Lobelia erinus (Blue Cascade) & Calibrachoa hybrid (Yellow) 
"To analyze the charms of flowers is like dissecting music; it is one of those things which it is far better to enjoy, than to attempt to fully understand." ~ Henry T. Tuckerman.
I have never been a real fan of annuals; those flowers that do not survive the cooler zones of winter. I've never loved the cycle that the yard guy does in the front beds... spring brings the impatiens or vincas and fall brings the pansies. For one thing, the impatiens don't really love the sun that much and they don't seem to spread well. In Mississippi, our house had quite a few trees which made growing a good lawn a problem (St. Augustine was almost the only grass to grow under those pines), but the impatiens grew and spread, sometimes to three feet tall and a few plants would fill an entire square bed, hiding the boxwoods. Not here. They don't really start filling out -- if they survive the heat and my antipathy towards them -- until September or October when it finally begins to cool off and at their height of blooming, the yard guy comes along and rudely pulls them up. He replaces them with pansies. Now, I love pansies much more than the impatiens; still, while pansies may bloom her in winter, they are wimpy. They really don't like the cold that comes with snow and spend much of the winter looking wilted or frost bit. It really is the spring... usually here this includes late February and March, perhaps into April... where they are at their best. I have managed to nurse a few along in a pot on the deck, but now in June, even these are on their last leg and wobbling. In the front beds, the pansies only start looking really good and trying to spread when March gets here. And again, at the height of their beauty, they are snatched up and replaced in May. The endless cycle. It seems wrong. And so this is why I seldom plant annuals... at least knowingly.
When Stephen was here, he found this hanging basket of bright yellow million bells (I think a petunia relative), blue lobelia and (not pictured) red flowers (the name escapes me.. this happens more and more with each passing year.. though I doubt I ever knew the name of the red flowers). They are all annuals and won't make it until next summer, but I have to admit they are beautiful. Downside... must be watered every day and I mean, everyday. You cannot be two hours late before they start to wilt. It must be something about the planter they are in because I have a homemade basket of million bells and petunias that is not this sensitive.
I love to see the plants and don't mind pruning back or deadheading (except tickweed which is tedious), but I really like to plant only once and then watch as the little shoots and stems poke through the ground in spring again. I tend to look like a giant mudball when planting, not my favorite thing to be. So I tend to plant perennials. However, this year the monarch and black swallowtail have been slower to show up and my fennel is six feet tall, just waiting for some caterpillars and the milkweed overfloweth and the bees of all types are having orgies in the bee balm and lavender and agastache. So where are they? On the annuals. On this plant.
Black Swallowtail with red... verbena?
Perhaps I SHOULD plant a few more annuals... sigh.
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Mellow Yellow Monday
Ruby Tuesday


Remnants of last season.... beginning again. Black swallowtail butterfly. 
"I've watched you now a full half-hour,
Self-poised upon that yellow flower;
And, little Butterfly! indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless!---not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!"
~ William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850)
Last October, six black swallowtail caterpillars, the last of the season... wove their chrysalides in the small aquarium sitting in my sunroom. Five days past.. then ten... then a full month... and it became obvious that these six were not going to emerge until spring. Days and weeks and months passed; the sticks with five brown and one green chrysalides simply ..."were". Two attached to the mesh cover and the rest to small twigs. A couple of the twigs had to be taped to larger sticks to fit into the empty flower pot in the aquarium. Those black swallowtail that overwinter usually start emerging in mid to late April, but one adventuresome fellow suddenly emerged in early April... really too soon, especially this year. The day was cold and wet and I kept him inside as long as possible before placing him in the drying mesh lid we used last year. An hour or so later, he was gone... I fear for his survival as there were so few flowers blooming and it was really cold. So, for the other five... I covered the aquarium with a dark towel for a few weeks... the length of the day, the light is the trigger for their emergence not the temperature.
Three more butterflies have successfully emerged, inflated their wings, practiced their wing style and spent time resting in the welcome mesh outpost. They have long since gone... but I did notice the tiny eggs on the fennel and several small caterpillars in various stages already eating the now abundant fine foliage. Sadly, the fifth butterfly was deformed and couldn't inflate the wings..... it died quickly. So now there is one left. It still has several days to emerge and still be within the normal time.... we will see. Soon, we will be breaking out the incubators for both the black swallowtail and the monarchs.
