On my return from Piney Woods Church Road today, I paused along the driveway to photograph an immense American beautyberry bus (Callicarpa americana) in bloom. A Georgia native that I have seen many times further north in the state and obtained from a native plant nursery a few years back, it has taken well to our yard. I think this photograph captures the way the Lensbaby Sweet 35 optic can produce a pleasant blur in an image.
This afternoon, I ventured to Piney Woods Church Road with my Lensbaby Sweet 35 Optic for the first time. The Sweet 35 produces a “sweet spot” of focus (one that, through tilting the optic, can be shifted to any part of the frame). A well-built manual focus lens, it has a learning curve (particularly when paired with an extension ring, as I did, for macro images). It produces a lot of chromatic aberration — a “halo”, often of purple, surrounding darker objects against a bright background. At the very end of my walk, in my own yard, I finally took an image that, to me, embodies the possibilities of Lensbaby for color photography — a lovely shot of some beautyberry in bloom. Meanwhile, here is a caterpillar who I saw on the underside of a pin cherry leaf. It is almost certainly a Radcliffe’s Dagger Moth Caterpillar (Acronicta radcliffei). I took this photo with my camera pointed upward, using my tilting screen on the camera to bring the caterpillar into focus. For some reason, this photo reminds me of the hookah-smoking caterpillar from Alice in Wonderland.
I took this photograph of a tiny jumping spider (family Salticidae), maybe a quarter of an inch across (if that), looking at me from atop a rail of a rusty fence gate. A complete portrait eluded me — my subject was rather skittish. I didn’t even bother glancing at my photo the first time through today’s shots, because even with my lens in macro mode, the spider was minute in my image. I was amazed to find that it came out quite well, even after cropping practically the entire photograph away, just to get this close-up. I love this spider’s eyes.
On my way down Piney Woods Church Road this morning, I chanced upon this assassin bug perched on a tulip poplar leaf. We saw each other at about the same time. Every time I moved my camera close for a shot, the bug would slowly back up, then hide himself (herself?) on the other side of an available leaf or stem. The process was so slow that I was reminded of Japanese kabuki theater. I took many, many photos before I secured this crisp portrait. I have to confess that this insect looks almost cuddly, with its furry quality and dangling proboscis. The proboscis functions like a drinking straw; the bug attacks other insects, injecting toxin that dissolves their body cells, which the bug then drinks up. Sometimes appearances can be deceptive, though I still wouldn’t mind having one of these as a Gund.
With help from BugGuide folks on Facebook, I was later able to determine that this bug was most likely the nymph form of the Wheel Bug (Arilus cristatus).
Along Piney Woods Church Road this afternoon I glimpsed a furtive ebony jewelwing (Calopteryx maculata), a broad-winged damselfly typically encountered along woodland streams. After all the rain of late (and more predicted for this evening), this damselfly appears to have taken to wandering. He (or she) would shift perches if I came to close, so this photograph was taken with my zoom lens instead of in macro mode.
Purple is a color that usually evokes late summer: the deep, dark purple of pokeweed berries (just now coming into bloom here in Georgia) and the succulent reddish-purple of the muscadines. But even now, on the cusp of the summer solstice, the observant naturalist can discover abundant shades of purple, from pinkish tones to violet ones, on a roadside walk. A brief stroll along the road edges here in Chattahoochee Hills, Georgia, revealed enough purple tones to write about: three flowers and two early fruits. The first flash of purple was toward the pinkish-blue shade, catching the eye amongst the various greens of roadside grasses and weeds. This five-petaled beauty (shown on the left) is a hairy ruellia (Ruellia caroliniensis), also known as Carolina wild petunia. A trumpet-shaped flower about one inch across, it looks like the kind of flower that would be found on a Hawaiian lei. Indeed, the genus Ruellia is largely a tropical one. Common throughout the eastern and central U.S., this perennial wildflower bears blooms that last for only one day.
The gravel road passes through a wooded area with a canopy of loblolly pine and sweetgum, and an understory of oaks, black cherries, and persimmons. On a steep bank beside the road, in the shade, a stunning pinkish lavender flower is in bloom. Its irregular shape indicates that it is a member of the pea family (Fabaceae). Called butterfly pea (Clitoria mariana), it is a native perennial common to open areas throughout the eastern U.S. Another primarily tropical genus, Clitoria is abundant in Southeast Asia, where flowers are used for dyes and are also batter-dipped and deep-fried. Only two members of Clitoria are found in the U.S.; the second one (Clitoria fragrans) is restricted to sandlands in Florida. For those wondering, the rather racy genus name comes from the shape of the flower.
