Shade

A male chital (a.k.a. cheetal, chital deer, spotted deer or axis deer; Axis axis) resting in the shade beneath a canopy of trees (2009_05_22_020395)

Inexorable heat.  Stifling humidity.  Omnipresent sunshine.  My life drained away in gallons of sweat.

In the middle of the glade my suffering felt endless, my thirst unquenchable.  I would die.  I knew that without question.  The clearing no larger than a football field, the unrelenting misery enlarged it until it became impassable, a forever journey that would take my life.

Then he pointed and said, “Shade.”

Trees stood atop the hill like sentinels, guards ever watching the comings and goings of life in the forest.  Atmosphere thick with temperature inversions made them dance and shimmer and hover above the surface on wisps of smoke.  An ocean of imaginary water lifted them to the sky.

“Come,” he added.  And we walked.

Eternity passed before the first limb stretched out above my head.  After a few more steps another limb, then another, then a few more, and finally the trees embraced each other with arching arms that created a canopy of verdant cover.

Barren earth greeted my knees as I dropped to the ground.  My canteen could not be opened fast enough.

Even as I gulped desperately at the warm water inside the plastic container, we saw him.  He must have seen us coming, must have noticed us as we entered the glade on the far side of the clearing.  Yet he never moved.

His antlers seemed to hold up the sky.  With his head turned, he watched.  Still he didn’t move.

His harem and offspring nestled beneath the trees a bit further down the hill.  Some nibbled on grass where it could be reached without moving.  Others dozed as much as was possible given the cloak of infernal warmth that blanketed them.  They also didn’t move.

“Too hot,” he said.  I nodded and mumbled agreement, unable to turn away from him, the stag, the buck just a stone’s throw from where we rested against a tree.  Then my mind completed the thought: Too hot for him to move.

Yes, I understood that feeling all too well.

And so we sat in the shade, offered respect to each other by sharing a commodity that none of us could be without.  Though he never stopped watching us, likewise he never denied us the moment to survive together, to wash in the only cool breath to be found in the mouth of hell.

Shade.  So simple a thing.  Amazing how it bridged the expanse between us.

[photo of a male chital (a.k.a. cheetal, chital deer, spotted deer or axis deer; Axis axis)]

A few of my favorite things #3

Flowers and the many faces of those who visit them…

A mason wasp (Monobia quadridens) and a white-faced tachinid fly (Archytas apicifer) sharing the bloom of a wild carrot (a.k.a. bishop's lace or Queen Anne's lace; Daucus carota) (20080422_04440)

a mason wasp (Monobia quadridens) and a white-faced tachinid fly (Archytas apicifer) sharing the bloom of a wild carrot (a.k.a. bishop’s lace or Queen Anne’s lace; Daucus carota)

Brownbelted bumble bees (Bombus griseocollis) foraging on aromatic buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis) (20080713_09651)

brownbelted bumble bees (Bombus griseocollis) foraging on aromatic buttonbush (Cephalanthus occidentalis)

A black and gold bumble bee (Bombus auricomus) weighing down a plains sunflower (a.k.a. petioled sunflower or prairie sunflower; Helianthus petiolaris) (20080727_10335)

a black and gold bumble bee (Bombus auricomus) weighing down a plains sunflower (a.k.a. petioled sunflower or prairie sunflower; Helianthus petiolaris)…

A metallic sweat bee (Augochloropsis metallica) visiting a different bloom on the same plains sunflower (a.k.a. petioled sunflower or prairie sunflower; Helianthus petiolaris) (20080727_10337)

…and right next door, a metallic sweat bee (Augochloropsis metallica) visiting a different bloom on the same plains sunflower (a.k.a. petioled sunflower or prairie sunflower; Helianthus petiolaris)

A female southern carpenter bee (Xylocopa micans) piercing the base of a pink Texas skullcap (Scutellaria suffrutescens) (20080727_10366)

a female southern carpenter bee (Xylocopa micans) piercing the base of an amazingly hardy pink Texas skullcap (Scutellaria suffrutescens)[1][2]

A scoliid wasp (Campsomeris plumipes) enjoying the furry bloom of woolly croton (a.k.a. hogwort or doveweed; Croton capitatus)(20080809_10694)

a scoliid wasp (Campsomeris plumipes) enjoying the furry bloom of woolly croton (a.k.a. hogwort or doveweed; Croton capitatus)

— — — — — — — — — —

Notes:

  1. Beautiful bit of adaptation in this case.  The carpenter bee is too large to fit into the flower, and it lacks a tongue long enough to reach from the opening to the base of the bloom.  So these ingenious insects pierce the base of the flower with their mandibles so they can reach through the hole and access the nectar.  Clever!
  2. This herb draws in hummingbirds and insects in large numbers.  It can be entertaining to watch the varied horde compete for the blooms.

