Queen for a Day

The previous collection of photos was taken over the course of several days.
Queen Anne's Lace fills the fields in late summer.
Her flower heads are home to many insects that both feed off her bracts and blossoms
or wait in their cover for prey.

(Did you find them all?)

Key:
photo 2: tiny unidentified fly
photo 6&7: Black Swallowtail caterpillar
photo 8: Aughochlorini sweat bee
photo 9&10: jumping spider #1
photo 11: ambush bug waiting to strike
photo 12: unidentified fly
photo 13: ambush bug capturing honeybee
photo 14&15: jumping spider #2
photo 16: orb weaver web

See more Skywatch here.

Awesome Arachnid

What a difference a few inches makes.
I came around the corner quickly, and, had it not been for a slight breeze that rippled these silken strands, I’d not have seen her here, by the Hawthorn at the edge of the woods.
Stopped dead in my tracks by an odd looking creature in a wild get-up.
Pleased not to find her in my hair.

Her web, her masterpiece.
Spanning a two foot expanse, an orb—with 50 revolutions to its spiral if it has one.
She rests in the very center, shaded by the trees overhead, and scurries up a strand as I approach.


Her large spined black and white abdomen perhaps to confuse a would-be predator.
Though her flamboyant fashion sense, I question.
Black would be more slimming.
She must be the artsy type.

Spined Micrathena, female
Click photos to enlarge.

Oh, my!

I head out to our trails after work each day.
Their winding takes me past woods, field and water—an escape into what often is peace and solitude.

But, in the thickness of summer, a lively hunting ground.
Where predators lurk as I pass.
And I’m thankful for my tall stature.


The gum grove holds a special treasure.
Here, in its star-shaped leaves, I found a wheel bug last year--his slow-moving steel gray form almost mechanical, as he stalked beetles.


This year, there will be many more.
From between the bright leaves, they watch me.


Late instars of the next generation. Peering down long faces with the same piercing, sucking mouthparts.
Stepping slowly forward on long, bent legs.
To see who walks beneath the gum tree.


In the field, a large jumping spider has caught a distracted cicada. Dropping from the small branch on his silk tether, to hide with his find in the tall grass.


Hoping I will not see where he has gone.
With eight shiny black eyes he watches.
Furry palps holding his very large dinner.

And at the pond’s edge, the most graceful amberwing,
another ferocious hunter, rests.


Before taking to the skies on wings of glass.

Thanks to Wigger's World for hosting Skywatch Friday each week at his site!

Family portrait

I have a love-hate relationship with my garden.
I love the idea of having herbs just outside my back door, a pretty plot with stone shelves and brick walkways separating my carefully placed occupants--but the constant care required to keep it looking tidy, I dread.
As a result, my herbs hide beneath tangles of uninvited guests until I miss seeing them and undertake the massive chore of restoring order.
Yesterday, I dove in—and spent the afternoon deep in green.
Party-crashers thrown in a heap on the grass.

There’s lavender, oregano, sage, thyme, and chives—with each, a magnificent aroma.
Bee balm in the shady corner, its glowing red fountains for sipping.
Sweet white succulents to tumble over the rocks.




And a very irritated wolf spider, taking her children somewhere even more tangled.
Where a creeping, crawling large creature will not disturb them.

Family portrait
Wolf spider carrying young on back

(Click to enlarge photos)

Hunter

I went out hunting—to my favorite spot.
Where strong, broad leaves allow the wispy grasses to grow tall without falling. And bold sunshine warms the openness. There is always life here—for, in all seasons, it provides much for many.

Soon, the flowers will be covered with bees and butterflies—their heavy heads full of nectar, within flowers too beautiful to be called weeds.
Juicy leaves, the food of caterpillars and baby bugs—spilling milk into hungry mouths.


She has found the perfect spot and hidden herself well. Waiting for another life to be drawn to this place.
A small crab spider, waiting for breakfast.
Wary of me as I pry the leaves apart, she turns to face me fearlessly.
Widely-placed front legs ready, she is this milkweed’s hunter.
I must find my own.

Bud vase

I recall the moment I spotted him—sitting in the grass, cross-legged, the summer heat shining strongly on his field. I had stopped for a moment to rest there, catch my breath, wipe my brow—reluctant to end my time outdoors, but wilting in the sunshine.

Out collecting images—as if picking blooms for a bouquet. Pictures to snip and crop, adjust or discard—arrange into an artful offering for others.
Finding each lovelier than the one before—my hands became full to overflowing.

He seemed unnecessary at the time—an extra, though his small size and spirited manner held me there watching him.
Perched at the edge of a single blade—his world.

Reserved for a day when he can stand alone—
to bring a smile that will melt winter snow.

Click on photo to enlarge!