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Cosy Snowmen Tableau
Three enchanted snowmen beckon you to read my full post.
Category: Macro
Glimpses of the Moon
Join me in exploring the depths of “Hamlet,” where the phrase “revisits thus the glimpses of the moon” unveils a world where the supernatural meets the mysterious moonlight. Let’s unravel this imagery together, reflecting on life’s transient beauty, seeking understanding, and contemplating the cycles of change under the moon’s spell.
Life and Death
Among the 7,000 year old remains found in Windover Bog was the skeleton of a boy crippled from spina bifida who had to be carried around and treated for the 16 years of his life.
I was born into a world that danced around me, a world I could only witness but never fully join. My legs, unlike those of the other children in our tribe, refused to carry me. I spent my days close to our hut, watching the life of our village unfold from my corner, shaded by the leafy arms of the great trees.
My mother was my bridge to the world. She carried me to the edge of the waters, where I would watch my friends play, their laughter a melody I cherished. She showed me the way the water held stories, the way the reeds whispered in the wind. She taught me to weave, my fingers nimble and quick, making up for my still legs.
As I grew, I found my place among my people. I became a keeper of stories, a weaver of tales, just as I wove reeds into baskets. My voice became my movement, my words a dance.
Then, illness found me. It crept into our hut, a shadow that no fire could dispel. My mother’s eyes, always so full of warmth, grew clouded with fear. She fought for me, her hands constantly working – crushing herbs, whispering prayers.
I saw her struggle; saw the toll it took. I wanted to ease her burden, tell her it would be alright, but my voice had begun to fail me. All I could do was squeeze her hand, a silent message of love and gratitude.
As my breaths grew shallower, I watched her. She was my world, her face the last thing I saw as I drifted away, her lullabies carrying me to a place of peace.
I am his mother, heartbroken and weary. My son, my joy, lies motionless, his chest barely rising. I had always carried him, but now, there’s a journey I cannot make with him.
I remember his laughter, bright and clear, despite his bound body. His spirit had wings, even if his legs did not. He was the light of our tribe, a storyteller, a dreamer.
When he leaves me, my heart shatters. The tribe gathers, offering comfort, but the void he leaves is too vast. We prepare him for his final journey, wrapping his body, laying beside him his favorite weaving tools, the small toys he cherished.
We take him to the bog, our sacred place. Gently, we lay him in the water, his final cradle. The waters close over him, holding him in an eternal embrace.
Years pass, but his memory remains, alive in the stories I tell by the fire.
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved http://www.MichaelStephenWills.com
Backlit
Ferns, ancient plants with unique reproduction strategies and ecological significance, adapt to diverse environments while contributing to overall biodiversity and human culture.
In the vast tapestry of the plant kingdom, ferns occupy a unique and enduring place. These ancient plants, often overlooked in favor of their flowering counterparts, have a fascinating and seemingly eternal existence that spans millions of years. Ferns, with their lush green fronds and distinctive reproductive mechanisms, offer us a glimpse into the enduring legacy of life on Earth and the remarkable adaptations that have allowed them to persist through the ages.
Ferns belong to the group of plants known as Pteridophytes, which evolved more than 360 million years ago during the late Devonian period. Their evolutionary history predates the appearance of flowering plants, making ferns some of the oldest living organisms on our planet. This remarkable longevity raises the question: how have ferns managed to survive and thrive for so long?
One key to the success of ferns lies in their unique reproductive strategy. Unlike flowering plants that produce seeds, ferns reproduce via spores. These small, dust-like structures contain the genetic material necessary for ferns to reproduce. When mature, ferns release spores into the environment, where they can be carried by the wind or water to new locations. Once a spore finds a suitable environment, it can germinate and develop into a new fern plant.
The spore-based reproduction of ferns is not only ancient but also highly efficient. It allows ferns to colonize diverse habitats, from moist, shaded forests to arid deserts. Additionally, ferns can form extensive networks of underground rhizomes, which are creeping stems that give rise to new fronds. This vegetative propagation further contributes to their resilience and adaptability.
Ferns have also developed a range of adaptations that enable them to thrive in various environmental conditions. Some fern species, such as the resurrection fern (Pleopeltis polypodioides), can endure extreme desiccation. When conditions are dry, these ferns curl up and appear dead, but they can quickly revive and unfurl their fronds when moisture returns. Backpacking through mountainous Arizona wilderness I encountered small ferns growing in the shade of rock ledges, maybe this was Phillips Cliff Fern (Woodsia phillipsii). My guide called it “Ridgeline Fern” and claimed it was important for desert survival, could be eaten in extremis situations. This remarkable ability to withstand drought and promote human survival is a testament to the tenacity and usefulness of ferns.
