One of nature’s past success stories is the Monarch butterfly. You can see the joy of life they share with their sister butterflies, the Queens, in the beautiful chrysalises pictured above. Both butterflies disdain camouflage and develop in bright green cases with golden beading.
Monarchs summer in Canada, then fly 3000 miles to winter in Mexico. Amazingly these long-distance travelers only weigh about .02 ounces; they have no lungs and use little vents in their thorax and abdomen for oxygen.
They stop off along the way to rest and lay eggs on the poisonous plant, milkweed. The caterpillar eats the milkweed and becomes poisonous as do the chrysalis and the butterfly. They are protected from all predators. But not from us.Their population has dropped about 97% in a few decades. Monarchs, named by Linnaeus in 1758, may soon be extinct. Their forests in Mexico are being clear cut and herbicides have destroyed almost all of the milkweed in this country. Activists all over the country are are working to save the Monarchs and urge us to at least plant milkweed in our gardens. link It’s an easy plant to grow and the Monarch caterpillars are beautiful.
No one wants the Monarchs to disappear. They are the official butterfly of Texas, Alabama, Idaho, Illinois, Minnesota, and West Virginia. But we love our pesticides and herbicides more. I imagine we will kill them all before long so that we can continue to eat spotless food grown in weed-free ground and maintain perfect lawns.
Another easy plant to grow is the mistflower, Conoclinium greggii. Butterflies love it, especially Monarchs and Queens. Dozens of Queen butterflies cover my mistflowers most of the summer. All butterflies bring joy to the garden. I love the Painted Ladies, the Fritillaries, the Sulfurs, the Swallowtails. The list is too long for this post. But all are great at pollination, flying from flower to flower, full of grace, showing off their beauty. They are on the hunt for nectar; that the pollen clings to their body and legs is just one of the ways plants are served by everything around them.
I love the photo above. The beekeeper from Two Hives Honeylink came on Friday to install a new hive for me. Her gloves are tossed on the ground with her clipboard; she is dressed casually, not in ‘bee gear’. I painted the new hive blue; a pink and a white hive are in the background. Bees need to be able to distinguish their hive so it is recommended to stencil an identifying symbol onto each hive or to paint the hives different colors. I have a stack of yellow boxes painted and waiting in the garage for installation of a fourth hive this year. I like having bees, but it is a challenge.
I described the beginning of my bee journey last December when I learned that honey bees are European in origin and our native bees, most of whom live in the ground, perform the vast majority of bee pollination. link The next week I went on to describe the human penchant for excess and our exploitation of honey bees and that losing our bees means going hungry. link
But all theorizing on the value of bees to humans has been set aside for the present. I am ‘on the ground’ here. I have a few healing bees stings, lots of frames to clean, painting chores left to do and an inspection by the beekeeper coming up later in the week. My white hive, generously donated to me by a friend, was opened after the blue hive installation. I went out to check on some equipment and the sentries from that hive were on high alert; they chased me, got in my hair and stung me twice. They were still waiting later when the calf got stuck behind a log and that rescue led to a third sting. When I told Beekeeper Sarah I had been stung, she very matter of factly said ‘yes’, the bees in that hive were upset and had stung her several times. I want to be like Sarah, but find there is some wiring in my brain that triggers an emotional response to these bee encounters that far exceeds the short-lived initial pain from the bite or the mild itching the next day. Entomologist, Justin Schmidt has studied the disproportionate reaction of humans to insect bites. He has found insects in general inject far too little venom to do serious harm and that dog bites kill more Americans in a single year than stinging insects.
But pain matters more, says Schmidt than killing power; from the insect point of view, the infliction of pain ‘liberates’ stinging insects from predators and opens ecological niches. Honey bees can visit flowers without harm from birds, for example. Not all animals respect the sting. Schmidt points out that bears put up with bees stings for honey. “Capuchin monkeys will gobble down a wasp’s nest full of juicy larvae as if it were a ham sandwich, the stings seemingly no worse than a little hot mustard on the side. Harvester ant stings have evolved a whammy wicked enough to scare off birds, amphibians, and almost everyone else. But the horned lizard has called the ant’s bluff by becoming resistant: It licks the ants up with impunity.” link Nature is tough.
Beekeepers often get used to the toxins of stings, the effects of any sting reduced to a slight inconvenience. However, repeated bee stings can also cause a serious allergic reaction; and, of course, a single bee sting can cause a debilitating injury, even death— which demands absolute respect for this little insect. To be able to draw upon a serene and peaceful mind when working with bees is dazzling to me. The bees respond in kind, revealing serenity and peace to humans they approve of.
