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Christine Schoene Maccabee

Got the Blues?

When I first saw an eastern tailed blue butterfly, I was startled. I stood stock-still as it opened and closed its small wings—brown when closed, and when opened, well, words cannot describe the beauty of the blue color flashing before my eyes. It sat on a flower for only a few moments, opening and closing its wings in the sunlight, as I stood there in awe. I treasure those few moments as some of the most rewarding in my efforts to create habitat for rare and endangered species, and I hope to see more breathtaking blues this summer.

Many years ago, I learned of the problems the blues are having with habitat loss: the Karner blue in New York and the Xerxes blues in California are both victims of urbanization. So, when I moved out here on my eleven acres, I was determined to plant as much lupine as I could. The entire life cycle of blue butterflies depends on ample lupine, clover, and even vetch and alfalfa, all of which are in the legume family. For awhile, I had an entire bank filled with lovely blue lupine, which I grew from seed. However, after several years, certain other native plants crowded it out and now I must protect the areas for lupine from them—which  can be rather intensive work. The flowers and leaves of lupines are beautiful, so it is well worth the effort.

The good news is that blues can also carry out their entire life cycles on clovers, even white yard clovers, and clovers grow easily on their own. Now, on my property, in small islands throughout the lawn, I am allowing clovers to grow. They must not be disturbed, as possibly eggs are being laid on them, and larva are feeding on them. As well, tiny ants are protecting them. Ants?, you ask. Yes, ants are critical for their survival. This is another one of those little known essential symbiotic relationships most people are not aware of, but which is absolutely fascinating, as most things natural are. Let me explain…

Briefly, the larvae of blues secrete a sweet honeydew from their abdomens to which ants are attracted for feeding. The larvae also have glands all over their bodies that secrete amino acids, a component of protein, which the ants can get simply by stroking the body of the larva with their antennas. Due to this, ants protect this food source by repelling insect predators and parasites that would do harm to the caterpillars. In a study made of this peculiar association, it was found that four to ten more caterpillars survive in the presence of ants. Great odds, I would say!

So if you who have a terrible aversion to ants, just know that they are one of the most important and amazing eusocial insects in the world and deserve our respect. Even though some are considered agricultural and household pests, in the right place, ants “bind together many terrestrial ecosystems,” according to the esteemed Edward Wilson, author of the Pulitzer Prize-winning book ANTS. Personally, I work around ants, and only on a rare occasion might I kill one.

Back to the blues. I do get the blues when I see all the clover mowed down in huge yards where nobody ever walks. Bees love them also for their nectar, so clovers serve multiple purposes. However, here on my property, I must deal with the “mower man,” and I do. This summer I am creating “blue butterfly zones,” and am soon to laminate signs with a picture of a blue butterfly on it to be placed on a stake in the middle of its clover habitat. If you have the heart to do this as well, and a mower man who will accommodate your interest, then do it. I suggest having several patches, not just one, and encourage neighbors to do so as well. That way there is not as much habitat fragmentation, and the butterflies and bees can easily fly from one patch to another.

On many occasions I have seen the tiny pygmy, or elfin blue butterfly (as I call them), so I suspect it may be fairly common. It is no more than a half inch wide and has powdery blue wings. Insects are quite clever at surviving in spite of habitat loss, and it seems the smaller they are, the better. Larger ones, such as the monarch, have a longer life cycle and, since they migrate, need lots of habitat. Most blues are usually about the size of a quarter, but are still in need of plenty of clover or lupine to thrive. Perhaps I will grow a patch of alfalfa next summer and see what happens.

Nothing important in life is ever accomplished if we are complacent, or indifferent. We can sit around angry, or depressed, singing the blues all our lives, or we can do our small part to help protect a fragile ecosystem right in front of our eyes. It might not happen overnight, but someday you might be lucky enough to see a gossamer blue butterfly float out of nowhere and land on a clover in your yard. That moment of pure beauty will confirm for you, as it did for me, the importance of doing something and never giving up.

Even if you look closely at your clovers, you may not see these larvae, as they are no more than a third of an inch long, but good luck trying. Perhaps you will find a four-leaf clover.

