Much of this eating is a good thing; remember the bee part of the birds and bees -- pollination and all that. And some of it is amusing to observe. For example, squash blossoms make bees go mad. They fall down into the pit at the bottom of the blossom, roll around for awhile, and emerge so drunk from pollen that all they can do is stumble around in a stupor for awhile before zigzagging off with all the grace of a C-130 Hercules cargo transport.
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| Pollen-laden Bee exiting the squash flower |
They attack the cimicifuga with equal zeal, though they have to share that tasty treat with smaller flying insects as well. Cimicifuga (which is really fun to say out loud) is also known as Bugbane -- though it would be better called Bugboon -- or Black Snakeroot, which is much too evil a name for such a pretty plant. It's one of the few with really dark burgundy, almost mahogany leaves. I've tried planting this multiple times, but the only place it's been happy is in a deep shade bed right alongside the house.
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| Cimicifuga in bloom |
Untouched by the sun, it exuberantly sends up long lacy flower stalks that attract all sorts of flying insects, who share the pollen in a sometimes uneasy detente. It's interesting that this plant is so attractive to insects, since for years it was ground up and used as an effective remedy for bedbugs. Nonetheless, once it blooms, it attracts so many buzzing things that it sounds as though the plant itself is alive. Here's a close-up of the collected throng so deeply embedded in the individual flowerlets that they're hard to spot. There are at least seven -- how many can you find (click on the photo to enlarge)?
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| Dinnertime amid the blossoms |
And every so often, I find a more destructive insect, like this fellow, who had just finished polishing of some anemone leaves. I did spare him -- just because he was such a cooperative poser -- but he'd better hope I don't see him again any time soon.
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| Attractive, but oh, so destructive |
Insects aren't the only diners we see in the garden. Squirrels abound in the oak trees, our rock walls are honeycombed with chipmunk homes, and both species view the flat ledge on top of the walls as their dining tables. They are terrible housekeepers, however, and it's not at all unusual to find the remains of one of their nighttime repasts littering another wall in the morning. One wonders if they're waiting for room service to remove the debris.
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| Remains of a late night snack |
I don't often catch them in the act, but yesterday morning I did interrupt this little guy's breakfast.
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| Caught in the act, and gone a split second later |
A second later and he was gone, leaving behind the remains of his breakfast.
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| Breakfast leftovers |
He and all of his friends and relatives have spent the past couple of weeks feasting on the berries from our Kousa Dogwood which, after several barren years, bloomed profusely this spring and subsequently produced a plentiful crop of berry-like fruit.
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| Kousa berries |
Both chipmunks and squirrels love these little pinkish globes, and as a result, we're finding their crumbs carpeting all of our stone walls these days. Apparently, the fruit is edible for humans as well, and can even be used to make wine. Perhaps that explains why the chipmunks go so crazy for them -- and never clean up after themselves! I have not yet tasted them, and I figure that if we leave all of these to the squirrels and chipmunks maybe they'll leave our other crops alone.
Raspberries, for example: paws off!
Oh, and we also indulge in some al fresco dining ourselves, though in a much more civilized fashion. After all, what's the point of growing all these veggies if we can't occasionally gorge ourselves? So here was our dinner treat last night: summer tomatoes, late but still delicious. Prepared with much more grace than that chipmunk displayed. And, yes, we did clean up after ourselves.
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| Yellow Brandywine and Prudens Purple, garnished with scallions |
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