Whenever things start to feel to complicated in my life, I find solace in the simple juxtapositions of leaf and stone that I find on my daily outings as a dirt road pilgrim. There is a lot we can learn by just looking to the earth upon which we walk.
In a hurry this afternoon (with a Mellow Mushroom pizza awaiting me at home), I jumped out of the car at the intersection of Piney Woods Church Road and Rico Road, walked over to an American Burnweed growing close by, and immediately found this katydid. I love how the katydid’s legs make nearly perfect equilateral triangles.
Walking down Piney Woods Church Road this evening, I chanced upon a fellow pilgrim in the middle of the road, headed, like me, toward Hutcheson Ferry Road. He (or she) was an Orangestriped Oakworm (Anisota senatoria) with a long way to go. I took a few photographs, then an approaching car prompted me to scoop up the pilgrim and relocate him (or her) to the side of the road. Safe journeys, traveler.
On my evening walk down Piney Woods Church Road today, I passed an Arrowhead Spider (Verrucosa arenata) in the center of her web, apparently doing yoga (or else a highly unsuccessful attempt at peek-a-boo).
The days race by, and now it is autumn. I snatch a few minutes away from a long slough of desk work to amble down Piney Woods Church Road. I take a few shots of some brilliant red sassafras leaves, and a mother cow licking her calf. Early on my journey, I encounter another planthopper on a roadside weed — this time, the Citrus Flatid Planthopper, Metcalfa pruinosa. In my imagination, he (or she) glances furtively and suspiciously at the photographer as he takes this picture.
On this first day of Autumn, abundant green leaves are visible against a blue sky of mid-afternoon. In the background, widely scattered blurs of yellow hint at fall’s arrival.
With only two days left until the the official end of summer, autumn’s approach is palpable along Piney Woods Church Road. From today’s walk, here are two visions of autumn: Changing Colors, and Leaf Touching Leaf.
When I think of autumn colors, I usually think of maple and sassafras, not muscadine. But I am finding the muted greens, yellows, golds, and orange-browns of muscadine leaves, scattered on Piney Woods Church Road this time of year, to be enchanting, too.
Along Piney Woods Church Road, the American Burnweed (Erechtites hieraciifolius) is coming into seed. The flower heads, which stay almost entirely closed while the flower blooms are bursting open to reveal a globe of feathery parachutes with seeds attached. The weed itself is a nondescript native annual with a penchant for cropping up in unmown lawns. And certainly the flower is not spectacular, and does not seem to attract many intriguing pollinators. But even though the wind will carry these seeds far and wide to many a lawn and pasture, still I find seed time among the burnweed to be a time of wonders.
On my morning Piney Woods Church walk today, I wandered to the edge of a patch of weeds in search of a flower, and ended up discovering a roadside zoo. I walked from one end of the road to the other, the intersection with Hutcheson Ferry Road. Looking down the road, I saw a brilliant red trumpet-shaped flower vining up a sweetgum sampling in the road bank. I waked down the road to examine it; then, turning to look back, I noticed the same flower scattered throughout the patch of weeds. I strolled into the grass-lined gully beside Piney Woods Church Road, to get a couple of close-ups of the lovely blooms. They turned out to belong to the Small Red Morning Glory (Ipomoea coccinea), a native of tropical America that has become naturalized to moist soil and waste places throughout the Southeast.
I had just finished a series of photographs when I felt something on my leg. I glanced down, and saw a black beetle, about an inch in length. I am proud to say that I did not react right away to flick it away, but instead started taking pictures. It seemed quite inquisitive and almost “cute”, in a beetle-ish sort of way. After half a dozen pictures, I gently flicked the top of my sock to send him (or her) onto the grass. There, I took another few photographs. This quite charming beetle turned out to be none other than the Margined Blister Beetle (Epicauta funebris). Evidently I was wise not to perturb it; as Bill Bixby used to remark on the 1980s TV show, “The Incredible Hulk”, “Don’t make me angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” In this case, the blister beetle evidently secretes a caustic chemical that, not surprisingly, can cause skin irritation and blisters. The substance is even more toxic to horses. A handful of crushed beetles, mixed in with a meal of alfalfa hay, can be fatal. Still, I find this beetle quite endearing.
Glancing through the weeds along the roadbank, I noticed a thin katydid perched on a stem. It was most likely the Slender Meadow Katydid (Conocephalus fasciatus).
A nearby stem held an even more impressive specimen — a large Differential Grasshopper (Melanoplus differentialis). How stunning!
Nearby was yet another singing insect of late summer: a Fork-Tailed Bush Katydid (Scudderia furcata).
As I left this site of so many new discoveries, I glanced back and took a photograph. This roadside zoo might not have a neon sign, gift shop, or parking lot, but it is well worth the visit!
