Spiders

A family tragedy took my mind away from the butterfly meadow. For many days I did not visit at all. When I came back one early morning, coffee cup in hand, the meadow was doing just fine. Everything sparkled with dew in the morning light, and the tall grass was full of spiders.

This summer I read Charlotte's Web to my children. That book does not pull any punches. By the end, when Charlotte the spider dies all alone in the deserted fairgrounds, we were all crying.

These are the last lines of the book:

“Wilbur never forgot Charlotte. Although he loved her children and grandchildren dearly, none of the new spiders ever quite took her place in his heart. She was in a class by herself. It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both.”

Here is a black and gold writing spider that I photographed in the meadow:

Birdwatching

On sunny mornings before nine o'clock, the meadow is glorious for birdwatching. I like to take my coffee and lean against the gate on Fifth Avenue and look out over the meadow.

This morning one of the American holly trees, the one with the thinning leaves, was full of birds--blue jays, mocking birds, robins, cardinals, perched on the boughs like Christmas tree ornaments. These common urban birds are especially entertaining now, because they all have families: the parents still feeding their almost-grown fledglings, the young birds flapping around acting the fool. One morning we watched a mocking bird, a robin, and a hairy woodpecker, all sitting in the mulberry tree at the same time stuffing food into their babies' open mouths.

We've also spotted rarer birds in the meadow. I grabbed some internet images of the different species of birds I've personally seen in the meadow. I didn't take any of the birds photos below. I wish!

We've seen a small flock of adult towhees-similar to robins, thrillingly not robins.

One of the most exciting sights was a mated pair of flickers. These large brown woodpeckers have a reputation for shyness so I felt lucky to see them. 

I didn't quite know what they were at first, then one of them soared over my head and I saw the bright yellow underwings against the blue sky.

A family of Cooper's hawks lives on Polk Street--a mated pair and one fledgling. We often see them soaring over the meadow emitting a strange turkey-gobble cry, and usually being chased by a pack of mockingbirds. So undignified.

A family of hairy woodpeckers live in the meadow, and are often seen perched on the limbs of a dying dogwood. It's good to leave some dead limbs (snags) for the use of birds and insects.

Here are a few more:

Grackle, such a crisp silhouette in flight.

Brown Thrasher, always on the ground kicking up the straw.

Cowbird, that leaves its eggs in the nests of other birds.

There are also mystery birds I haven't identified yet. An all-gray one that may be a catbird, and some plain brown ones that may be females of some unidentifiable species. It must be the diversity of trees and habitat that attract so many different kinds of birds, and the relative peace that encourages some to stay. I imagine from a birds-eye view, the meadow looks like an oasis.

I have recently planted some sunflowers (Autumn beauty and Mexican) for goldfinches, and bog sage (donated by Stanley's Greenhouse!) to attract hummingbirds. Maybe soon, I can add them to the list of birds spotted in the meadow.

Field Trip!

Generous Parkridger Amber Crouse, who likes to walk her dogs in the Parkridge Butterfly Meadow with her husband Steve, just gave us a valuable gift.

A big pile of horse manure!

On Monday, she drove me and the kids out to Crosstie Stables in Mascot for as much horse manure as the two of us could load into the bed of her pick-up truck.

It's free, and you are allowed to take as much as you want.

As one of the owners of the stables told Amber, "They make it everyday."

While Amber and I worked, the little girls had a nice time running around the farm counting the horses. Crossties Stables has 27 horses, according to the father of one of the owners. That's a lot of manure.

I didn't realize what city girls I had raised until one of them asked what horse poop looked like. It looks like this:

We dumped it near the sidewalk on Polk Street where Nickie Bold, Parkridger who co-owns Meadowsweet Massage and Wellness on Gay Street, plans to start an herbal demonstration garden.

I will spread most of the manure on the clay inside the fence to add nitrogen and other nutrients to the very poor soil. Maybe next year we can get some really pretty flowers growing in the heart of the meadow.

Hooray for horse poop!

Weeds

Many of the plants we are encouraging to grow in the Parkridge Butterfly Meadow are what one might consider weeds. In fact, the plant we are cultivating most passionately is called "Butterfly Weed," a native perennial with orange blossoms especially rich in nectar. I noticed the pots at Stanley's Greenhouse, where we bought the specimens planted in the meadow, were labeled "Butterfly Flower," possibly to avoid that uncomfortable word, "weed."

I like weeds, though.The subtle blossoms and rangy habits of an unweeded bed are interesting and beautiful to me. The more I learn about how one weed or another fits into their ecological niche, providing food or habitat for specific insects and animals, the more valuable they seem. Then I start to think it's the Queen Anne's Lace growing unbidden in a bed in front of a public building that should stay, and the little green meatballs of boxwood, a food desert, should be ripped out and tossed on the burn pile.

