Friday, August 30, 2013

woolly bears

Late August is the time for woolly bear caterpillars to appear.  They always seem incredibly busy, in a hurry as they roll across my path in search of who knows what.
This caterpillar is the larval form of a moth:  Pyrrharctica isabella, the Isabella Tiger Moth.

Woolly bears hatch in the spring. Mature woolly bears search for overwintering sites under bark or inside cavities of rocks or logs. When spring arrives, they spin fuzzy cocoons and transform into moths.

 The moth, which has cream-coloured wings spotted with black, doesn't stand out from the crowd like its babies do.

The woolly bear usually is black with a band of orange in the middle.  According to folklore, the width of the bands can predict the severity of the coming winter:  the bigger the black bands, the colder it will be.

But this year, the woolly bears I come across are all orange, with not a bit of black to be seen. Does that mean we won't have a winter at all this year? All I know is that today is August 30, it's only 18 degrees C, and I have long pants and a sweater on. Looks like winter is on its way!

PS.  Here it is a month later, and I definitely have found woolly bears with the normal coloration:


defensive posture

I haven't seen another all-brown one since.  





Monday, August 19, 2013

biking the trail

I bought a beautiful new bike this year.  It's a girl's bike, just my size, with silver fenders and a nice big seat. On my first rides along the National Park bike path, I thought I was going to die.  After 12 km, my legs felt like rubber, and my bum felt like it was full of pinched nerves.  It sure wasn't much fun.

But I kept at it, and surprisingly, my bum has toughened up, and my endurance has improved.
I'm still slow - my husband whips past me and is lost on the horizon, but I keep going.  Now I bike on PEI's Confederation Trail, a path that meanders 273 km from one end of the Island to the other.  I start at km 183 in York, about 2 km from my house, and my favourite route is going east.

An encouraging sign along the trail helps me keep going.

Much of the trail is shaded by tall trees, and farmers fields are full of ripening grain and sleepy cows.  Sulphur butterflies and Monarchs flutter beside me, and I see a lot of goldfinches, robins, northern flickers, and of course crows.  There are also chipmunks - one I saw yesterday had no tail.

I have been pushing further and further along this trail.  On Friday, I stopped at km 198 to drink in this amazing view of the Hillsboro River.

I paused to look at the floats from lines of mussels being cultivated in the river, the sparkling blue water, and birds floating overhead.  Then I got back on my bike, and made it to the 200 km signpost.  

I felt like I had enough energy to go a bit further, and then I thought about the return journey - another 20 km back home.  Then I saw a sign that made me know I was meant to turn back.  A 2-foot long garter snake was sunning itself on the edge of the path.  It looked at me unafraid, let me take a few pictures, and flicked its head once as I turned around. 


As soon as I got back on my bike, I noticed a strong breeze blowing against me.  Funny - I sure didn't notice the breeze helping me on my journey east.  This contrary wind starts up every time I turn back towards home.  You would think the wind couldn't always blow the same direction, but in my experience, it does. Since I'm already tired at this point, the ride home is slower.  

Yesterday, I went out again, and made it to km 202.  And turning around, the wind caught me again, and I knew it would be a tough ride home.  I stopped a few times to pick blackberries (see previous post) and ended up with three pounds of them dangling from a bag on my handlebars.  

I'm going to try the trip a few more times, to see how far I can push myself.  






Monday, August 12, 2013

blackberries aren't so bad

I always thought I hated blackberries - tasteless, seedy things, and the core left inside the berry really put me off.

But I've changed my mind, and now I'm a big fan.  While riding my bike on PEI's Confederation Trail between the Bedford and Suffolk roads, I found a treasure trove of blackberries ripe for the picking.  The flavour is sweet and rich, and now I want more.










Unfortunately, the fruit comes with a cost. The blackberry vines are full of vicious thorns, and the best berries grow on plants perched just out of my reach on steep banks that threaten to suck me down to my doom.  While I was picking, I looked down to see why I was feeling all these pinches and bites, and found my feet and legs swarming with ants.  I had parked myself on a nest!  But with me, it's all about the food, so I risked life and limb to pick the tasty morsels.

I met a few people biking along the trail, and not one of them even noticed the berries shining through the leaves.  I offered them a taste, and I hope they will look around them and see what nature's bounty has to offer.  People may be afraid of what they find growing wild - we seem to be afraid of so many things these days.  Or maybe they think they can just go to the store and get what they need.  But not so many years ago, people had no alternative but to eat what was available to find, and who knows - we might find ourselves in that situation again.

easy tea


Mint can be a very invasive plant, crowding out other more desirable plants.
Instead of fighting a losing battle to try to get rid of the stuff, give up and turn lemons into lemonade, or more correctly, turn invasive leaves into tea.
There's a colony of spearmint in my rock garden that needs some discipline, and some applemint by the house that is looking far too healthy.  So yesterday, I got busy.
spearmint
apple mint

I picked the leaves, set them on cookie sheets lined with foil, and put them in the oven at 120 degrees for 20 minutes.  The leaves made the houses smell wonderful as they were drying.
mint leaves ready for the oven



below:  the leaves are ready for tea. 


a purple lawn



This time of year, many lawns on PEI turn purple.  Wild creeping thyme, a low-growing plant, blooms and colours lawns with waves of purple.
When I worked at the sales counter at Vesey's Seeds, this plant was a controversial issue.  Locals would come in with an offending piece of it and declare their absolute disgust - they wanted to know about ways to get rid of it.  Tourists would come in and ask about the lovely shimmer of purple on people's lawns and ask how they could have some of that on their own properties.
Wild creeping thyme is very hard to get rid of.  It is not affected by pesticides, and hand-pulling is impossible, because the stems break off and the roots remain in the soil and re-grow.
On the other hand, it is hard to purposely establish it in a lawn.  Just throwing the seeds on your lawn probably won't work.  You would have to clear a space, scatter the seeds, and water until they germinate and become established.
I would tell people who are trying to get rid of it to relax and accept the things they cannot change.  Bees love the nectar - and the plants support much more life than a desert of manicured green grass ever will.