Housekeeping

A male northern cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) perched in a treetop (2009_12_13_044606)

The diligent observer might have noticed a handful of arbitrary posts yesterday that appeared and quickly disappeared.  Oops!  In perusing my drafts, I inadvertently shuttled more than a few into the “posted” category.  But more troubling than that was the discovery that I have drafts going back seven years, most of which I’d long forgotten.

That discovery drew me into an overall evaluation of the junk that has accumulated here over the seven years I’ve been blogging.  Technical specs for the site?  What theme I’m using?  An archive of header images that shows I really need to update the collection?  Dare I go on?

So I’ve embarked on a cleanup of the site.  A lot of static and draft material will fall by the wayside.  A few posts will vanish as well.  (These posts have been password protected for ages because they contain material I intend to publish, such as the “Darkness Comes to Kingswell” short story, so removing them affects no one since no one can access them anyway.  No publicly available posts will be removed, though.)  A new collection of rotating header images will begin to take shape but the archive of them will be dumped.  And other various housekeeping changes will be made.

I mention this because, like yesterday, there might be times when I accidentally publish stuff that makes little sense (some of the drafts are nothing but collections of random notes and others are incomplete thoughts that dangle like half-fallen fruit).  Removing currently available detritus might cause 404s (page not found) on those rare occasions when someone is actually looking for the garbage I throw out.  Certainly the long overdue replacement of header images should be noticeable (though that will happen over time and not all at once).

So while I vanquish debris to the refuse pile, here are some worthwhile carnivals you can visit to occupy the time you’d otherwise spend wading through my overly loquacious gibbering.

Friday Ark #280: The weekly carnival of critters.  Whether you’re into dogs, cats, birds, or even invertebrates, this celebration of life always overflows with the week’s best offerings from the blogosphere.

Berry Go Round #24: The carnival dedicated to plants.  Until a few months ago I’d never heard of this, but it’s since become a regular in my must-read list.  Go enjoy a fantastic collection of science, discovery and beauty from all around the globe.

Festival of the Trees #44: The carnival dedicated to trees.  My first memory of a tree?  Falling off one and skinning my knee.  How I’ve loved them ever since.  This robust and beautiful edition will leave you breathless.

Circus of the Spineless #47: The carnival dedicated to invertebrates.  Ted being an entomologist and a beetle blogger, it certainly took him long enough to get around to hosting this.  Slacker.  But no matter how long he waited to host, it was worth the time: he does a fantastic job presenting a varied edition that covers everything from sea slugs and snails to spiders and skippers.  You don’t want to miss this.

A female northern cardinal (Cardinalis cardinalis) perched in a tree (2009_12_13_044610)

[photos of northern cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis): male at top and female at bottom; they’re an “item” if you get my meaning; it was cool and drizzling that day, so he hunkered down at the top of the tree and collected a nice moist sheen of white; meanwhile, she was smart and perched lower and more inside the tree where she was protected from wind and precipitation]

Is anybody home?

Several days ago I stood at the wood edge near Dixon Branch trying to grab a photo or two of a pair of woodrats scampering about in the brush.  I played stone for almost an hour waiting for one or both of them to make a recognizable appearance, to pass through or pause in a clearer field of view.  Alas, neither of them obliged me that favor, though I did capture some truly impressive blurs as they dashed back and forth behind cover.  Woe is the anguish of being so close yet so far from the goal.

But as I stood there muttering internally about being mocked by rodents, the call of a red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) drew my attention upward and into the thick of the forest.  I saw the male climbing the side of a cottonwood tree investigating nooks and crannies along the way.  As I watched him, I noted the entrance of a new woodpecker nest and immediately thought he was the owner.  He was, after all, heading right for it.

It didn’t take log for me to realize he most certainly did not own the home.  In fact, he was as curious about it as I was.  Here in sequence are ten photos showing his response to the nest.

A male red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) investigating another woodpecker's nest (2010_01_10_047705)
A male red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) investigating another woodpecker's nest (2010_01_10_047707)
A male red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) investigating another woodpecker's nest (2010_01_10_047708)
A male red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) investigating another woodpecker's nest (2010_01_10_047709)
A male red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) investigating another woodpecker's nest (2010_01_10_047713)
A male red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) investigating another woodpecker's nest (2010_01_10_047714)
A male red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) investigating another woodpecker's nest (2010_01_10_047716)
A male red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) investigating another woodpecker's nest (2010_01_10_047717)
A male red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) investigating another woodpecker's nest (2010_01_10_047718)
A male red-bellied woodpecker (Melanerpes carolinus) investigating another woodpecker's nest (2010_01_10_047719)

This went on for perhaps 45 seconds, maybe even a minute, then the woodpecker moved on.  He never entered the cavity.  As for me, I think I started laughing about 20 seconds into the investigation.  He’d stick his whole head inside, look around, pull his head out to check for possible threats, turn his head so he could look into the darkness with the full vision afforded by sideways glances, then back in his head would go.

And yes, I’ve since learned who owns the nest: a pair of downy woodpeckers (Picoides pubescens).

[photos taken at White Rock Lake]