Christine Schoene Maccabee

The Swallows Are Back

I often wonder how many other people feel a thrill when the swallows return to our area in early May. In late April, I began to watch for the swallows with high expectation. Every year, the swallows are drawn back to my home like a magnet, much to my amazement and joy. Their nest of mud and grasses, lined with soft feathers, is perched in a corner of the eaves of my A-frame house. Due to the strength of this nest, and how well it is “glued” to the wood, it has lasted through many a fierce storm. It is the second nest the swallows created there in more than twenty years, the first one falling down just a few years ago. That particular spring, upon their return, they built another strong nest in the very same place, and I expect it to last just as long as the other one.

The first sign of the return of my feathered tenants is their excited chirping, and my day is immediately happier upon hearing them. They sound like they are having a lively conversation, which I guess they are, and my loneliness is displaced by their cheerful company. Since arriving here several days ago, the mated pair has been zooming all day through the skies, eating whatever they can find. Every spring and summer, they keep my atmosphere completely free of mosquitoes, so no Zika virus here. However, due to all the rain and cool weather this spring, the flying bug population is not so great yet. Hopefully the birds had plenty of food while traveling north after wintering somewhere in Mexico or some country in South America. Some swallows winter as far away as Argentina!

I wish I knew my swallows’ entire story, but at least I do know part of their story here in northern Frederick County. I have seen mothers, and fathers, sitting on their nest until the babies hatch. Thereafter, the wonderful partnership of the parents continues, taking turns feeding the nestlings, and themselves. It takes a lot of energy zooming around all day. It is a true joy to watch them fly far out over the fields, gathering what they can at lightning speed, and then bringing the food back to their eager nestlings. Usually there are four young ones, and once these fledglings leave the nest, the mother and father occasionally settle down to raising four more.

Birds, as we all know, are amazing creatures. We humans are fascinated with both their flight and their songs, not to forget their amazingly artistic colorations. Many a poet has written eloquently about them and artists such as Audubon have painted detailed representations of them (more than 1,000 to be nearly exact). Songs like “The Little Red Lark,” an Irish ballad, portray their amazing flights and songs, and airplanes were invented as we grounded-humans decided we, too, had to fly. This idea may or may not have been a good one. After all, birds are following their natural inclinations, whereas humans do not, and we are definitely polluting our planet with all of our unnatural contraptions, are we not?

So, perhaps that is why I am so mesmerized by birds, particularly the swallows. They are so small, seemingly so vulnerable, and yet they can fly such long distances with the greatest of ease. In fact, once here, it is estimated they can fly the equivalent of 600 miles a day in quest of food for their young, according to the Audubon Field Guide to North American Birds. So how is that possible, you ask?

In my research, I have learned, as many of you likely already know, that birds are very light (as light as a feather in fact) due to the fact that their bones are hollow and filled with air. Also, according to a book on Natural History by Bertha Parker, connected with a bird’s lungs are tiny air sacs scattered throughout its body. These air sacs act like tiny hot-air balloons. Therefore, a typical swallow weighs far less than a mouse, lizard, or frog of the same size. A bird’s streamlined body is another help in flying. Humans have tried to mimic these qualities, the closest coming to gliders of various types, and hot-air balloons. I will not say anything about all the other larger, costly, heavy planes, especially of war, which have completely digressed from Nature’s perfect plan.

So, back to feathers. Feathers also serve the purpose of protecting birds from rain and cold. They shed rain because they are a little oily and the intricate parts of the feathers are cleverly put together in lovely, serviceable patterns. Feathers also keep the bird’s body warm, trapping the heat; think of your down sleeping bag. This past winter, I remember telling my chickens to huddle close and keep warm, as I closed them up for the night in their unheated coup. I even worried a bit, but they weathered the cold winter beautifully, as they are fully and thickly feathered.

I am in total admiration of birds in general, and sometimes I wish I were as free as they are, unfettered by coats and boots and layers of clothing, and independent of automobile expenses. I envy them for their ability to fly and feed themselves without growing their own food or going into a grocery store.

However, as Popeye so wisely said, “I yam what I yam, and tha’s all what I yam,” and there is no escaping that fact! I do rather like having two strong legs, and arms I can reach to the sky with, giving praise for all the wonders of life. I am also thrilled to have my swallows back here for another season. I will miss them when they gather to go south in August, and I can usually tell when the time is coming by all their excitement as they zoom around my house with their happy, chirping fledgelings, full grown by then, and fully independent. Sigh.

I wish I could fly free as a bird, and be light as a feather!