And an update on the monarch caterpillars already on the milkweed.... as last year, the first crop of caterpillars mysteriously disappeared. Only one managed to grow fairly large and I was thinking of bringing it inside for the last couple of days before transformation... but this morning it was dead. I do hope the parasite that invaded them at the end of the season is not still around. As yet, I have not seen any adults.
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Nature's Notes
Twenty caterpillars, already!!! 
"There is nothing in a caterpillar that tells you it's going to be a butterfly." ~ Richard Buckminster Fuller
My brother is here... it is a busy and too short time of being together, laughing, working, planting... and yes, buying another Japanese maple tree. Just before he arrived I was looking over the flower beds marveling that just weeks before, except for the parsley and fennel and the evergreens, these beds were simply mulch where plants once grew. And then, remarkably, they began to return.. slowly at first but then almost changing each day. A few will not return and I don't know why... a few, I am still holding out hope for. The milkweed are slow to emerge and then grow more rapidly. I was watching them inch up towards the sky, each day a little more. Then I saw some leaves with holes and ragged edges and I thought... "My, these look really ratty... and still they are so short." A closer look showed why... and when I checked all the milkweed it was the same.... little one-half inch long green, yellow, black and white striped caterpillars. I haven't seen any returning Monarch butterflies, but they have slipped in and laid the eggs and so the cycle of life begins.
By the way, of the six black swallowtail chrysalides that overwintered in the sunroom... one emerged on a cold and rainy day, a little too early.... another emerged on time, dried and flew off. Four have not changed, but still a couple of weeks remain in their time frame. I haven't seen these butterflies around either, but I see that the fennel already has a lot of tiny eggs on it. This year I have planted more fennel behind our fence, near the preserve. I want to have a yard that is awash and a flutter with butterflies so thick you can hardly take a step without seeing one. Sigh. Perhaps.
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Nature's Notes
Needed this winter? A zest of color.
(Click picture to enlarge) 
"You'd be so lean, that blast of January
Would blow you through and through. Now, my fair'st friend,
I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might
Become your time of day."
~ William Shakespeare, The Winter's Tale, Act IV Scene 4.
The clouds have morphed from gray to fluffy cotton ball white and bright blue sky shows through. Sunshine has melted most of the thin ice layer and sublimation has revealed most interesting crystal patterns in that ice which remains. Tiny shards of ice are scattered all over the concrete driveway and on the deck, almost as if miniature icicles were blown apart by the west winds. It is still cold. Again, our forecasters were overly optimistic about that.. it did not reach 40℉... almost, but not quite and here we sit again in the 30's.
Even though the skies are blue and the sun shining yellow.. we could use more color in the flower beds. Right now the bulb and seed and plant catalogues are arriving and I must be content with these.... and the pictures from last summer. So, my submissions for the letter "Z" form a "zest" of color. The "zinnia" pictured were an afterthought. I had tilled up the edge of our no man's land between the fence and the preserve with its creeping rhizomes of wild cane and extra clay mixed with sand and dirt had been dumped there from the excavation of the most recent dry well. Not wanting to deal with the army of ticks that patrol that wilderness, I simply scattered a box of very old wildflower seed along the edge and covered it with a light dusting of leftover compost. The zinnia were the only flowers to germinate and grow, though looking quite scraggly, they grew and bloomed... and bloomed... and bloomed, well into October with bright yellows, deep reds, hot pinks and Tennessee orange petals. They finally succumbed to the cold north wind of November, but it was the first snow of December that finished them off.
The zebra swallowtail visited the zinnia, as well as the other flowers in our garden. Its cousins, the black swallowtail and tiger swallowtail were more commonly sighted; perhaps we can include some of the "zebra's" host plants this year.
"Z" was a hard word... I haven't been to a "zoo" recently to see any "zebra" of the horse family, although sometimes it feels like we have our own "zoo" right here, or perhaps it should be called the "Ziegfeld" follies!
