― Albert Einstein
Pheasant Branch Prairie
Late Spring. The Summer Solstice occurs later this week―it's Thursday, in fact. Ever so slowly, once again we begin the long trek toward winter. Some birds begin to notice the shorter daylight hours, especially those near the Arctic Circle. However, given this weekend's sweltering heat and humidity, I think a drop in temperature would be most welcome. Heat indexes were above 100 degrees Fahrenheit Sunday afternoon. I did not want to be outside in the muggy weather, so I made sure to get my dose of Nature in the mornings. On Saturday I led a field trip at Pope Farm Conservancy for around 30 participants (checklist at the bottom). And then this morning Dottie and I went to check in on the Henslow's Sparrows at Pheasant Branch Prairie. Fortunately, they're still present. Only two or three were singing, but one or two slyly popped up to take a quick peek at us and then went back to their unseen affairs in the dense grass. A few Sedge Wrens did the same, but they were far more gregarious in song.
Sedge Wren
Henslow's Sparrow
Song Sparrow
Ya just gotta love the little brown jobs!
Purple Coneflower Echinacea purpurea
Beardtongue Penstemon digitalis
Common Milkweed Asclepias syriaca
Milkweeds are beginning to bloom, and that means Milkweed Beetles. I checked my Middleton spot for Dogbane Leaf Beetles, but found none. No matter, I'm sure they'll be present soon. And truly, I'm not particularly choosy when it comes to nature photography. I'll photograph anything if I think I can represent it at its absolute best. But I also like discovering new creepy-crawlies, especially something rare or easily unnoticed.
Red Milkweed Beetle Tetraopes tetrophthalmus
And these two are doing their best!
Peacock Fly Callopistromyia annulipes
Before leaving the field for the comfort of my air-conditioned apartment, I stopped at the creek corridor to look for Diptera (flies). I was hoping to find Long-legged Dance Flies and Peacock Flies. I didn't find the former, but there were several of the latter on the bridge railing at the first creek crossing. One must search carefully, for these tiny flies are only four to six millimeters in length. Monstrosities in their realm, to be sure!
While eating lunch at a neighborhood cafe yesterday, there were several young adults from some kind of comic or geek convention sitting at table near me. They were excitedly showing each other Pokémon-like creatures on their smart phones. It reminded me how sometimes me and my birding friends show one another photos we've taken of birds, insects, flowers, etc., from our recent outings. I wanted to pull up a photograph of a Peacock Fly on my smart phone, hold it up to them, and say something like: "Hey! This is a Peacock Fly. To attract the attention of a potential mate, they erect and wiggle their wings which iridesce brilliant flashes of blue. And the most amazing thing is...they actually exist!" Yeah. But I didn't crush their ersatz dreams.
I saw my first Fireflies of the late Spring season last night. One by one, the chorus of birds retired their voices for the day. Just before sunset everything was still singing full-force. But as the sun sank below the horizon, the Willow Flycatchers stopped, closely followed by Common Yellowthroats. Red-winged Blackbirds finally gave it up, then American Robins, until all that was left were Northern Cardinals and Song Sparrows. Eventually, of course, they too called it a day. But then I noticed from across the field I could still hear the chattering songs of Sedge Wrens. This reminded me of a passage from William Burt's book Rare and Elusive Birds of North America:
That is some stamina, some tried and true machine. He cannot get enough of singing, it would seem. You'd think he might wear some parts out, or work some loose with all that steady vibrating and jolting. Or he might stall, totter, stop altogether, and topple, like a battery-powered toy. But he does not.
How does he do it? What powers this ultra-tiny-dynamo? Insects and spiders, merely, it is reported, such live things as he can find and tweeze and swallow when not already occupied by singing, or sleeping. Sleeping, yes―when does he do that?Pope Farm Conservancy, Dane, Wisconsin, US
Jun 16, 2018 7:00 AM - 8:30 AM
39 species
Canada Goose
Great Blue Heron
Sandhill Crane
Killdeer
Mourning Dove
Ruby-throated Hummingbird
Northern Flicker
Eastern Wood-Pewee
Eastern Phoebe
Great Crested Flycatcher
Eastern Kingbird
Blue Jay
American Crow
Horned Lark
Tree Swallow
Barn Swallow
Black-capped Chickadee
House Wren
Blue-gray Gnatcatcher
Eastern Bluebird
American Robin
Gray Catbird
European Starling
Cedar Waxwing
Common Yellowthroat
Chipping Sparrow
Clay-colored Sparrow
Field Sparrow
Vesper Sparrow
Song Sparrow
Northern Cardinal
Indigo Bunting
Baltimore Oriole
Red-winged Blackbird
Brown-headed Cowbird
Common Grackle
House Finch
American Goldfinch
House Sparrow
All images © 2018 Mike McDowell