"Sometimes exhaustion is not a result of too much time spent on something, but of knowing that in its place, no time is spent on something else."
― Joyce Rachelle
"In every tick of the clock a tiny door slams shut; in the following tock is heard the turn of the lock."
― Garry Fitchett
How the heck can it be October already?
To close out September, a hike at Devil's Lake State Park seemed the order of things. But, no — I had no intention of joining the ranks of those pursuing P. ruber at Petenwell Lake on such a beautiful day. Thank goodness they were relocated for those birders who were on their way but missed them when the five pink birds suddenly departed Port Washington. I opine that the notion of spending several hours in a car for a minute or two (to observe), all for the sake of ticking a checkbox or capturing mediocre photos, underscores a particularly banal aspect of contemporary birding. I guess I can empathize with the disappointment of missing them the first time and still feeling the irresistible pull of FOMO to make another attempt. If seen, burning even more fossil fuels for no defensible reason somehow will seem justified — it's a model for conservation and conformity.
For the Máistir Nádúraí, it's about exploration, discovery, and education. Whenever I go somewhere, I like to stay there for a long time and see as much as I can. Naturally, every outing is also an opportunity for me to collect content for this blog. Not only do I enjoy the outing for its own sake, but also the endeavor of finding things to offer narrative and perspective. And that's what today's blog is about — perspective.
Well, here's a great bird for the day — a gorgeous Eastern Bluebird Sialia sialis. In terms of a log or checklist, it will count for nothing. The photographic image takes up a little storage to be displayed on this blog and elsewhere. As far as anyone could say, I might be the only person ever to observe or photograph this particular individual.
Where is it right now?
Where will it go?
What kind of winter season will it have?
Will it return?
For me, seeing an Eastern Bluebird is like stumbling upon a piece of living art in Nature's gallery. With its stunning azure plumage, it's as if a fragment of the sky itself has descended to Earth. The delicate rustle of its feathers and its cheerful melodious call evoke a sense of serenity and familiarity. I know that voice, as a small bluebird flock passes overhead. It's a heartwarming encounter that leaves a lasting impression, reminding me of the simple yet profound pleasures that Nature has to offer those who pause to appreciate its beauty. Common things serve as a reminder that beauty is not limited to the rare or the exotic — it exists all around us, waiting to be noticed and appreciated. This perspective encourages mindfulness and gratitude, helping us find contentment and joy in the everyday.
Like traversing over freshly fallen leaves carpeting the ground ...
The stunning views going up Balanced Rock Trail ...
And then from the top of the bluff ...
There will come a day when I won't be able to do the climb up (and down) Balanced Rock Trail ― is that in ten years or twenty? I've been doing it almost forty years and my back and knees aren't what they once were. While it's clearly not Rainier or Denali, completing the hike up the bluff isn't just about conquering a physical challenge; it's about the journey, the connection to Nature, and the sense of accomplishment that comes from pushing one's limits. It caps a day to etch in one's heart, reminding us of the wonders of the world and the exuberance of exploring it one step at a time, rather than one mile marker at a time.
Once home, I thought to check in on some of the tiny critters at Deer Creek, like this Spotted Spreadwing Lestes congener. Checking on hopper insects, there were still Locust and Black Locust Treehoppers, though not as many as a few weeks ago. I wasn't able to find any Buffalo Treehoppers, so I guess their season is complete.
The forecast in southern Wisconsin calls for a series of days in the 80s, which is unseasonably warm for early October. By next weekend, though, the highs will be in the 50s. That's still warm enough for many insects, but probably not for ectothermic tiger beetles. Perhaps I'll look for fall sparrows.
The ever-helpful Stilt-legged Fly ...
Pointing the way forward!
Only kidding. This is Taeniaptera trivittata, an ant mimic but a true dipterid nonetheless ― the clear spots on the wings give it an ant-like impression when viewed from above. Silt-legged Flies scout around on plant leaves with their front legs (or leg) held forward, resembling antennae and perhaps even use them as such. Several of them were circuitously scurrying about on Compass Plant leaves, only occasionally pausing long enough for me to take a few portraits of them. I observed one taking flower nectar. Found near water bodies, such as streams, ponds, and wetlands, as well as in damp forested areas, they are not as well-known as some other insect species. Stilt-legged Flies play an important role in ecosystems by breaking down organic matter and contributing to nutrient cycling.
And so, October. The insecting season begins to wane along with wildflowers, and most migratory songbirds are well to the south by now. Insects and flowers have different strategies for surviving winter, depending on their species and environmental conditions. For now there's still much to observe and appreciate. Indeed, October often marks Nature's last hurrah for vibrant colors and bustling wildlife activity before the arrival of winter's monochromatic quietude. It's a month that encapsulates the final burst of life and beauty in many regions before the landscape transitions into a more subdued and dormant state.
An Aster ...
A Primrose ...
Even Poison Ivy ― extremely pernicious to me ― can appear quite stunning this time of year.
All images © 2023 Mike McDowell