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Monarch Magic 
"Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you." ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne
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ABC Wednesday "M"
Wordless Wednesday
Cloudless Sulfur (Phoebis sennae)
(Click pictures to enlarge)
"Butterflies are self propelled flowers." ~ R.H. Heinlein
These are the "Butterflies of August", the Cloudless Sulfurs. Yes, they flitter around earlier in July and a few in June, but August is their month to flourish. Most often you see them in pairs or even groups as they compete for the lantana or blue-mist flowers or the joe-pye weed. These are the mid-sized models, with wingspans from 2¼ to 3⅛ inches and soft bright yellow wings. The male usually has unmarked wings and the female has two rounded spots on the hindwing and one on the forewing. Of all the butterflies, these are the most infuriating to photograph. They are skiddish and only light for a fraction of a second on any plant, as if to say "I want to taste everything in the yard before making my final selection." And when they do finally come to a moment of stillness, you have to be quick and use a long lens or all you see in the shot is a blur of wings at the edge of the viewfinder. This group rarely sits and flexes the wings open in display, so you get what you get.
Sitting out on the deck you watch their mid-air dance... two dancing flowers whirling round and round as they float upwards into the sky and back again. Add four more couples and you have a full airborne ballet. I remember the first August in this house. The fence was not in and the yard was simply weeds, struggling to survive; the invasive cane in the preserve encroached on the property line and we had one stand of joe-pye weed packed between the cane stalks. Early in the morning as the sun came up over the rooftop of the house, the Sulfurs would gather at the joe-pye weed and have breakfast. They came in droves, sometimes as many as ten or twelve drinking the nectar at once and it seemed to make them almost drunk; never since have I seen so many together and so still and quiet.
Gathering at the Joe-Pye Weed. August 2007
In June and July of this year, the Candy Lily pictured below, became the high end dining experience for the Sulfurs as well as other butterflies and the hummingbirds. In August and early September, as the numbers increased they branched out to the lantana and the blue-mist bush (caryopteris). These are reported to be permanent residents from Argentina to the Deep South here but I have found nothing about any migrating behavior.
Cloudless Sulfur blending in with the Candy Lily 
Next season I would like to again have joe-pye weed growing as well as the Cloudless Sulfur caterpillar host plant, Cassia alata. We'll see what happens.
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Pearl Crescent Butterfly, Phyciodes tharos
(Click pictures to enlarge)
"Beautiful and graceful, varied and enchanting, small but approachable, butterflies lead you to the sunny side of life. And everyone deserves a little sunshine." ~ Jeffrey Glassberg
I know you must be getting tired of seeing my butterflies, but we are trying to hang on to a little summer sunshine here in the early days of fall. I have shown you many of our large visitors and thought we might look at some of the smaller varieties today. These are the butterflies that sometimes seem to show up in swarms but are small enough to be overlooked; and yet, they have the most intricate patterns and coloring that rivals that of the largest Eastern Tiger Swallowtail.
First we have the Pearl Crescent, a diminutive creature with a wingspan between 1¼ and 1¾ inches. Small in size but with quite the punch of color in shades of orange, pale yellow and striking black. All along the upper side edge of the wings are small scalloped pale yellow crescents... hence the name Pearl Crescent. The underside of the wings has a lacy pattern that reminds me of the cloud tops, looking down on them from an airplane or teeny scoops of lemon custard layered one after the other. These tiny titans produce several broods between April and November in the north and may live year 'round in the deep south and Mexico. The caterpillar host plants are asters and they sip nectar from a wide variety of plants. Here we see them on the black-eyed susan, butterfly bush, heliotrope, lantana, coneflowers, milkweed, and on a really unusual but gorgeous plant... the candy lily.
Lace-winged Roadside-Skipper, Amblyscirtes aesculapius 
The Lace-winged Roadside-Skipper is slightly smaller than the Pearl Crescent and in a different family. They have a wing-span of 1⅛ to 1½ inches. The dusty fringe on the wingtips is checkered black and white. These butterflies typically sit with their wings held together and rarely flex them open while feeding. The underwing is dark brown with a cobweb pattern in white or yellow with just a hint of mint green and the eyes are big and dark brown to black. I planted an annual heliotrope this year which had clusters of dark purple to blue flowers that give off a heavenly fragrance of cherry vanilla and these little ones loved it along with the agastache and the lantana. These Skippers are more common in North Carolina than Virginia, but we are so close to the state line that they show up here as well. I think they love the preserve with the humid air, dense wood and that horrid wild cane stuff that drives me crazy each summer. In fact, the cane is probably their caterpillar host plant, although I have never seen the caterpillars. They fly from March to September and have disappeared for the fall and winter already.
