Cricket Song 2024

 At lunchtime on Tuesday, July 30, spouse and I were out for a neighborhood walk on my work lunch break (I work remotely about 99% of the time) when I heard it.

No, it was them.  Them being - crickets.

Summer unofficially has ended.

The first crickets of 2024 have sung.  Fall has arrived.

Then I heard them again while walking after work.   Unlike some years, there was no doubt.  Definitely crickets  As I sit outside, I am hearing them now.

Tuesday joins this list of first hearing dates of crickets I've accumulated during my years of blogging.  As you can see from this list, since 2009, there have been few first hearings this late, which surprises me a little, given the early spring we had. Each date has a link to that year's post.

July 29, 2009
July 22, 2010
July 30, 2011 
then, there were two dates in 2012, perhaps due to an early spring
May 21, 2012
July 25, 2012 

apparently no post for 2013 but we were undergoing a caregiving crisis, as I recall, and that might have been why.
August 3, 2014
July 28, 2015 
July 24, 2016 
July 31, 2018 

July 8, 2019

July 23, 2020

July 26, 2021

July 22, 2022

July 27, 2023

As I blogged in 2019:

My blog, with the Garden Bloggers Bloom Day meme I participate in each 15th of the month, has become a kind of garden journal.  I'm no good at diaries or journals, but blogging is something I do keep up with. For now, anyway. 

So, what does this pattern of dates mean?  Not much, perhaps. But it is a way to track the weather - and nature.

As I blogged in 2022:

We all are called by Nature in some way.  The trees know when to drop their leaves and sprout new leaves in spring.  The migrating birds of our area know (although climate change is messing up these signals, sadly, especially in spring) when to leave for their true homes.  I never realized varous of our birds just summer here to breed.

Now, I hear the call of the crickets.  It may make me sad to know summer is fleeting, but it's all the more reason to live each day in the moment.

And, speaking of summer - I hope my readers are staying cool.

Maybe I'll even be able to take a cricket picture one day.

 

Bee and Fireflies #WordlessWednesday

 Thank you, all who commented on my post yesterday announcing a blogging break starting Friday.  I appreciate your support.  I will not be participating in #WordlessWednesday next week

Three insect pictures for your consideration.  Please bear with me and my iPhone.

In the first picture I saw this bee with a spot on its back on a sweet pea flower (right center of picture)in my yard.  It's not a great shot to identify the bee with but I noticed a spot on its back.  From what I can find online this may be a female common bumble bee.  

Back on June 30 spouse and I were admiring fireflies (perhaps you call them lightning bugs or lightning beetles) in our back yard.  I wondered if I could take nighttime pictures of them.  I doubted it because they blink on and off.  What my iPhone 13 mini did puzzled me but some quick research told me the camera had automatically shifted into something called Night Mode and applied a one second apeture opening.  Since my phone wasn't on a tripod the fireflies just show as streaks.  I applied a B&W filter (Black and white) which I hoped made the points of light more visible.  The fireflies appear as white dots in the photo.

Here's another attempt.  I left this one in color and, again, the white specs are fireflies.   found out, after the fact, that I could have made a time lapse video instead but that may have come out even worse.  I really need to study iPhone photography.

My next Wordless Wednesday post will be on July 31.  

Joining up with Sandee at Comedy Plus for #WordlessWednesday.

Shadow and Hummingbird Moth #ShadowshotSunday

This past Monday, my spouse was watering my hanging baskets when he spied this unusual (for us) sight:  a hummingbird moth feeding on a basket of million bells.

Look on the left middle and you'll see two yellow stripes.  That's the moth.  There are also some small shadows in the picture.

Spouse even took video of the moth (accidentally!) but the last time I tried to upload video to You Tube, I couldn't even figure out how to do it anymore.  It used to be so easy but I last did it five or more years ago.

Joining Lisa's Garden Adventures this first summer Sunday in June for her #ShadowshotSunday.