Another intriguing aspect of ferns is their mutualistic relationship with mycorrhizal fungi. These fungi form symbiotic associations with fern roots, aiding in nutrient absorption and enhancing the fern’s ability to thrive in nutrient-poor soils. This partnership has likely contributed to the fern’s ability to colonize a wide range of habitats and compete with other plant species.
While ferns have proven to be resilient survivors, they have also played a crucial role in shaping Earth’s ecosystems. Ferns are often early colonizers in disturbed or newly formed habitats, and their presence can help stabilize soils and create conditions suitable for the establishment of other plant species. In this way, ferns contribute to the ecological succession and overall biodiversity of ecosystems.
Beyond their ecological significance, ferns have captured the human imagination for centuries. Their delicate and intricate fronds have inspired art, literature, and even garden design. Many garden enthusiasts cultivate ferns for their ornamental beauty and unique charm.
In conclusion, the eternal life of ferns is a testament to the remarkable adaptability and resilience of these ancient plants. Their longevity, dating back millions of years, serves as a reminder of the enduring nature of life on Earth. Ferns have evolved unique reproductive strategies, adaptations to various environments, and mutualistic relationships that have allowed them to persist and thrive. Whether they are serving as pioneers in newly formed habitats or gracing our gardens with their elegance, ferns continue to capture our fascination and enrich the natural world. Their legacy reminds us of the intricate and interconnected web of life that has persisted on our planet through the ages.
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Right Reserved MichaelStephenWills.com
Among Fallen Leaves
The red berries of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit plant play a key role in seed dispersion, wildlife sustenance, and fueling its energy storage organ, the corm.
As the crisp air of autumn settles in and the leaves begin their spectacular transformation into hues of red, orange, and yellow, the forest floor comes alive with a myriad of hidden wonders. Among these wonders, the Jack-in-the-Pulpit (Arisaema triphyllum) stands out for its striking red berries and the role they play in the fall glory of the woodland ecosystem. In this essay, we will explore the beauty and significance of these red berries and how they are intrinsically linked to the plant’s corm.
The Jack-in-the-Pulpit, a native perennial herbaceous plant of North America, is known for its distinctive appearance, featuring a hood-like structure known as the spathe and a tall, slender stalk called the spadix. It is during the fall season that the plant’s fascinating red berries make their appearance, contrasting vividly against the backdrop of autumn’s colors. These berries are the result of a process that begins in the spring, when the plant first emerges from its underground corm.
Throughout the growing season, the Jack-in-the-Pulpit devotes its energy to producing these striking red berries, which serve several important ecological functions. The red berries are not only visually appealing but also function as a means of reproduction for the plant. They contain seeds that, once mature, can be dispersed to establish new Jack-in-the-Pulpit plants. These seeds are often transported by animals that consume the berries, such as birds and rodents, which then disperse them in their droppings, contributing to the plant’s spread throughout the forest.
The bright red color of the berries is a key feature that attracts birds, making them an essential food source during the fall and early winter months. Birds like thrushes, cardinals, and robins are known to feed on the Jack-in-the-Pulpit berries, aiding in seed dispersal while benefiting from the nutrient-rich fruits. This mutualistic relationship between the plant and its avian dispersers showcases the interconnectedness of the forest ecosystem, where each species relies on the other for survival and propagation.
The significance of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit’s red berries extends to the corm beneath the surface. The corm serves as an energy storage organ for the plant, helping it survive through the harsh winter months when the above-ground parts of the plant wither and die. During the fall, as the plant directs its energy toward producing berries, it also transfers nutrients to the corm, ensuring its vitality and readiness for the following spring.
Furthermore, the corm itself can serve as an energy reserve for the production of future berries and the growth of new shoots. As the plant enters dormancy, it relies on the stored energy in the corm to fuel its growth when conditions become favorable in the next growing season. In this way, the corm and the red berries are intricately linked, with the berries representing the culmination of a year-long process of energy accumulation and reproduction.
In conclusion, the red berries of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit are a captivating and vital component of the fall glory that graces our woodlands. Their vibrant color and ecological role in seed dispersal highlight the plant’s contribution to the forest ecosystem’s richness and diversity. Moreover, these berries are a testament to the interconnectedness of nature, as they are not only visually stunning but also an essential food source for wildlife. As we marvel at the beauty of fall and explore the wonders of the natural world, let us take a moment to appreciate the significance of the red berries of the Jack-in-the-Pulpit and their role in the intricate web of life that surrounds us.
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Right Reserved MichaelStephenWills.com
more Jennings Pond IV
Still life and stillness
I described Jennings Pond to Pam and we returned together. Here is a photographic essay from that day, one of a series.
The first image is the small concrete dam, taken from the footbridge over the pond outlet, source for Buttermilk Creek.
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Newgrange VIII
The Newgrange facade and kerbstones consists of stones from various locations, believed to be transported by sea and river.