We still haven't reviewed all the butterfly species that graced our yard this summer. I would imagine that there are many of the tiny varieties that I missed entirely. As for the final report on the Monarchs. We took 80 Monarch caterpillars to the botanical gardens when I ran out of milkweed for them. I also took another 35 early instar Monarch caterpillars so they could be raised for the release that took place this morning. The botanical gardens released 300 tagged Monarchs for their migration to Mexico... may they all find wonderful nectar along the way. As for those we raised here... a total of 105 were raised and released. This is in addition to the 40 Black Swallowtail butterflies also raised and released. We had quite the nursery going this summer and on the days when ten Monarchs emerged and dried and then fluttered up around my head to flitter off to the forest... well, that was a heavenly feeling.
Saturday Photo Hunt.... "Natural"
Nature Notes

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Zebra Swallowtail (Eurytides marcellus)
(Click pictures to enlarge)
"May the wings of the butterfly kiss the sun
And find your shoulder to light on,
To bring you luck, happiness and riches
Today, tomorrow and beyond."
~ Irish Blessing
This is the Zebra Swallowtail butterfly. We saw only a couple of these this summer as they paused to drink from the lantana and the butterfly bush. Flying horses... or zebra.. the black and white stripes are very distinctive even when they only land on a flower for mere seconds. I noticed that the hind wings were not as open and on display as those of their cousins, the black swallowtail or the eastern tiger swallowtail; this made them a bit triangular and by keeping the hind wings together, they reveal only a splash of red. Our area is prime for these, being near the Great Dismal Swamp and with woodlands. The caterpillars eat primarily leaves of the paw-paw and I haven't seen one around here... so, the paw-paw is on my list of plantings adjacent to the preserve. Hopefully, these will become more frequent visitors. By the way... the flowers in the first picture are Asclepias tuberosa, orange butterfly weed.
Sharp long tail... similar in appearance to the swallows. Hence the name, swallowtail. 
Today is my mother's birthday! She is 82 years young and if the weather holds as nice as it is, I hope to take her to the botanical garden tomorrow morning. She has been watching our Monarchs emerge from their chrysalides for the last week... everyday asking.. "How many have you birthed today?" Watching the process is amazing for any age.
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Ruby Tuesday
One or two "admirals"?
(Click pictures to enlarge)
“The world is a looking-glass, and gives back to every man the reflection of his own face. Frown at it, and it will in turn look sourly upon you; laugh at it and with it, and it is a jolly kind companion.” ~ William Makepeace Thackeray
I have been trying to write this post for three days... in between small odd chores. It hasn't happened. Sometimes the thoughts just dry up and the brain goes into hibernation and everything else simply switches to automatic pilot mode. It didn't matter the time of day or the day of the week or whether I was rested or tired.. there just wasn't anything there. Almost everything is revolving around these butterflies right now.. well, not THIS butterfly, as it is a Red Admiral.. but around the Monarchs. I had 91 chrysalides and they have been emerging for the last week.. between 6 - 10 a day. Twenty or so of them should emerge just at the right time to begin migration on the 20th. As they emerge, I put them in a makeshift drying area where they can flit off up to the trees whenever they feel like it. I think that several have felt the way I do... they really cannot get their act together in the usual two hour slot of time that is average for wing pumping and drying. In fact, a few would hang around forever if not pushed just a little bit.
I saw this Red Admiral butterfly out on the flowers of the butterfly bush (buddleia) and when I tried to take his picture, he flittered up to the railing of the deck. Our railing is a powder coated aluminum and has a shiny top coat. Surely, the butterfly did not see this other critter at his feet... but I did. How interesting to see the butterfly prance its delicate feet with a perfect dance partner. He sat and stretched his wings, giving a great perspective... the camera could see both sides of the wing at once. Perhaps he could see his reflection in the white fencing... making me wonder... did he admire those bright stripes?
