browsing through goldenrod

browsing through goldenrod 

blossoms a honeybee bearing

nectar and pollen

My neighbor's honeybees are working the goldenrod in our meadow. One wafts lazily from one golden panicle to another. Landing, she clambers among the multitude of tiny blossoms, probing for nectar, and inadvertently collecting a thick roll of pollen on her hind legs. There are so many varieties of goldenrod. This one appears to be Showy goldenrod, with smooth leaves and a pyramidal inflorescence. An Illustrated Guide to Iowa Prairie Plants indicates seven varieties of Solidago just in Iowa: Missouri, Tall or Canada, Showy, Smooth, Field, Stiff, Lance-leaved or Grass-leaved, and Riddell's or Narrow-leaved goldenrod. Some goldenrod plants a few feet away have toothed leaves. They're all pollinated by bees and wasps, so cross-pollination can result in natural hybrids. Clever way to create new varieties.

While watching the bees, I notice one of the blossoms wiggling. Only one. Peering closer, I detect a tiny worm, covered in goldenrod petals, weaving its head. If you look closely, you can see it in the middle of the photo, slightly duller than the surrounding flowers. I wonder, is the petal costume just an accident or is it using the petals as camouflage? Accidental or purposeful, it sure fools the eye!

perching on the peak

perching on the peak

of great blue lobelia blossoms

a blue damselfly

The striped lavender-blue trumpets of great blue lobelia are growing up between the giant leaves of what might be cup plants. I have my doubts about whether these really are cup plants because the small leaves on the tall stalks don't form cups at the base, but are connected with a petiole.

At the tip of the lobelia's panicle of purple-lipped blossoms a blue "darning needle" perches. The damselfly eats other insects, so I don't think she's looking for nectar. Perhaps she's preparing to lay eggs on the plant. 

This native perennial makes a bright splash of blue in late summer among the many yellow flowers. Its Latin name, Lobelia siphilitica, comes from the use of the roots by Native Americans to cure syphilis. Great blue lobelia blooms at the same time as its cousin, cardinal flower, Lobelia cardinalis. Both have fringed tubular flowers, but they attract totally different pollinators. Bees and wasps prefer blue flowers, whereas hummingbirds and swallowtail butterflies seek out red blossoms. Even when the cousins grow side by side, they will not cross-pollinate. Clever Nature!

wandering the woods

wandering the woods
I come upon a wonder --
giant Jack-in-the-pulpit

At the dead end of our gravel road, I decide to bushwhack through the woods, figuring I'll meet up with the path down to Pilgrim Creek. The path I find looks like it hasn't been used by anyone for years. But because I ventured off the beaten path, I come across the biggest Jack-in-the-pulpit I've ever seen. Each of the lobes of the tripartite leaves are as long as my fingers spread wide and the twin leaves come up to my knee. The seed capsule standing upright between the two leaf stems looks like a knobby green egg.

Another seed pod lying almost on the ground nearby is one turning reddish orange at the top. It will be bright red when fully ripe. Hope I can relocate it to collect some seeds!

hiding in spiky

hiding in spiky

purple thistle blossom

white crab spider

After the rainstorm the night before, I plow through shoulder-high stands of burr-bearing plants and prickly wild blackberries to a Tall Thistle holding aloft its candelabra of armored buds and lavender flowers. My mission: pull up the sturdy stalk by the roots while the ground is wet. I know butterflies, including Monarchs, seek the nectar hidden in the tasseled blossoms and Goldfinches like to eat the seeds. But if left unchecked, thistles can quickly take over an entire meadow. 

I reach down to the bottom of the stalk where there are fewer thorns to prick my bare hands. A sudden movement on the biggest blossom makes me stop and look. A white crab spider as big as my thumbnail scuttles sideways with its hind legs around the bulbous blossom. It's probably waiting to ambush some unsuspecting insect landing on the bloom so it can snag it with its large claw-like front legs. Under my watchful eye, it finally backs into the fluffy pompom. It would be well camouflaged against the green and white receptacle at the base of the blossom but it's not the least bit hidden against the purple flower. Its attempt to hide makes me laugh and I decide to leave this thistle to its tiny predator.

growing on the verge

growing on the verge 

between sidewalk and street

big white cap mushrooms

World Photography Day, had to take some photos. Two white discs on the green grass between street and sidewalk in town. Paper plates? No, BIG mushrooms! Each shaggy spotted cap, nearly flat, the width of my spread fingers. Perched on a thick stalk with a ragged ring where the cap detached. The center of the cap, a brown nipple. The underside radiating cream colored gills. I check the base, no sack, so not Death Angel. Appears to be a Shaggy Parasol. Certainly thick enough to make a meal. But I leave them undisturbed. I probably look pretty funny down on my knees, bent over, smartphone in hand. Maybe searching for Pokemon!

curving up and out

curving up and out

fairy parasols pushing up

along the wood chip path

Delicate white cap mushrooms keep pushing up through the grass along our wood chip path like a parade of Japanese parasols. The mushroom starts out as a tiny white cone on the ground, quickly elongating into a thin white stem with a bulbous cap, then spreading out, round and wide, like a paper parasol with tiny pleats and a brown button in the center. In a few days the parasol begins to droop and finally falls over in a ragged heap. A quick search suggests that our little shroom might be Parasola plicatilis (parasol pleated), commonly called Japanese Parasol or Pleated Inky Cap. Probably not poisonous, like the Death Angel, which emerges from a sack and has a much thicker stalk. These mushrooms might be edible, but they're too flimsy to bother gathering. Still, they light up our path and I am careful not to step on them.

 

barreling up

barreling up

from bare ground, naked ladies --

once again, surprise!

In early August our naked ladies made their dramatic appearance. Over just a few days the leafless arrowhead stalks shot up, unfolded into a cluster of magenta tongues, followed by fragrant ballerina blossoms. They didn't last long. A hard rain beat the shell pink petals into brown tatters. In other yards the late bloomers are still blooming in rows like chorus girls. The biggest surprise this year was the lone resurrection lily rising from what for many years was a circle of magic lilies growing incongruously in the middle of our yard. Maybe the dormant bulbs got too much rain this summer. I didn't plant any of these lovely ladies, but I hope next year the ones by the front door magically return.