A Conversation about Urgency

I was at the local garden center the other day. The nursery section is hopping, literally and figuratively. And buzzing and singing. All the trees and shrubs are lined up in orderly groups and are bursting with life at this time of year, especially those in flower or fruit. The songs are from the bees and other insects and the birds, even the zzzzt of the hummingbird. You can even Hear a butterfly flaps its wing if you're very very quiet. In the perennial flower yard, the sound effects were accompanied by a color and light show. All the miniature performers were dressed in their finest colors, and danced to their own music. Butterflies darted and glided, bees and flies bounced between the blooms. Some were there for the feast of nectar and pollen, others looking for a place to lay their eggs or to pupate. The urgency was unmistakable, even on a hot August day. These creatures are all aware of the significance of the shortening days, a signal to enter their next life stage, whether hibernating or migrating, or establishing the next generation before their own death.

If you're lucky, you will witness some of this seasonal carnival, because it is a celebration of life. As species become extinct or rare, we must be aware of the value of those we have. Every species is essential to some other, and the circle must continue. We are fortunate to witness this.

When I returned home from the garden center, I was treated to a tiny air attack. I am accustomed to hummingbird reminders to fill the feeder, but this time there were three at once, flying in “Top Gun” formation. You know I raced out to fill all the feeders. The migration is apparently going full blast if they're forming gangs. They need to fuel up for a trip of thousands of miles. Some go as far as Mexico and Costa Rica. Climate change has allowed more and more of them to winter as far north as North Carolina, and along the Atlantic seaboard. 

I didn't see them today, but whenever I see a hummingbird I look around in the flowers for his mimic, the hummingbird moth, also known as a hawk moth. This family of moths disobey a lot of the regular moth rules, particular the hummingbird moth. Unlike an ordinary moth, it is diurnal (daytime traveler), rests with its wings outspread, and it hums. Actually it's a sound made by the wings because they flap as fast as a hummingbird's. It also imitates the hummingbird in its acrobatic flying and even coloration. Very casual observers think it's a hummingbird. The size is pretty big for a moth. But if you pay attention you will see six legs, not two, and fuzzy coat, not feathers. Like every other unusual being, it has a collection of myths and misunderstandings following it around. It is a member of the hornworm family (Sphingidae), along with the dreaded tomato hornworm and tobacco hornworm. Our friend doesn't eat veggies, however. Its caterpillar eats shrubs like honeysuckle and wild grapes. So if you see a hornworm in a funny place, look before you squish. The caterpillars are distinct from one another...look it up before you act. Also, it would be a kindness if you left some areas unraked and natural, because these caterpillars and many others winter over as pupae in the leaf litter. There's a good article about these at:  https://extension.umaine.edu/home-and-garden-ipm/fact-sheets/common-name-listing/hornworms/