An "admiring admiral" indeed. 
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Carmi's Theme "Reflective"
Eastern Tiger Swallowtail, sipping a little lavender nectar.
(Click pictures to enlarge)
"Bees sip honey from flowers and hum their thanks when they leave. The gaudy butterfly is sure that the flowers owe thanks to him." ~ Rabindranath Tagore, Stray Birds
Tiger swallowtail butterflies regularly visit the lantana and lavender for nectar around our house. They are larger than the black swallowtail and fly high into the trees of the preserve. Host plants for the caterpillars are primarily trees and shrubs such as the tulip tree, sweet bay, wild black cherry, ash, lilac, aspen, birch, or choke cherry and we don't have any in our yard, but at least one of these trees should be out in the preserve. After the experience with fennel and black swallowtails, I'm glad we don't have the host plants.
August is "butterfly month" 
This has been a bumper year for butterflies here. Perhaps the heat, perhaps planting the flowers.. who knows exactly why, but there have been at least ten different varieties of butterflies in our yard... sometimes all at the same time. I love to sit on the deck and watch as two or three flit and dance together in mid-air or tease me by flying around my head. Unbelievable beauty in such a delicate package. Amazing!
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Skeletal remains of the fennel with the culprits in plain view.... black swallowtail caterpillars.
(Click pictures to enlarge)
"Teaching a child not to step on a caterpillar is as valuable to the child as it is to the caterpillar." ~ Bradley Millar
August is "butterfly" month; the time of year when butterflies are in the passion of procreation at a heated pitch. Some are laying eggs to hatch and enter the chrysalis stage to overwinter and others are seeking to create the population that will migrate south. I am overrun.... with caterpillars. To date, we have had three batches of black swallowtails take flight.... total number 24. They have completely destroyed three dill plants and almost did the fennel in back in early July. The fennel rebounded after clever, or at least partially clever netting of the plant (Except for that one female that somehow found a way under the net), and by removing the eggs as soon as they were deposited. I also admit that I removed small caterpillars and put them in the bird feeder for the somewhat stupid goldfinch who can't seem to realize that they have a smorgasbord of live protein just a few feet from the thistle. Still when she moved to the parsley, I relented and we even bought parsley bunches at the store to take care of the caterpillars we brought inside.
In the last week, the swallowtails have gone nuts and I could not keep up with the monitoring and they have now destroyed the parsley, yes really, it is just sticks... no leaves. The fennel was on its last lap and loaded as pictured with caterpillars in all instar stages.
But it wasn't just the swallowtails.
Monarch caterpillar... a milkweed eating machine 
To date we have had fourteen Monarchs emerge and take flight. Four are ready to emerge any morning now. The Monarchs only eat milkweed. I planted a bucket load of milkweed and different varieties. Some bloomed with orange flowers and had smaller plants and leaves. Others grew tall and almost bushy and did not bloom at all this year. Most of these I grew from seed. I put six groupings of plants in the flower beds and another three groupings of milkweed out next to the preserve. It took me most of the summer to be able to see the tiny single eggs the Monarch lays and it was not until July that we saw the caterpillars. I would look and look and suddenly there they were, large and eating up a storm. I have cut the milkweed back after they have stripped the leaves and it re-grows the leaves, but in the last two weeks the Monarchs seem to be in a frenzy, just as the others. So, I started bringing in caterpillars and setting up new houses and used an old cracked plastic fish tank and screen lid to start another and I have cut milkweed and cut milkweed and still they show up. In addition to the four chrysalides that are ready to emerge I have 18 in newly formed chrysalides and over 25 still eating. They can go through six large sprigs of milkweed leaves in one night. And still I found more and more caterpillars.
Monday it became clear that the milkweed would not make it through until the last group hatched and emerged and the Monarch left for migration. My largest patch of milkweed was completely stripped of the leaves and like the fennel, only skeletal remains of the stems were seen. Poor caterpillars were walking on the ground to try and find more milkweed. I called the Norfolk Botanical Garden and asked if they needed any.... no, but I could bring them and put them out in the outdoor butterfly garden. They had milkweed but they would have to fend for themselves in nature. I called the Butterfly Society to see if anyone else raising them had more milkweed... but no one answered my plea.
