"Where Fillmore County News Comes First"
Online Edition
Friday, May 24th, 2013
Volume ∞ Issue ∞
- 11:44:26, May 21st 2013 - airmaxs52274 - Have you ever thought about adding a little bit more than just your a ... [Read More]
- 5:56:33, May 18th 2013 - modgudur - I guess the child is anti-gun control since Obama went to all that trouble ... [Read More]
- 9:27:41, May 16th 2013 - caal girl - Nice outfit on you. I loved some of the dresses but am holding my breath ... [Read More]
- 2:03:34, May 14th 2013 - - Thanks for sharing the trip with us! ... [Read More]
- 4:12:01, May 9th 2013 - Amanda Ziebell - Wow! Thanks to the Fillmore County Journal for this kind story. For a ... [Read More]
- 11:47:30, May 7th 2013 - EW - ramble.....ramble.....ramble..... ... [Read More]
- 10:25:25, May 7th 2013 - Thunder6 - Great article! I love to see the Youth of Fillmore County receiveing acco ... [Read More]
- 6:52:10, May 6th 2013 - Jason Sethre, Publisher of Fillmore County Journal & Olmsted County Journal - Maryh, ... [Read More]
- 7:29:56, May 5th 2013 - maryh - Where are OCJ's available for pickup...other than at the new office? ... [Read More]
- 2:41:47, May 3rd 2013 - Remark1976 - Mrs. Buckbee, I just looked up Senate File 796 and in it there are said p ... [Read More]
A View From The Woods
Fri, Sep 16th, 2011
Posted in Columnists
Posted in Columnists
Comments
The Air is Alive
Draped over the lawn chair, feet up, I'm sinking into a pleasant summer afternoon snooze with a magazine forgotten in my lap. Cicadas whir and crickets chirp in that endless loop of late-summer background music.
A soft bird twitter, far overhead, stirs my consciousness and I peer through my eyelashes to see what's up. Some fifty barn swallows are silently looping around and around the garden, with only the occasional call to announce their presence. Oddly, they are absent over the closely grazed meadow that surrounds two sides of our garden. I try to focus on one bird at a time. One circles endlessly, another seems to repeat a figure eight to round the tall white pine, while another has no discernible route as it soars and drops and leans away from the woods in a wide arc.
A smile on my face already, I notice there is yet another layer of action. From the ground up to about fifteen feet is a parallel swarm of dragonflies. I'd guess a hundred little helicopters are performing a similar up-down-all around show as they too seem to stay in the yard and avoid the field and woods.
Even though I haven't seen a single gnat or fly or mosquito, I suspect there must be some kind of an insect hatch going on. The motivation for the swallows and the dragonflies is much more likely to be food than the sheer delight of zooming over the colorful late summer flowers.
I decide to get even more comfortable as I resume reading my magazine in the hammock in the shade of an apple tree. Yet I'm easily distracted, catching a glimpse of a zooming bird in the openings of the orchard canopy. I glance into the sunlight over the garden-and suddenly the air is dense with drifting white dots, a billion nearly invisible bugs of some sort that are surely the focus of the airborne party going on.
The biodiversity in the garden, tall and short flowers, herbs, vegetables and fruits, mixed with trees, shrubs and lawn, is a hatching ground for a world of life. I can barely perceive it, and science hardly knows it. Yet swallows and dragonflies know what is good to eat, and when, and so they arrived.
The day after the first significant rainfall in over a month is a very good day. Gentle temperatures and soaking moisture must have been the trigger for the hatch, and the visitors.
A half hour later the swallows are gone, and moved on to some other timely feeding ground. A bit later and there isn't a dragonfly to be seen.
Draped over the lawn chair, feet up, I'm sinking into a pleasant summer afternoon snooze with a magazine forgotten in my lap. Cicadas whir and crickets chirp in that endless loop of late-summer background music.
A soft bird twitter, far overhead, stirs my consciousness and I peer through my eyelashes to see what's up. Some fifty barn swallows are silently looping around and around the garden, with only the occasional call to announce their presence. Oddly, they are absent over the closely grazed meadow that surrounds two sides of our garden. I try to focus on one bird at a time. One circles endlessly, another seems to repeat a figure eight to round the tall white pine, while another has no discernible route as it soars and drops and leans away from the woods in a wide arc.
A smile on my face already, I notice there is yet another layer of action. From the ground up to about fifteen feet is a parallel swarm of dragonflies. I'd guess a hundred little helicopters are performing a similar up-down-all around show as they too seem to stay in the yard and avoid the field and woods.
Even though I haven't seen a single gnat or fly or mosquito, I suspect there must be some kind of an insect hatch going on. The motivation for the swallows and the dragonflies is much more likely to be food than the sheer delight of zooming over the colorful late summer flowers.
I decide to get even more comfortable as I resume reading my magazine in the hammock in the shade of an apple tree. Yet I'm easily distracted, catching a glimpse of a zooming bird in the openings of the orchard canopy. I glance into the sunlight over the garden-and suddenly the air is dense with drifting white dots, a billion nearly invisible bugs of some sort that are surely the focus of the airborne party going on.
The biodiversity in the garden, tall and short flowers, herbs, vegetables and fruits, mixed with trees, shrubs and lawn, is a hatching ground for a world of life. I can barely perceive it, and science hardly knows it. Yet swallows and dragonflies know what is good to eat, and when, and so they arrived.
The day after the first significant rainfall in over a month is a very good day. Gentle temperatures and soaking moisture must have been the trigger for the hatch, and the visitors.
A half hour later the swallows are gone, and moved on to some other timely feeding ground. A bit later and there isn't a dragonfly to be seen.