Pages

Thursday, December 8, 2011

A Mountain Autumn: Trees Cloaked in a Fusion of Color



Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.  Albert Camus

Now all is drab while frosty mornings give way to teases of approaching snows. What better time to look back with nostalgia at crispy autumn mornings and warm, sunny afternoons when leaves sparkled and danced through the air.


Autumn comes early in the higher mountains of West Virginia, 
often at the beginning of September.



Many years ago when our now grown daughter was very young, my husband and I went with other members of my family to Dolly Sods. Here, pictured with my sister, they stand posed in the middle of a crimson fall glory.


At an altitude of nearly 4000 feet, this U.S. Wilderness Area is located
 in the Allegheny Mountains of eastern West Virginia.

Here wind swept, one sided spruce and bright red heath
 barrens  create a surreal landscape.


This year, on a glorious mid-September day, we took pictures 
along the Blackwater River both in Blackwater Falls State Park
 and near Davis, WV.


A sleepy, late afternoon reflection near Davis makes us want
to slow down and linger just a little longer.



Already autumn  has cast its spell in the area, 
while giant, ageless rocks stand watch.




Like an early Christmas tree, the Mountain Ash dangles its fall ornaments
with each berry a reminder of the dainty white blossoms in spring.




The Blackwater River flows from the town of Davis down to Blackwater Falls
State Park. On the same afternoon we drove to that area as well.


Ruby colored leaves stand along the river's edge in the park.



The maples' bright reds and outcrops of rocks make
this picture look like an artist's canvas.



These splotches of white are the dainty tufts of cotton grass
growing in the wetlands nearby.




Another area of fascinating fall beauty is the Cranesville Swamp along the West Virginia/Maryland border.


An opening in the trees allows the sun to reflect off the golden ferns
before the tree leaves have even begun to change color.




Nature's lace




This is the view from the overlook near the picnic area at Gaudineer 
Scenic Area in the Monongahela National Forest in West Virginia.


Autumn colors are highlighted by the sun on September 26, 2011.



It was about 9:00 am when we drove into the scenic area.  
There was no traffic and this hawk flew from tree to tree 
staying just ahead of us on the narrow road, stopping 
to peer down before moving ahead when we came too close.



Another beautiful fall day along Route 92 in Southern Randolph County.



 Lots of color near Durbin WV.



The nice thing about being retired is the freedom to explore on a beautiful fall day.  This picture was taken on another outing at Canaan Valley Resort in Tucker County, WV on September 28, 2011.



Leaves glide on the wind on this beautiful day in Randolph County in early October.



Looking to the east, across the mountains in the same area.



Taking another trip on October 10, we decided to drive along Laurel Mountain road in Barbour County.


So much color, so much beauty.  This is Nature's last big show
before the area becomes a silhouette drawn in black and white.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

The Butterflies of Autumn



The butterfly is a flying flower,
The flower a tethered butterfly.
Pounce Denis Ecouchard Lebrum


The amazing and wonderful Monarch Butterfly is probably best known for it's migration.  While the lifespan of monarchs born in early summer is less than two months, the last generation of the summer enters into a non-reproductive phase called diapause and may live to seven or more months. It migrates to the winter site and does not reproduce until it leaves this area in February.




This is a male monarch which can be determined by the two raised spots on the hind wings. The spots are actually pouches that release pheromones to attract females. However, the female monarch can be distinguished by the wider veins on the wings and the darker color when in flight.



The monarch caterpillar goes through five stages called instars.  As the caterpillar grows, it becomes too big for its skin, molts, and eats the old skin.  This is one of the later instars.



Just as orange means caution to us, scientists believe that the bright colors serve as a warning to enemies of this butterfly. Monarchs are poisonous or at least distasteful to birds and mammals because of substances derived from the milkweeds on which it feeds.




Another beautiful golden butterfly is the fritillairy. In West Virginia, we have a number of different ones including the Great Spangled Fritillary. The scientific name is Speyeria cybele.  Cybele means "mountain mother" or "earth mother".  In late summer the female will lay as many as 2000 eggs on or near violets.  In the fall, the eggs hatch, but the caterpillars go to sleep without eating and wake in the spring when they begin to feed on the young violet plants.  Scientists are researching to see if global warming might change the timing and thus the result could be devastating for the hungry caterpillars.




This picture of a fritillary taken earlier in the summer plainly shows the spots on the under wing.  Appalachian folklore claims that if you catch the butterfly and count the spots, that is how much money you will come into.  It's easy to imagine children of earlier times enjoying this fantasy.


