On a dripping, chilly afternoon I set out in search of the latest “news” along Piney Woods Church Road. As usual, I found all sorts of fascinating images of water droplets balanced on tree leaves or cradled by blades of grass. I also observed one intrepid red ant braving the elements on a Chinese privet. I spent several minutes photographing it, though most of the time it moved at a determined pace, preventing me from getting a picture in sharp focus. This one was an exception.
I caught this red-banded leafhopper (Graphocephala coccinea) resting on a sweetgum leaf along Piney Woods Church Road this afternoon. Although common, they are quite small (less than half an inch in length), and easily overlooked (unless they have become a plague in one’s garden). Because they feed on the sap of plants, they are generally considered agricultural pests. I still find them fascinating, with their almost alien shape and brilliant coloration.
Today I dashed off to Piney Woods Church Road mid-afternoon, having returned from one hike (Line Creek Preserve in Peachtree City; photos from that walk will be posted tomorrow) and being about to leave for another one (Boundary Waters Park in Douglasville, where I hiked sans camera). I took few photographs; one feature that caught my eye was a Christmas fern (Polystichum acrostichoides) sporophyte frond covered with tiny brown dots, called sori (singular: sorus), which are clusters of spore-bearing structures called sporangia. Each sprangium, in turn, contains countless dust-like spores. Basically, there is a whole lot of reproduction going on here. No sex, though — that is reserved for a separate generation of fern plants, called gametophytes. Alternation of generations (from gametophyte to sporophyte and back to gametophyte) is characteristic of ferns, mosses, and their ilk.
Late spring has come to Piney Woods Church Road, and everywhere I look I encounter shades of green. After last night’s rainfall, the green is vibrant, pulsing with life. It claims nearly every inch of my journey, apart from the road surface and cloud-filled sky. Splashes of other colors are rare and precious. Here are two gems from my return walk toward Hutcheson Ferry Road. The first is a bull thistle — certainly a pestilential weed, but also the only bit of brilliant magenta along the roadside. The second is a yellow leaf — probably pin cherry — balanced on the edge of a deep green oak leaf.
From this morning, I offer two more water droplet photographs along Piney Woods Church Road. I ought to do an exhibit on water someday….
Oh, what a magnificent morning! The air temperature was about sixty degrees, and the cool breeze was delightful. The sky was still overcast, and I felt a bit of mist against my skin as I made my way to Piney Woods Church Road. Evidence of the long overnight rainstorm were everywhere. To celebrate Day 135, I have chosen this macro of a single drop of water, containing an inverted roadside landscape, suspended from a horizontal plant stem.
My wife found this swamp milkweed leaf beetle (Labidomera clivicollis) while weeding in the garden (which, at the moment, is basically just weeds). True to form, it was perched on a milkweed leaf. We planted the milkweeds a couple of years ago to attract monarchs. No monarchs yet, but we have found all sorts of other creatures on them. Milkweed plants, we have found, also have a penchant for spreading willy-nilly in a garden.
On my walk home today along Hutcheson Ferry Road, I noticed this banded flower longhorn beetle (Typocerus velutinus) resting on an English daisy flower head. The larvae of this beetle feed on decaying hardwood trees, while the adults, not surprisingly, dine on nectar and pollen.
After so many photographs of light on leaves (and so many more to come, no doubt), today I photographed this sassafras tree trunk along the edge of Piney Woods Church Road.
On my way back toward Rico Road, my attention was caught by a couple of blades of grass in a recently planted future horse pasture along Piney Woods Church Road. One blade was curved above another, shorter one. I was entranced by their flowing forms in the golden light of one half-hour before sunset.
