Blog

Wildlife

For years, scientists have been decrying the dangers of air pollution and water pollution. We have seen the impacts that a buildup of harmful greenhouse gases like carbon dioxide (CO2), methane (CH4), nitrous oxide (N2O), and a suite of halogen-bearing gases (like fluorocarbons) that are derived from industrial activities can bring.  Evidence of man-made climate change confronts us on a daily basis as devastating heat waves, droughts, and forest fires devastate our nation. Water pollution from an overuse of toxic chemicals by industrial, agricultural and non-professional users have poisoned waterways, limited access to clean drinking water and disrupted eco-systems. Within the last 15 years however, another insidious form of pollution has been gaining the attention of researchers around the world. They have discovered that night-time light pollution is a serious threat with wide-ranging impacts to human health as well as to our natural environment. Many researchers believe that “immediate measures should be taken to limit artificial light at night in main cities and inside houses.” 

I have become very ambivalent about deer.  On one hand, I look out my kitchen window and see this:

June 20th is 

WORLD BEE DAY

This year’s theme, "Bee inspired by nature to nourish us all", says it all. Without the work that these little fellows do, our lives would be radically changed. 

After three rounds of harsh weather conditions – frost, hail, torrential rain storms –  the early spring beds in our area are, to put it bluntly, toast. My lively pink hyacinths, which had greeted guests with their happy color and welcoming, spicy fragrance, now look like this (image) With their unexpected demise, I guess it’s time to start planning and preparing summer beds!

We were in Phoenix a week ago, spending time at the world-renowned Desert Botanical Garden. The desert plants were in bloom, giving an entirely different feeling to what is usually an austere sight. While we strolled the paths, hummingbirds soared the skies above us, occasionally swooping down to stop and have a sip of nectar from a wildflower and then zooming away. Even though I logically knew I was much further south In Phoenix than at home and that the timing of seasons is slightly different, seeing so many hummingbirds in late March surprised me.

Last week, my oldest daughter asked me for a Christmas list because, in her words, “You are so hard to buy for.”  I have to admit that I can see her point; there really isn’t much in the way of “stuff” that I either need or want. There is one thing however, that always tops my list  –  high quality bird seed to fill the feeders that are scattered throughout my yard.  

We have a nearby neighbor whom we affectionately call “Blower Man.”  We don’t actually know him – he lives directly across the quarry from us – but we definitely know when he’s outside doing yard work. The deafening sound of his enormous leaf blower drones on hour after hour, often chasing us inside until he finishes. As annoying as it is to be sent into retreat mode on a picture-perfect fall day, I find it heartbreaking to think about the environmental impacts of stripping a property bare of every fallen leaf. Autumn leaves are, I believe, Mother Nature's gift to the earth. 

While cliff golden rods and rough blazing stars are vying for attention in my front garden, my third, and unexpectedly new fall favorite, quietly fills a shady corner of my backyard with tall stems covered in soft rose-purple flowers. At a first, quick glance, the plants could be snapdragons revived after the heat of summer or digitalis giving one last burst of color, but a closer look reveals an entirely different plant, rose turtlehead, or more precisely Chelone oblique.   It’s a plant whose blossoms bring to mind dozens of small turtles raising their heads to see if anyone is looking for them and whose name recalls a long-ago story.