Hummingbird Moth #WordlessWednesday

A sad morning - last evening, while my spouse was watching a baseball game, we heard of the death of Willie Mays, a baseball legend of my childhood, and one of the greatest players of all time, at age 93.  I will blog about him later this week.  

Now,  to my already written post.

Have you ever heard of a hummingbird moth?

I saw one for the first time back in the 1980's when I lived in Arkansas.  I was positive I had seen a hummingbird but something seemed a little off.  A neighbor told me what I had seen.  It's easy to be fooled.  They hover like hummingbirds, although they are also smaller.

I've seen them a handful of times where I live now in New York State.

My spouse was out watering my hanging baskets (thank you!) a couple of days ago when he saw this on a basket of million bells (look on the upper right and you'll see a pair of yellow semi-circular stripes and the wings).  My apologies for not having better closeups.

Moved onto a low flower on the left.

One more capture on the left. You can see the stripes against the green basket.

Joining Sandee at Comedy Plus for her #WordlessWednesday.

 

Spring Mystery #WordlessWednesday

It's time to party.  Spring is here.  It's really here.

It got up to 61F (16.1 C) yesterday.

My crocuses are blooming or nearly ready to.  I have buds on a couple of daffodils.  Tulip leaves are poking above the soil.  We may have chives ready to eat in another week.

But spring also has a mystery for me.

For years, I've wondered what this insect is.  I'm thinking it may be something called a stonefly.

Years ago, when we had almost constant snow cover, these were the first insects we saw.  They reliably showed up in March and would walk on the surface of the snow.

Now the ground is bare part of the month, and I wonder - do they miss the snow?

One even landed on me while I was outside yesterday on my laptop and listening to the birds sing their spring songs.  

Does anyone know what this insect is?  I'd like to finally solve this mystery.

To all those in the Northern Hemisphere, I wish a happy spring.

Joining Sandee at Comedy Plus for her #WordlessWednesday.

Hummingbird Moth #WordlessWednesday

Years ago, when I lived in Arkansas, I saw what looked like a hummingbird feeding from some of my flowers.  But I was told by someone it wasn't a hummingbird - it was a moth.

I've seen hummingbird moths a handful of times since, including earlier this month.

In the first picture, the moth is blurred.  If you look in the center of the photo and then slightly to the right, between two pinkish red flowers you will see two clear wings, and a blurry body.

This capture is better.  Still not great, but the moth was not cooperating.  The moth is lower than center, still kind-of in the lower center.  I tried to figure out how to insert an arrow into the blog, but it would involve html programming, which I do not know. 

What I think this moth is (after some research) is a "hummingbird clearwing" and, if you are curious, here is more about this moth.  

Like hummingbirds, they feed on nectar but are smaller than hummingbirds.  Like hummingbirds, they also fly during the day.

What an exciting find.

Joining Sandee at Comedy Plus for her #WordlessWednesday.

The Beginning of the End Song

This has become one of my annual posts.

I've heard the first cricket of 2021, the crickets of the second year of the pandemic.

It was just for a moment, on Thursday, that I thought I heard the sound.  On Friday I heard it again.  My spouse kept saying no, I don't hear it.  Then, Sunday, the same discussion.  There was  a buzzing in the air.  But yesterday, it was official.  I heard the song.  No mistaking.

In a way, I dread the first cricket song, because it means winter is on its way.

I've been tracking when I've heard the first crickets since I started to blog in 2009.  Here is my post from 2019, complete with links to the previous posts tracking first cricket song dates.

For 2020, the date was Thursday, July 23.  For 2021, I'm calling the date July 26..

So, why track this date?  In the pandemic, many of us continue to take comfort watching nature, be it birds, flying insects, or sunrises and sunsets.  With change all around us, nature is a constant, and keeps on keeping on paying little attention to us.

