August: journeys South begin #phenology

This is the month that the monarch butterfly migratory generation emerges in Minnesota and elsewhere in the North country. If you're interested, you can sign up and report your sightings at the "Journey North" web site. Monarchs aren't the only subject of interest, bald eagles, ruby-throated hummingbirds and other autumnal happenings are also of interest. However, in the Great Lakes region, and especially Minnesota, there have already been some reports of peak monarch migration.

a member of the migratory generation emerges

Photo by J. Harrington

Hummingbirds are still active at our feeders, along with yellowjackets. They may hang around until late next month. Every time we compare the size of these birds with the length of their migration, we realize their bodies must be about 90% heart. Maybe this year we'll actually note the first day the feeder remains unvisited?

hummingbirds keep coming to the feeders

Photo by J. Harrington

According to Jim Gilbert's Nature Notebook, this is the time of year to look for ripe fruit on common elderberry bushes. That's what we already reported that the Better Half has done. The elderberry pie we enjoyed last night was delicious, although eating a pie filling comprised of many, many BB-sized berries was a very different experience. It's far from apple chunks, cherries, peach slices, etc., but it doesn't approach Gertrude Stein's observation about Oakland, "there's no THERE, there."

August

Lizette Woodworth Reese

No wind, no bird. The river flames like brass.
On either side, smitten as with a spell
Of silence, brood the fields. In the deep grass,
Edging the dusty roads, lie as they fell
Handfuls of shriveled leaves from tree and bush.
But ’long the orchard fence and at the gate,
Thrusting their saffron torches through the hush,
Wild lilies blaze, and bees hum soon and late.
Rust-colored the tall straggling briar, not one
Rose left. The spider sets its loom up there
Close to the roots, and spins out in the sun
A silken web from twig to twig. The air
Is full of hot rank scents. Upon the hill
Drifts the noon’s single cloud, white, glaring, still.

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