The Newgrange façade and entrance of today is a creation from the large quantity of small stones unearthed and conserved during excavation given form by a steel-reinforced concrete retention wall.
The brilliant white quartz cobblestones were collected from the Wicklow Mountains, 31 miles to the south. Our guide called them “sunstones” for the way they reflect sunlight. In the following photograph is white quartz, the same excavated 1967-1975 from the Newgrange site and incorporated into the facade, I collected from “Miners Way” along R756 (above Glendalough).
You can also see in these photographs dark rounded granodiorite cobbles from the Mourne Mountains, 31 miles to the north. Dark gabbro cobbles from the Cooley Mountains and banded siltstone from the shore at Carlingford Lough both locations on the Cooley Peninsula where my mother’s family still has farms.
The stones may have been transported to Newgrange by sea and up the River Boyne by fastening them to the underside of boats at low tide. None of the structural slabs were quarried, for they show signs of having been weathered naturally, so they must have been collected and then transported, largely uphill, to the Newgrange site. The granite basins found inside the chambers also came from the Mournes.
Geological analysis indicates that the thousands of pebbles that make up the cairn, which together would have weighed about 200,000 tons, came from the nearby river terraces of the Boyne. There is a large pond in this area that is believed to be the site quarried for the pebbles by the builders of Newgrange.
Most of the 547 slabs that make up the inner passage, chambers, and the outer kerbstones are greywacke. Some or all of them may have been brought from sites either 3 miles away or from the rocky beach at Clogherhead, County Louth, about 12 miles to the northeast.
Click Me for the first post of this series.
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Treman Early Autumn Walk XIV
The post discusses the Hepatica acutiloba plant, highlighting its characteristics, growth, historical medicinal use, and its natural habitat in central eastern North America. It also includes an observation made in Robert H. Treman Park.
These characteristic leaves are Hepatica plants growing on the sun dappled southern rim of Robert H. Treman Park captured on a bright late September morning.
“Hepatica acutiloba, the sharp-lobed hepatica, is a herbaceous flowering plant in the buttercup family Ranunculaceae. It is sometimes considered part of the genus Anemone, as Anemone acutiloba, A. hepatica, or A. nobilis. Also generally known as Liverleaf and Liverwort.”
“The word hepatica derives from the Greek ἡπατικός hēpatikós, from ἧπαρ hêpar ‘liver’, because its three-lobed leaf was thought to resemble the human liver.”
“Each clump-forming plant grows 5 to 19 cm (2.0 to 7.5 in) tall, flowering in the early to mid spring. The flowers are greenish-white, white, purple or pinkish in color, with a rounded shape. After flowering the fruits are produced in small, rounded columned heads, on pedicels 1 to 4 mm long. When the fruits, called achenes, are ripe they are ovoid in shape, 3.5–4.7 mm long and 1.3–1.9 mm wide, slightly winged and tend to lack a beak.”
“Hepatica acutiloba is native to central eastern North America where it can be found growing in deciduous open woods, most often in calcareous soils. Butterflies, moths, bees, flies and beetles are known pollinators. The leaves are basal, leathery, and usually three-lobed, remaining over winter.”
“Hepatica was once used as a medicinal herb. Owing to the doctrine of signatures, the plant was once thought to be an effective treatment for liver disorders. Although poisonous in large doses, the leaves and flowers may be used as an astringent, as a demulcent for slow-healing injuries, and as a diuretic.”
Click Me another post featuring Hepatica flowers
References
–text in italics and quotes is from Wikipedia, “Hepatica” and “Hepatica acutiloba.”
–“The Botanical Garden Vol II Perennials and Annuals,” Roger Phillips and Martyn Rix, Firefly Books, 2002.
Copyright 2023 All Rights Reserved Michael Stephen Wills
Fruit of the Starflower
A member of the primrose family
These dark blue berries at the end of a slender naked stalk that arises from the leaf joint at the top of the plant were encountered on a late August day in Fillmore Glen, Moravia, Cayuga County, New York State. Lysimachia borealis is a perennial wildflower commonly known as Starflower. After blooming in the spring, as a member of the primrose family these are some of the first flowers to appear, the fertilized flowers develop into this round purple fruit. To confuse identification, the plant is also known as Trientalis borealis.
“Lysimachia species are used as food plants by the larvae of some butterflies and moths, including the dot moth, grey pug, lime-speck pug, small angle shades, and v-pug.” Chipmunks eat these fruits as a minor portion of their diet.
“Bees of the genus Macropis are specialized to pollinate oil-producing Lysimachia plants. These bees use exclusively Lysimachia floral oils for building their nests and provisioning cells. Lysimachia floral-specific chemicals are strong attractors for Macropis nuda and Macropis fulvipes bees that are seldom found in other plant genera.”
Do not confuse this with another “starflower,” Borago officinalis, from which an oil is produced commercially.