 

Which, maybe is why we have three bird feeders in our backyard today. And why, on my walks, I look for butterflies to photograph.   I am learning more about hummingbirds each day, a bird that continues to fascinate both my spouse and me.

My 30-something son calls us "old".  I call it "refreshing my interests".  If that makes me old, so be it.

And then, there is the human desire to keep records, which is why I write this annual post.

As I blogged in 2019:

"My blog, with the Garden Bloggers Bloom Day meme I participate in each 15th of the month, has become a kind of garden journal.  I'm no good at diaries or journals, but blogging is something I do keep up with. For now, anyway."

So, what does this pattern of dates mean?  Not much, perhaps.  You can see that my dates are all over the place.

But for now, I have heard the crickets, and I know the end of summer is approaching. Maybe it's still a few months away, although frost threatened us last September.

Also, COVID-19 is spiking once again.  Once again, we face the possibility of a fall and winter to dread.

I can only hope that this period in our history will, one day, be just another fact in the history books.  In the meantime, I will study the hummingbirds, try to ID butterflies, and listen to the song of the crickets.

Pandemic Crickets and Day Lilies

I've heard the first cricket of 2020, the cricket of the pandemic.

It was just for a moment, on Thursday.  On Friday I heard it again.  My spouse kept saying no, it's a bird. Then, today, the same discussion.  There is a buzzing in the air.  I know, though, if it wasn't today, Thursday or Friday,we'd be hearing the first cricket soon.

In a way, I dread the first cricket song, because it means winter is on its way.

I've been tracking when I've heard the first crickets since I started to blog in 2009.  Here is my post from 2019, complete with links to the previous posts tracking first cricket dates.

For 2020, the date will be Thursday, July 23, and I stick with it.

So, why track this date?  In the pandemic, many of us take comfort watching nature, be it birds, flying insects, or sunrises and sunsets.  With change all around us, nature is a constant, and keeps on keeping on paying little attention to us.

And then, there is the human desire to keep records.

As I blogged in 2019:

"My blog, with the Garden Bloggers Bloom Day meme I participate in each 15th of the month, has become a kind of garden journal.  I'm no good at diaries or journals, but blogging is something I do keep up with. For now, anyway.

So, what does this pattern of dates mean?  Not much, perhaps. 

But for now, I know the end of summer is approaching."  With the end of summer, all the outdoor accommodations (outdoor dining, and, soon, outdoor movies and even a wrestling exhibition) our area of upstate New York has made for the pandemic will be closing in on the end of their season. 

These day lilies in my flower garden, though, teach us a lesson because each flower only lasts one day.

Nothing is forever.

A couple of more day lilies for your pleasure.

And now, back to enjoying summer.

Sustainable Saturday - Woolly Bear

Woolly bear, woolly bear, what is your weather prediction today?

Vestal Rail Trail, Vestal, New York, mid October 2018

Will we have a severe winter?  Or will it be mild?

In folklore, there is a belief that woolly bear caterpillars can predict the weather.

So, what is a woolly bear caterpillar and how do they predict the weather?  

You are looking at one of nature's marvels.  This is the larva of a moth that will hibernate later in fall, and sleep through the winter.  In fact, it can survive temperatures of up to -90 F (-67 C).

According to the Farmers Almanac:
"Woolly bear caterpillars turn into the Isabella tiger moth (Pyrrharctia Isabella). You can recognize these moths by their yellowy-orange coloration, black legs, and small black spots on wings and thorax. The Isabella tiger moth (Pyrrharctia Isabella) emerges in the spring."

Yes, come spring, the larva will wake up when the temperatures approach 50 degrees.  

See the orange band?  The narrower it is, the harsher the coming winter is supposed to be.

Folklore since our colonial days (prior to around 1776) has held that the woolly bears can predict the weather.  In 1948, according to the Farmer's Almanac, a scientific study was held at Bear Mountain, New York (in the southeastern part of New York State not that far from New York City) which seems to bear this out.  No puns intended, of course.