Back out into the sunlight of a steamy late June morning, and along a grassy verge, a number of tiny violet and white flowers are in bloom in a short, cylindrical spike atop a stalk about one and a half feet tall. A Eurasian roadside wildflower, heal-all (Prunella vulgaris) is a member of the mint family (Lamiaceae). As its name suggests, heal-all has been used as a traditional folk remedy for many complains. The leaf tea, for instance, was used to treat mouth sores, sore throats, fevers, and diarrhea, while a poultice from this plant has been used for treating wounds, Chemcial analysis of this plant has revealed that it contains compounds with antibiotic, anti-tumor, and hypertensive properties. It contains large quantities of a powerful antioxidant called rosmarinic acid (named for rosemary, which also contains the compound).
On the way home along the edge of a loblolly pine woods, a small dark purple fruit less than half an inch in diameter can be seen among the eliptical leaves of an understory tree. The fruit belongs to the black cherry (Prunus serotina), a much-prized deciduous tree common to the eastern and central U.S. Although the fruit is somewhat bitter, it is edible, and is often used for making wine and preserves. Birds feast on the fruits, while deer and other animals eat the leaves. Extracts of the inner bark are also used to make cough syrup. The wood of mature trees has a fine grain and rich orange-rose color, and is much valued by furniture-makers.
Not far from the black cherry tree is a dense thicket of shrubs and vines edging a roadside stream. Amongst the tangle of grape vines and elderberry bushes grow a number of black raspberries (Rubus occidentalis) just coming into fruit. The deep purple to black orbs look inviting, but first must be inspected carefully for ants that are also dining on them. This thorny cane, common in disturbed areas in the Eastern U.S., appears quite similar to the southern blackberry (Rubus argutus). However, while the black raspberry fruits separate easily from their receptacles (as evident in the photograph above), blackberry fruits do not. After several minutes of carefully investigating this year’s black raspberry harvest, this author returned home, purple-fingered and purple-tongued.
This article was originally published on June 18, 2010.
Summer is here at last, and it is party time at the Cleyera on Piney Woods Church Road! Come on out and see what all the buzz is about! The decor is sheik yet seasonal, consisting of Cleyera flowers in bloom,
accompanied by spent blossoms, tastefully arranged amid gossamer spider threads.
The blossoms are a popular hangout for guests. Abundant honeybees are busy pollinating many of the flower heads,
along with bees from the well-respected Family Halictidae, flashing thier gold at passers-by.
Among the more intimidating-looking of the party guests is undoubtedly this Virginia Flowerfly, Milesia virginiensis, which looks a lot like a yellowjacket but does not sting.
On the other end of the spectrum, the Cleyera also caters to much tinier folk, such as this quarter-inch tumbling flower beetle from the Family Mordellidae, possibly Mordella marginata.
Undoubtedly one of the Cleyera’s most dapper customers as summer gets underway is this Longhorned Beetle (Strangalia luteicornis), a well-heeled and elegant specimen of the Family Cerambycidae.
If you visit the Cleyera, it is worth watching out for the occasional riff-raff — unsavory characters such as this two-lined spittlebug (Prosapia bicincta), a common pest of turf grass and ornamentals.
The Cleyera — a great place to party, and get some serious pollinating done — but only while the flowers are blooming.
From this morning’s visit to a hedge of booming Cleyera along Piney Woods Church Road, here is my latest photograph of a honeybee hard at work.
Here are a pair of photographs of a beautiful fly, a member of the group referred to as “thick-headed flies” (Family Conopidae, possibly Physocephala sp.). Thick-headed flies are wasp imitators, who also happen to lay their eggs inside the bodies of wasps. This one has lovely blue wings. It was perched on the blooming Cleyera along Piney Woods Church Road, the current roadside “U.N.” for diverse pollinating insects.
The Cleyera at the corner is pulsing with activity these days. Most of the visitors are honeybees, but I am finding quite a few other insects, ones previously unfamiliar to me. The key, I have found, is to arrive in the early morning, when the air is still cool and insects aren’t dashing too rapidly about. Even then, it takes quite a few photographs to secure one crisp image of a bee. Fortunately, this particular insect, with about a half-inch wingspan, was quite content with being motionless. In fact, when I first saw it, I thought it might be dead, or a molted exoskeleton of something. This plume moth (Family Pterophoridae) has a fragile, ghostly quality about it — so insubstantial compared with most moths and butterflies I have encountered in the past.