So, yesterday morning, Stephen and I went to the botanical garden. I took two containers with screened lids. I collected the black swallowtail first. They don't like to be handled so I cut the fennel they were attached to off into the container. I got them off the parsley and removed all the remaining eggs I could find. In total there were 32 black swallowtail caterpillars. Most were in the middle to late instars. Then I started gathering the Monarchs. I had told the lady at the botanical garden that I thought we had about 30 Monarch caterpillars still outside but I was wrong... really, really wrong. When I had collected all that I could find, they numbered 80.
At the botanical garden, they pointed me to the huge patch of fennel and we let the black swallowtails go on the leaves and on the ground at the base of the fennel. I think the sheer number of the Monarchs took the lady by surprise and she suggested we put them out in the wild butterfly maze. It was a different type of milkweed with large pods, native but invasive. The Monarchs are better behaved than the swallowtails and the caterpillars will walk onto your finger and then on to the plant. We tried to spread them out a bit but I know that within a few days that patch of milkweed will look dilapidated. Even though they had to endure a long moving experience and new and different tasting milkweed and even though they too have to brave the elements in their quest to become regal butterflies, at least they won't go hungry.
Of course, when I returned home, I had to clean out all the caterpillar frass (poop) from the (now) four butterfly houses in the sunroom and cut more stems and leaves to feed the ones I kept. In the process, I found five more that somehow hid away from me in the morning morning and magically appeared last night. I check every milkweed leaf for eggs and brush them off now.
Oh, some of the wild milkweed pods were breaking open, so I took some seed. The garden lady said this was "sneaky" invasive, so we are going to plant them out at the edge of the preserve... along the road and on the other side of our section. Perhaps then we will be able to handle the numbers next year.
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A lady in waiting... an American Lady butterfly. (Vanessa virginiensis)
(Click pictures to enlarge)
"I've watched you now a full half-hour;
Self-poised upon that yellow flower
And, little Butterfly! Indeed
I know not if you sleep or feed.
How motionless! - not frozen seas
More motionless! and then
What joy awaits you, when the breeze
Hath found you out among the trees,
And calls you forth again!"
~ William Wordsworth, "To a Butterfly"
Early this summer our flowers were almost overrun by these lovely ladies, quite friendly, fluttering close to anything with color, even seersucker shirts. These are related to but slightly different from "Painted Lady" butterflies, (Vanessa cardui). The Painted Lady has four rounded "eyespots" on the under hindwing while the American has only two and they are slightly larger. There is also a slight variation to the red and black pattern on the underside of the forewing, most obvious is the small rectangular red patch with a central white dot that is typical of the American Lady. We have both here in coastal Virginia, but this year the American Lady was more prominent.
Clockwise from top left: Coneflower "Hot Summer", Lantana "Chapel Hill Gold", Lantana "Miss Huff",
Butterfly bush (Buddleia), and Coneflower "Fragrant Angel".
The information site lists the favorite nectar plants including goldenrod, marigold and milkweed. Yes, they did love the milkweed flowers, but as you can see they also adored the coneflowers, lantana, butterfly bush and the coreopsis (first picture). In fact, they feasted on most of the flowers in the beds this year. I didn't see any caterpillars on the sunflowers this year and I really didn't have any of their other favorite caterpillar host plants. It is just as well, since I am still overrun with black swallowtail and monarchs.
Coneflower "Twilight" and feasting American Lady. 
The American Lady must be in between broods right now as their numbers are down a bit. Never fear though, these are very prolific and their numbers make them, along with the Painted Lady, the most widely spread butterfly in North America.
By the way, with all our rain the last two days, the butterflies have had to find shelter. We had a break in the weather for a few hours and they exploded... Monarch, Tiger Swallowtail, Black Swallowtail, Clouded Sulfur and Pearly Crescent were all gathering nectar at the same time. I had trouble deciding which one to photograph!
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Color Carnival
Friday's Ark
