so patient (he knows when he's been patient, right after I take the camera down from my eye, whether he's been lazing in the grass or yanking my arm off and making it impossible to take a shot) I again turned to go and noticed the two raccoons had become three raccoons.
A few more shots, check the flash batteries, itch, swat, itch, no treat this time, and fully expecting to see NINE raccoons, figuring they were multiplying exponentially, I looked up to see....
Nothing. Procyon lotor (which incidentally means "the washer" in Latin) had vanished, shape-shifted, or divided by zero.We did make it down to the bridge just in time for the sunset, and we were not disappointed. Here's one shot with a little fill-flash for color.