Paean to the Firefly

It's been several weeks since the local fireflies began illuminating our yard with their pulsing glow. And, perhaps in the interim, I have become slightly obsessed with them. They are also a source of curiosity for the dog--what is this thing that lights up in front of my nose and then disappears? It seems like they have hit their stride in the last week, more abundant than in the weeks prior, the light show in the yard more showy. And so, when I saw the article in the NY Times tonight about researchers who actually study fireflies (how cool is that?), I figured I should finally put fingers to keyboard and punch out an ode to this amazing creature.

My previous post on the insidious insects in my garden notwithstanding, there are many insects I find fascinating: staphylinid beetles, luna moths, bees of any nature, chironomids (if only because I've looked at zillions in fish guts), lacewings. But the firefly has to be the most captivating of them all. I had kind of forgotten all about them until a few years ago when I was back in Maine at the right time. While the sight of the flashing yellow bug butts reminded me of my childhood, it was my best buddy's absolute amazement at them that really made me feel like a kid. See, the East Coast does have a few things that other Coast lacks...

So, a few weeks ago in my effort to get a closer look at the beautiful firefly, I grabbed some cake-sized tupperware from my parents' cupboard (I was there claiming free dinner), and scurried about the yard trying to capture a few--okay it was easy, they aren't good fliers...And thank goodness they aren't because when it got loose in the pristine environs of my mother's kitchen, I was quickly able to recapture it, although my hysterical laughing and insistence that everything was "just fine" was a dead give-away to the actual events that were unfolding. I got a good look at its bioluminescent abdomen and its striped elytra. Unfortunately, the camera/glass jar/cellophane photo-station my dad and I constructed was inferior for photographing insects, even the slow-moving, relatively photogenic ones. Even so, we had a good time constructing it, he trying to over-engineer it and me trying not to kill the little fellow (he did make a good point that it would be a lot easier if it was dead). I sort of felt like I was 10 again.

Birds, Bugs, Backyard Bonanza

Round about March when the days began lengthening and morning seemed appreciably earlier, we were amazed at the cacophony of birdsong outside our windows. Some of the calls I had heard before, but not since I had left New England for the West Coast. Some were new. All were delightful to listen to, reminding us of what a songbird-poor environment we had left! Now several months later, I'm beginning to see why so many songbirds can make a living here: bugs.

Gardening in the Northwest is great for a number of reasons: 1.) It never gets so hot that you don't feel like doing it; 2.) Everything grows; 3.) It's in the culture--some people need to buy new toasters or SUVs to keep up with the Joneses, others need a fantastic garden...and until now, I had failed to consider a 4th reason: a relatively pest-free environment. Sure, there were slugs and some cut worms (and many garden-reducing mammals), but nothing that would pepper an entire eggplant plant with bullet holes in one night, rendering its leaves photosynthetically useless (thank you flea beatles!). And there were so many aphids on our sweet peas this weekend, we think we lost the lot of them. Bummer.

I also have had more than one encounter with cockroaches, or in the local parlance, Palmetto Bugs, which just makes 'em sound as sweet as a peach pie! My first ever encounter with Periplaneta americana (or perhaps one of its relatives?) was when I had an apartment in Athens while studying abroad--they were gross and freaked me out--nasty sewer pests. They also were all over the place in Hawaii, but seemed slightly less threatening. Now that they are locally referred to as Palmetto Bugs, they seem even more benign. Admittedly, I do think of rural roaches as just one of the smorgasborgd of bugs, while urban ones have some sort of horribly fetid association. So, Palmetto Bugs it is.


At any rate, I have gone on several smooshing campaigns over the last few weeks, some being more successful than others--must keep up the fight! The bugs here are ruthless! Luckily, we do have some friends to help us out, namely all those birds and many frogs. One smart fellar has taken to sitting on the cross-member of our screen door where escaping light must provide an ample supply of phototactically inclined (or dazed) insects.

It's not all bad news in the garden either! I finished off the arugula harvest and started the basil and sugar snap pea harvest last night--combining the ingredients to make a delicious pesto for some homemade pasta! Yum! It was so green and fresh looking! I highly recommend the arugula/basil combination--the arugula gave the pesto a nice peppery spiciness to conteract the sweet basil!




After a rough start, Fygmalion, our Mission Fig, seems to be off on a blazing growth spurt. We had pretty much given him up for dead and labeled him DOA when the lemon tree we ordered at the same time flowered like mad and there was nothing but a stick of the fig. I guess we learned the lesson there: transplant shock doesn't mean death! Both trees seem to be doing well in their designated locations, the lemon filling the back deck with sweet smelling blossoms and Fygmalion leafing out in all directions.



The beans (green, lima, and scarlet runners) seem to be happy as well, as all are flowering, the scarlet runner beans already having set fruit.