I seem to think that the orange band of the ones I see are the same size each year, regardless of what the winter turns out to be.

So, what our winter be like?  All I can say is, I wish we had some fall first!

Do you think woolly bears can predict the coming winter?

Day 27 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge #blogboost

The Saddest Day of Summer

I've used my seven years of blogging to track when I hear the first crickets chirping each year.

The chirp of the crickets is the first sign of fall coming, and it always makes me a little sad.  I like to think summer is endless.  What a fantasy (here in upstate New York.)

This year, I heard crickets, for the first time, on July 18.  The earliest ever, although I must add that I only heard them in one location.  But this morning, I opened my door to get the paper and heard the chirps. "C-Day" is official.

Here are some cricket milestones of the past:

July 29, 2009
July 30, 2011 
then, there were two dates in 2012, perhaps due to an early spring
May 21, 2012
July 25, 2012
August 3, 2014
July 28, 2015 

Actually, something similar happened in July of 2010, but they were here for good by July 22.  Incidentally, that's one reason why I like to blog - the blog becomes a kind of garden journal.  I'm no good at diaries or journals, but blogging is something I do keep up with.  At least for now.

In April of this year, I participated in the Blogging from A to Z Challenge. My theme was (based on a soap opera theme)  "Like sands through the hourglass, so are the Days of our Lives".  Crickets don't tend to have a long life span - different species may live anywhere from three months to a year, or so I've read.

The day lilies I love don't live long, either.  Each bloom only lasts a single day, teaching us not to live in the past or the future.  Live only in the present, and look at the beauty around you each day.  And speaking of which, sometime this week, I will post even more lily pictures.

Until then, enjoy the chirp of the cricket, if they are chirping where you live.

Simply Summer - What Will Bee Will Bee

There is a definite shortage of honeybees this summer.  Several people I know are complaining, for example, that their zucchini are flowering but not setting fruit.  Last year, for a similar reason, we had problems with cucumbers.

What I am seeing a lot of this year is bumblebees.  I did a little search online, and found an article discussing the role of bumblebees as pollinators in New York City community gardens.  So perhaps all these bumblebees are trying to pick up where our honeybees have failed - for reasons we still don't fully understand.  And it isn't just us-bee decline is hitting other parts of the world, such as the United Kingdom.

But, I can be encouraged by all the bumblebees I've seen recently.  Here are some pictures taken in the last few days-on ornamentals, for the most part, but still.  To paraphrase one of my favorite commercials "Roll that beautiful bee footage".

Bee on one of my basils.

Bee on an echinacea plant on the West side of Binghamton, New York.

And a bee on a sweet pea, again in Binghamton.

But where are the honeybees?  I think I found one - or at least a bee that wasn't a bumblebee.  I'm the first to admit I'm no expert on bees, as much as I love gardening, and as much as I depend on them.

So here she be, whatever kind of bee she is.

And with this post, I end another Ultimate Blog Challenge.  I'm also proud to say I completed Camp NaNoWriMo, and added another 10,000 words to my memoir - although most of it wasn't the "chicken memoir" part of my life.

Have you seen the decline in honeybees in your area? And, were you aware that bumblebees are in decline, too?

Its scary.

Sustainable Saturday - Deciphering The Messages of Nature

A Saturday, just before a cold spell of weather supposed to be coming our way.

Part of the sustainable lifestyle is paying attention to the messages Nature is trying to send us.  Nature does communicate with us (I won't want to get all woo-woo here) and we do not listen to Nature at our peril.

Here it is, January 19 in upstate NY.  It is in the 40's (again, after it cooled down and we got snow a couple of times this week) and the snow is melting.

So, spouse and I came home from our food shopping, and what did I see as I walked to our front door but a flying insect. (!)  It looked like a large mosquito.

We do have something we call snow bugs that used to come out in the February snow, but I haven't seen them in a few years.  This hopefully, was not a termite.