This aging and battered butterfly is called a Buckeye. Like its cousin the Monarch, it migrates south for the winter.



A pretty, but tiny butterfly is this Pearl Crescent sitting on a Brown-Eyed Susan. The female lays her eggs on asters. Its wingspan is only 1.25 to 1.5 inches. Look closely or you may not see it.




Something about the underside of this butterfly makes it seem grotesque. Possibly it's because the rotten pear that it is eating, just doesn't seem that appealing. Supposedly, they will even get a bit tipsy from eating fermented fruit which results in their erratic flight.



When it opens it wings, the surprise is to see a beautiful and colorful butterfly called a Red Admiral. These butterflies are said to be both territorial and attracted to perspiration. If you are lucky, they will land on your shoulder.



This fuzzy little butterfly almost has a teddy bear like quality to its head. It is a skipper, and unlike other butterflies, it holds its wings separately when puddling as can be seen in the picture below.


This white butterfly looks so dainty against the purple asters.  Unfortunately, it is the dreaded cabbage butterfly that is a plague to gardeners. The species came to North America from Europe around the time of the Civil War.  The two spots on the upper wing of this one indicate that it is a female.  Males  have only one spot.

Finally, we have the regal Eastern Tiger Swallowtail. The female may look like the one below or even be dark like the Pipevine Swallowtail. An interesting fact about this species is that when the caterpillar first hatches, it is camouflaged to look like bird poop.


"Just living is not enough" said the butterfly, "one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower." Hans Christian Anderson

This is a good message for all of us.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

The Return of Courage



On October 15, Courage our deer with the injured leg returned.  She had been missing for six days following a period of very heavy vehicle traffic on the previous Sunday. Sadly, one of her twin fawns had died about three weeks earlier after being hit by a car.  Even after it's death, Courage and her remaining fawn were daily visitors to our yard.  

Several times I had scanned the sky on our side of the mountain for signs of any of the carrion eaters: ravens, crows and vultures that screech out the news of a death. There were none. 

Courage's remaining fawn returned to our yard several times a day, sometimes obviously waiting for her. Below, he looks like a miniature adult dwarfed by interrupted fern and large hosta leaves.




Here is a closeup of his head.  Looking at it closely, you can see the brown spot between his ear and eye where he will someday have horns.




Six days after her disappearance, the little buck was lingering in our yard, sampling the flowers in my garden.  On the other side of the garage out of his view, I saw Courage, at long last, making her way slowly down the hill.  I was so happy to see that she was still alive. I watched to see the reunion, and suddenly, the little one was beside her excitedly trying to nurse.



Because most fawns are weaned by the time their spots are gone, the little one began to wear out his welcome.  Courage kept moving every time he nuzzled her.  Eventually, a little nip sent him to a clump of grass where he began to eat grown-up food.




Courage and her fawn now show up late every afternoon, lingering sometimes until almost dark.  She continues to lie down outside of our fence while he slips in through the hole that we haven't yet fixed.  Below, Courage grazes and can be partially seen although the Japanese Maple blocks most of her from our view.




This little deer has become a regular visitor to our garden.  Today, I pounded on the window when I saw him browsing from a container in which I had just planted pansies.  Like a cartoon character, he looked up with a yellow pansy dangling from between his teeth.  I finally opened up the porch door and soundly scolded him for his choice of snacks.  Totally unafraid, he obliged by moving away from the pansies and began feeding on some lily leaves that will soon fall victim to a freeze anyhow.

                                       

I realize that someday, he may become a major nuisance to us, but for now, he is just so darn cute. It's for special moments like these, that I was so irresistibly drawn back to these mountains and rural life.




Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Our Special Friend

A misty September morning



The first summer after I returned to this area, I made the mistake of getting attached to some of the deer.  In particular, two does stood out that always
traveled together. The one mother was ever vigilant and always protective of her twin fawns.  The other doe would graze with her fawn and never seemed to be concerned for her safety.  As could be predicted, that doe disappeared the first day of gun season.  The other mother deer showed up with what were obviously injuries due to a collision with a car. All three fawns were with her, but one of hers also seemed to have a seriously injured leg.

As winter came, the doe continued to get thinner in spite of our putting food out for her, and her difficulty in walking continued.  Her fawn's leg was thicker in the injury area so it was easily identifiable. Eventually, the weakened doe subcombed to fate and disappeared, but the three young ones continued to graze in the area. The last time I saw them, it was nearly spring.  The young deer were crossing the road, and one was dragging a leg as it attempted to walk. Such a sad ending for these beautiful creatures.

Well, I did it again, I became attached to one of the does that frequent our area.