The cucumbers (slicers and lemon cukes) have taken over more than their fair share of the garden space and are flowering like mad. Some of the flowers are even turning into spiky little cucumberlings already!

So, despite the bugs and torrential downpours, things in the garden seem happy and we are pleased to start eating the fruits of our labors. Save for the astronomical amount of hard earned cash we've spent on soil and soil amendments, the plentiful rain has kept our watering bill minimal and the ample sun has proven, once again, that "Through the miracles of photosynthesis, small plants will become large plants" (R.T. 2006).

Coastal Adventure

With the weekend suddenly freed up by a canceled class, we loaded up the rig and set our sites on points east, hoping to find some beaches to walk and a place to swim in some saltier water. We crossed the epic Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel, saw lots of nesting osprey on the other side, and decided to check in at Kiptopeke State Park before venturing forth up the DelMarVa peninsula to explore various off-the-beaten path towns. With overcast skies and temperatures in the low 70s, there didn't seem to be a lot of pressure on the park--add to that the astronomical bridge/tunnel toll and the even more astronomical campsite fee (what ever happened to the 10 bucks to pitch a tent...and no, I don't need cable TV?) and we probably could have flown back to Seattle...okay, that's an exaggeration, but one night on the Eastern Shore quickly became spendy, even with the spartan accommodations of the aging (and leaking) EMS Isolation Hut!

After choosing out campsite (least of the evils: fewest full sized pick-ups and blue tarps next door), we ate some Farmer's Market grub acquired before leaving 'Billsburg while sitting on the beach and telling the pup she wasn't allowed to run free. After attracting every no-see-um on the beach, adding to my already pock-marked feet and ankles, we called it quits and got on with our adventure. We hit Cape Charles, Exmore, Wachapreague, and Onancock before getting out to Chincoteague. 

Well, not so fast. As it turns out, the DelMarVa Peninsula is about the most dog-unfriendly spot we've ever been to! Our four-legged buddy was not pleased--promises of long walks on the beach and salty furs, were quickly turning into too much time in the cargo-hold trying not to step in her water bowl or overheat. It seemed, as we approached Chincoteague (after passing the NASA alien-listening devices), that the island was much more God-friendly than Dog-friendly, judging by the numerous Jesus-oriented billboards on the way over the marsh (perhaps it should have been a sign?). But we wandered through town and made our way to the Chincoteague/Assateague gateway. 

So, you see, not only are dogs not allowed on the beach at Chincoteague, they aren't even allowed in cars in the parking lot on the USFWS Refuge! Good thing we drove all the way there! They can take their stinkin' ponies (there's more than a little irony there, as the ponies the US Fish and Wildlife Service is trying to protect are no more native than the grazing cows destroying the refuge I used to use as a field site--or our car-bound canine, for that matter!). Certainly I understand the need to protect wildlife, which would be fine, if the Refuge system actually focused on native species. But it just seems a bit contrived, this whole "protecting the ponies" thing and all. Good grief. Anyway, there was a whole heckuva lot of very nice salt marsh...so we'll remember that and go back to bird watch another time. 

And we did find a great beach closer to home with no tent site or expensive toll needed, so we'll be returning there to turn ourselves into lobsters once again.  The water is warm enough to swim--and had it been warmer and sunnier (well, okay the sun obviously was strong enough to do some damage), it would have been very refreshing! G did not like her 'peeps frolicking about in the water--she would try to swim to us and then get freaked out and go back to shore anxiously awaiting our return. She did like rolling in the sand and then brushing her soaking, sandy body on me and my beach towel to dry off--it resulted in a big mess and a lot of laughs. In the end, we all had fun, even the furry beast, who consumed more than her share of sea water....ooopsies.

Why Did the Turtle Cross the Road?

Photo from Massachusetts Department of Fish and Wildlife

...I don't know, but he was headed toward the Montessori school, so I'm sure they would have given him several options to choose from. Yes, the turtle really was headed toward the school, but happened to be smack dab in the middle of the two yellow lines on a busy roadway when another driver and I stopped to rescue him. Not sure why he was headed to school, as he was coming from the direction of a perfectly good wetland, but perhaps he sensed some higher calling-it happens to the best of us.

My turtle identification leaves a little bit to be desired, and as it turns out, there are lots of options for these parts. I narrowed it down to a few possibilities and after figuring he/she wasn't a snapping turtle, it seemed a Northern Red-Bellied Cooter (Pseudemys rubriventris) was the next best thing, since not much else gets to the size of this one (~12" from stem to stern, of the shell, that is). Since these guys take 15-20 years to reach maturity, I would guess this one was pretty old. Also, as it turns out, this species is listed as Threatened under the Endangered Species Act--hopefully safe passage to school will yield fitter offspring, but I'm not really sure it works that way in the turtle world.

At any rate, it was a good wildlife sighting--especially on the way to work!

And, once I again, "I like turtles!"