When I went to the back yard to see if we did have snow bugs, I first looked around, at the beauty of the view of the creek behind our house, near its merge point with the Susquehanna River:

And then, I saw this, on the steps to my back door:

A January fly! In upstate NY! Even in last year's mild winter I never saw one, although, of course, that doesn't mean they weren't there.

Then I looked a little closer.  In the melting snow, the garlic foliage was still green, and I saw something sprouting.  Not a winter bulb - could have been an onion missed from last year, or more garlic.

But sprouting it was, nevertheless.

I am trying to figure out this message from Nature.  I do know those early insects may have a short life.  By Tuesday we are going to have highs in the teens F. (the minus teens, for those using Celsius).

What are your messages from Nature where you live?  Are things "out of whack"?

Spring Things - Fall in Spring?

It was such an early spring in upstate NY.  We had crocuses blooming in mid-March.  We had forsythias in late March.  We had trees leafed out in April (just in time for a snowstorm that hit not too far away from here).  We are still running a good two weeks ahead on some blooms.

And now, on May 19, it is apparently time for fall.  Is it my imagination, or...?

Exhibit 1:  this wildflower picture taken in Otsiningo Park on the edge of Binghamton, NY.

You may think there is nothing remarkable about this picture (which could have been of better quality, I admit.) But, unless I am mistaken - these are wild asters.

Fall asters.  Maybe New England asters, maybe not (I am not a wildflower expert).  But fall asters nevertheless.

As in "they bloom in late summer".

This is not late summer.  We are still a month from summer.

I looked online, and I didn't see much on spring asters - although, it may be possible.  (Anyone out there know?)

Exhibit 2:

Crickets.
I have blogged about crickets more than once.  To me, crickets are the shadow that falls on summer.  
When you hear crickets, what I call "late summer" has begun.  It's nature's call to fall letting fall know it is nearly time to start entering the play of nature.

I heard crickets on May 21, 2012, on the Vestal Rail Trail.

They are not cicadas.  We do get 17 year cicadas here.  I couldn't find, on line, forecasts of cicadas emerging this year.  And, they have a different sound.  A friend of mine, who lives in the countryside about 10 miles from here, verified that she has heard crickets at her house, too.

Can the goldenrod be far behind?

Will we have snow in August?

I am starting to get this....very......bad.....feeling.  Mother Nature is confused.  Very confused.  And that can't be good.

Are you seeing any fall insects or wildflowers where you live?

Name that Bite!

Before I get into my itchy dilemma, I must brag:  The Blogathon has ended.  I've blogged for 31 days straight.  (Actually, 33 days so far, and counting.)  I have my badge!  It is well earned, and I will be displaying it proudly on my blog.

Now:  I also have about eight assorted insect bites, which I must have gotten while taking photos for my blog.  We've been getting so much rain, I shouldn't be surprised that I've been bitten up.  I have bites on my legs, my arms, my torso.  A couple are near places I can't even mention in a family blog.   A country-living friend identified one on my chest as a blackfly bite.  Some of the others, I've tried to figure out via the internet, but all I know is that they are painful...and itchy as heck.   They aren't mosquito bites. (it's probably a little too early for them, anyway.)  The worst one is on my left arm.  It has two painful pimple like things surrounded by a big raised circular itchy-as-heck welt.  It isn't infected (I read up on that.) just itchy.

I asked my friend "what should I put on these"  Her response:  Witch Hazel.

So, after itching (and itching) at work yesterday, I stopped at CVS on the way home, and bought some witch hazel and cottom balls.  So far, the witch hazel seems to be working on all but the one really big spot on my left arm.  I took some Benadryl as a last resort.  I don't know if it really worked.  Things seem slightly better this morning.

I'm not about to take a picture of my arm and post it.  Although, if the Blogathon was still going on, maybe I would have.

I wish I knew what bit me up.

Sometimes, I hate spring.

Scratch scratch itch.