Reference: text in italics and quotes is from the Wikipedia, “Lysimachia.”
Copyright 2023 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved
Yellow-legged Wasp?
A case of mistaken identity.
After reading a New York Times article with the sub-title “A beekeeper in Savannah, Ga., found what turned out to be a yellow-legged hornet. State and federal officials, along with academic experts, are working to eradicate the species” I spotted this wasp foraging our flowers in Ithaca, New York. Its yellow legs caught my eye, although the apparent size (seemed larger in article photograph) and face and body markings seemed different. Using an Apple Iphone 14 ProMax I captured three macros from different angles, I attached them to an email to the local Cooperative Extension office. They gave me a quick response, confirming my suspicion this was a different “yellow-legged wasp.” The agent suggested it might be a “paper wasp” and directed me to a Cornell site were, for a $25 fee, an identification could be made.
Instead, this morning I found “insectidentification.org” with an excellent search capability. Under “Bee, Ant, Wasp and Similar insects that can be found in the state/territory of New York,” the third row from top spotted an exact match being the only Yellow-legged native wasp. I am going to respond to the agent with this identification as others in the area may have the same question, given the name of the invasive wasp.
“It is the Yellow-legged Mud-dauber Wasp (Sceliphron caementarium), also known as Black and Yellow Mud Dauber, Black-waisted Mud-dauber. Of the Latin species name, Sceliphron caementarium, caementarius means mason or builder of walls.”
“These are solitary parasitoid wasps and build nests made of mud. The family of sphecid wasps collect mud balls at puddle and pool edges for constructing nests comprised of up to 25 vertically arranged, individual cylindrical cells. Frequently, nests are built in shaded areas inside formations that are sheltered from the weather or from other environmental elements. These sites may be naturally-occurring, or man-made structures. Some examples are: under and inside various types of bridges, barns, garages, open-air porches, or under housing eaves. A female might take only a day to construct a cell requiring dozens of trips carrying mud. Females will add new cells one by one to the nest after each cell is provisioned. They provision these nests with spiders, such as crab spiders, orb-weaver spiders and jumping spiders in particular, as food for the developing larvae. Each mud cell contains one egg and is provided with several prey items. The wasp then seals the cell with a thick mud plug. After initial creation and covering of the clutch, this sphecid wasp uses more mud as a means covering and protecting the whole cluster of cells, thereby forming a smooth appearance, and a uniform nest. The entire nest may attain an area equal to, or larger than, the size of an average human fist.”
“After finishing a series of cells, she leaves and does not return. While consuming the prey and increasing in size, the larva molts several times, until it molts into a pupa. Once the pupa has developed into an adult wasp, the adult emerges from its pupal case and breaks out of its mud chamber.”
“Various parasites attack these nests, including several species of cuckoo wasps, primarily by sneaking into the nest while the resident mud dauber is out foraging.”
“Adults can be seen in mid-summer feeding on nectar at flowers, especially Queen Anne’s lace (Daucus carota), parsnips and water parsnips (Sium suave, Sium latifolium, Berula erecta). They have a low reproductive rate. Stings are rare due to their solitary and usually nonaggressive nature; however, nests are aggressively defended.“
“Like other solitary wasps, Sceliphron species are not aggressive unless threatened. They are sometimes regarded as beneficial due to their control of spider populations, though the spiders themselves may be beneficial in controlling pest insects.”
“This species is found in a wide variety of habitats, such as rock ledges, man-made structures, puddles and other water edges, cypress domes, in long leaf pines (Pinus palustris), and in turkey oaks.“
“S. caementarium is widespread in Canada, the United States, Central America and the West Indies, and has been introduced to many Pacific Islands (including Australia, Hawaii, and Japan), Peru and Europe, where it has become established in some countries of the Mediterranean Basin (Croatia, France and Corsica, Italy, Cyprus,Malta, the Canary Islands, and Madeira) and Austria, and Ukraine.“
“Sceliphron caementarium can reach a length of 24–28 mm (15⁄16–1+3⁄32 in). Their petiole is generally black and is about half the length of the entire abdomen, however the population in the desert southwest often has a yellow petiole. The thorax shows various yellow markings, while the abdomen is normally black, with yellow propodeum (typical of females). The eyes are black, the antennae are black, and the legs are yellow with black trochanters and femurs. Within the United States, it is the only species with yellow-marked legs. The wings are a tawny color.”
“In 1996, Birgenair Flight 301 crashed near Puerto Rico. The most probable cause of this Boeing 757 crash was a blockage in a pitot tube by a mud dauber’s nest.”
Around our home these mud-daubers favor hollows within our aluminum fencing.
Reference: text in italics and quotes paraphrased from Wikipedia “Sceliphron caementarium” and “Sceliphron.”
Michael Stephen Wills Photography 