With that said, there are some "weeds" we are bent on eradicating from the meadow.

Bermuda Grass, which I have mentioned before. Here it is, frying on the pavement.

One of my earliest memories is of walking across a cornfield in North Alabama, trying to figure out which plant was corn and which was Johnson grass. (My mother had said I could stomp on the Johnson grass, but not the corn.) Johnson grass, with its glossy leaves and resemblance to corn, presents a wholesome picture. But do not be fooled. It is highly invasive and contains cyanide which can kill an animal that eats too much of it. 

One way to identify Johnson grass is from the purple streaks on its leaves.

Poison Ivy. A good friend just told me that at her campsite at Bonnaroo this year, she saw a mated pair of rare red-headed woodpeckers living in a tree and eating poison ivy berries. I have never in my life seen a red-headed woodpecker and would be ecstatic to have one living in our neighborhood. Poison ivy provides food for many rare and wonderful birds and insects. Years ago this same friend said I should think about poison ivy differently, as a protector of the woods, growing along the edge and keeping out intruders.

Fair enough. But the meadow is intended for animals and people. And, as I type this my fingers are covered with itchy red blisters, a reaction to brushing up against poison ivy. Poison ivy has sent me to the hospital for steroid shots, prevented me from playing in the woods as a kid, and discouraged me from pursuing a Botany major. I really, really don't like it.

My grudge against poison ivy is so fierce, that I broke a personal rule of mine and sprayed it with herbicide, especially near the paths. If it's any consolation to the poison ivy supporters, I think it will be hard to get rid of.

Meadow in Bloom

With all the rain and sun of the past week the flowers in the Butterfly Meadow have really popped into bloom!

The Cosmos have done the best of the flowers from the mix we sowed on the bare clay.  Cosmos are a good source of nectar for adult butterflies. We have seen many Cabbage White butterflies flitting around the pink blossoms.

This small flower is called Self Heal. We did not plant it, but found it growing in the meadow. It's a member of the mint family, edible, and considered a useful herb in treating a variety of human ailments. The USDA cautions that it can be "weedy or invasive" but also notes it's "a valuable addition to a wildflower meadow or butterfly garden." (usda.gov) This touches on an issue we've talked to death among ourselves: What to kill? What to keep? In the end, we are keeping some non-native or even invasive species that are also food sources for beneficial insects.

A pink rose we pruned and are keeping, just for the hell of it.

Queen Anne's Lace, another species from Eurasia, naturalized in North America hundreds of years ago. One of my favorite flowers, and a food source for bees and butterflies, especially the Black Swallowtail.

 Bush Morning Glory, supposed to attract hummingbirds and butterflies.

We bought several species of clover from Knox Seed to sow in the meadow. Clover is a nectar source for bees and the leaves are food for some butterfly larva. Clover is a nitrogen fixer and helps build topsoil. This is especially beneficial in eliminating the bare clay areas in the meadow.

 Flea bane, a native perennial.

Yellow dock seeds, nutritious for birds and humans.

I asked Brian Campbell, horticulturist at the Knoxville Botanical Gardens and instigator of the Butterfly Conservation Meadow, to list his top three must-have flowers. He listed butterfly weed, echinacea (or purple cone flower), and asters in general, especially late-blooming species so that insects and birds can have that food source for as long as possible.

We are propagating echinacea now, and are on the lookout for butterfly weed and members of the asteraceae family.

Ordinary Magic of Birds

A few weeks ago my four-year-old climbed the star magnolia tree in the meadow and reported that there was a nest with two blue eggs in it. The upper-most branches are too thin to support anyone but her, so we had to take her word for it.

A week later she climbed the tree again and said the eggs were gone, replaced with weird-looking pink things.

"Are they cute?" I asked.

"No, Mom. Not cute at all."

From the ground we watched the parents (robins) fly to the nest carrying worms in their beaks.

A few days later, she called down that the baby birds were fluffy and feathery.

Then we went out of town. When we returned, the nest was empty.

When we were sure the robins weren't coming back, she retrieved the nest and climbed down one-handed.

When a bird weaves a nest--this clever little object--with mud, straw, and strips of plastic, I want to say it's like magic, because it happens without visible human input, and inspires a sense of wonder. But it's kind of the opposite of magic. A nest, a clutch of eggs, and then a bird family do not appear whole cloth out of thin air--they are the results of steady work, and all connected to the earth.

My children have shown me the mysterious other-ness of the natural world is everywhere. In our scruffy sub-tropical city full of untidy corners, they don't have to look hard to find it.

Parkridge Butterfly Meadow in the news

Our local paper did a nice write-up of the Butterfly Meadow!  Terry Shaw, the author of the piece, lives in the neighborhood and sometimes walks his dog in the meadow.