Let me introduce "Courage" our doe who only has three legs that she can walk on.  Her right front foot has been badly injured.

"Courage"

As a breast cancer survivor who has seen some rough times, I really appreciate the strength, determination and courage that this deer has shown in her struggle to raise fawns, survive severe winters and just to travel about.

It was late 2008 when Courage first came to my attention.  She was attempting to walk on only three legs. I'm sure she had been in our field many times, but now with her huge handicap, she stood out.  What happened to her is unknown.  Perhaps a trap or some kind of injury to her leg resulted in this life changing event.  Every time she attempted to walk on her three normal legs, she would slip and nearly fall. It was so sad to watch her, especially when the ground was wet.  Her struggle just to move became even more difficult. The other deer left her behind and soon she was only seen alone.

In early summer of 2009, I was surprised to see her appear in our field with a tiny fawn.  Future sightings of her were alone.  Maybe she wasn't strong enough to feed her baby or protect it from predators.  We watched her throughout the season marveling that she hadn't been hit on the road. Courage seemed to like to stay close by and over time, paid little attention to our comings and goings.

The winter of 2009-2010 was especially difficult with deep snows.  I stopped measuring in early January when we had exceeded 100 inches.  Although I do not have an exact measurement for the area around our house, my guess is that we received at least 175 inches before winter ended.

As usual, Courage had disappeared as soon as hunting season began during the previous fall.  We feared the worst for her and couldn't imagine how she could move about enough to forage for food in such deep snow. To our delight, she reappeared in early summer with twins.  Unfortunately, it wasn't long until she was bringing only one fawn to graze in the field with her.

Last fall, with doe season in progress, we hoped that with only three useful legs, she would not fall victim to a hunter looking for an easy kill. In early spring I was overjoyed to see that once again she had survived.  This year I began documenting her journey after my husband saw her and took pictures of her, early one morning, with her tiny twins. What a nice surprise she presented us with.

















These are her fawns on June 15.  In the photo below, one of her tiny fawns nuzzles her looking for some food.




By September 24, they had become quite active and like all siblings, delighted in racing about and chasing each other.  Here is a quiet moment while Mom rests and they refuel for another playful episode.





They were growing up, but just like toddlers, they still wanted the comfort of the closeness with their mother.



Courage seemed to fatigue easily and to rest more than I had ever noticed previously. This picture was taken in mid September and her fur was changing on the top of her back to a deeper brown for winter.





















Here she grooms one of her babies.  As I watched her, I wondered what it must be like for her.  She is a deer that always travels alone, unable to keep up with the others. Now she has two precious babies that she watches over and that go with her almost everywhere.

Sadly, that was the last time that I saw her with both fawns. By late September, she did not come around for several days.  While my husband was mowing, he came across a dead fawn which further increased our concerns for the safety of Courage and her little family.  We watched, hoping to see her emerge from the woods with both babies.  Finally, we saw her but only with one fawn.

Courage began to stay closer to the house in an area bordered on one side by woods and on the other by a seven foot fence that keeps the deer out of the flower and vegetable gardens.  One day, early last week, we looked out to see her fawn peering around inside our flower garden while it's mom continued to graze in the grassy area outside of the fence. We watched as the fawn deftly squeezed through a hole at the bottom of the fence.  My husband had not totally finished repairing it after a bear had bashed its way in earlier this summer.











Over a period of several days, we enjoyed watching the antics of the fawn while its mom waited outside, lying up against the fence.











It sampled the hostas and oh so many tasty plants.  For a little deer, this must have been like Christmas morning is to human children.


On Sunday afternoon with autumn in full color, heavy traffic began to appear on our road.  We must have been part of a back roads autumn tour. Groups of motorcycles went by and the car and other vehicle traffic, in both directions, was incessant. Neither my husband nor I could remember seeing so many people in our area.  I'm sure that it would have been very difficult for any animal to safely cross the road.

Then, about midafternoon our fawn appeared alone.  It slipped into the fence just as it had for so many days and began sampling the hostas. The young deer looked around as if expecting its mom to appear. Finally, it lay down against the inside of the fence next to the spot where it's mother had been lying on the outside of the fence, the afternoon before.  It stayed for a couple of hours alternately looking at times as if it expected its mother and at others, dozing.  Meanwhile my husband also dozed for a while on the swing just about 40 feet away.  Finally, the fawn left and headed into the woods.

We were gone on Sunday, but we have seen the fawn twice today.  Both times it was inside our fence, and both times it seemed agitated and afraid, staying only briefly. Unfortunately, this story of another doe does not seem to have a happy ending either.