Keeping bees has been going on for thousands of years with beekeepers seeking zen for the benefits. As important as bees are to pollinate our crops, the honey they produce has been used to treat wounds and intestinal problems. Honey is an antimicrobial and can help infection; it can help boost immune systems and sooth skin disease. link
The hummingbirds flew in about a month ago. I had their sugar water ready and waiting. The tiny birds seek sugar-rich nectar from plants but they will supplement with my feeder to support their extraordinary metabolisms. “The average man burns about 3,500 calories a day. If the daily output of a hummingbird were calculated for a 170-pound man, he would need to burn about 155,000 calories.” link
Eating voraciously, they facilitate the grand romance of flowering plants or angiosperms. Angiosperms made a major breakthrough about 100 million years ago. The breakthrough using pollinators to fertilize eggs in one plant with sperm in another. link
About five years ago, scientists in Spain discovered pollen from what was believed to be an ancient Ginkgo tree locked in amber. Thrips were seen harvesting pollen grain.
Ginkgo trees are either male or female and the marvelous delivery by thrips of the pollen cones of the male trees to the ovaries of the female trees began a journey of –well, sexual interchange between plants by pollinators. link As the years went on this reproductive strategy was wildly successful. There are more flowering plants on earth than anything other than insects.
But plants have to attract pollinators and they do so in different ways for bees, bats, butterflies and, of course, hummingbirds.
Perhaps 7000 species of plants now depend on about 361 species of hummingbirds for pollination. Plants that depend upon hummingbirds for pollination have ‘pro-bird’ and ‘anti-bee’ traits. For example, hummingbirds do not need scent while insects do. Their vision is excellent, so hummingbird flowers are most often unscented but bright in color.
Hummingbird flowers are deep, the hummingbird’s tongue and bill are perfectly adapted. The bill is sharp and can slash a flower open if necessary for nectar. The little bird’s tongue extends beyond the bill, the front part split with curled outer edges that work like a straw. link
There are dozens of amazing hummingbird facts: they can fly 60 miles and hour; their hearts beat as high as 1,260 beats per minute; a wing modification permits them to fly forward, backward, up and down (no other bird can do this). link
If you don’t want the trouble of a feeder, good plants to attract these amazing creatures include: trumpet honeysuckle (Lonicera sempervirens), scarlet beebalm (Monarda didyma), lemon beebalm (Monarda citriodora), wild bergamont (Monarda fisulosa), cardinal flower (Lobelia cardinalis), trumpet creeper (Campsis radicans), columbine (Aquilegia canadensis) and any of the salvias. link
I am not sure it would not have been easier for plants to devise some ambulatory system to reproduce, like animals. It seems so complicated to produce a specific flower for a specific pollinator. Perhaps this ancient system is superior. It would be odd to see trees and bushes wandering around, going to sports bars, using online dating services.
I saw my Great Pyrenees jump three feet in the air earlier in the week, he grabbed a branch of a peach tree with his jaws and pulled it down to unbalance a squirrel. The Karakachan, barking madly, was defending the squirrel’s escape through a second peach tree. I walked out with my broom to help. Describing the scene to my son later, it took a few minutes to sort out that I went out in support of the dogs–not the squirrel. I am the Plantswoman after all. These two dear trees have battled their way through a big patch of underground Calcareous soil, negotiated a bad late freeze, resisted the fearsome plum curculio that burrows into peaches and they have somehow avoided the ubiquitous peach curl.
I would share a few peaches with the wretched squirrels, but they will take a bite from every peach on the tree looking for a ripe one. So in a primitive kind of air support, I was shoving my broom into the upper branches of the trees. The squirrel made the most amazing leap for the fence, covering maybe 10 feet. The Pyr had the very end of his tail for a fraction of a second, then the highly motivated squirrel jumped more than 10 feet to land in the 60-foot Live Oak and won the day. The dogs and I stared in admiration.
Not surprisingly, I was on the side of the microbes, bees and butterflies while I was waiting in line at Home Depot later that day. Ahead of me was an intelligent, thoughtful-looking man paying for a huge stack of bags and several large plastic bottles. The bag labels promised to grow grass and eliminate ‘weeds’; I could not read the bottle labels. I have the deepest respect for anyone who wants\s to grow anything in our rocky soil and hot summers. I entertained myself by imagining that the man had carefully researched the weed killer to make sure that the microbes and earthworms in his yard would be safe and that he had made sure the bottles contained nothing that would harm bees and butterflies. I am an optimist.
But not a purist. I shot a little Round-up on two 6-inch sticker bushes in the back pasture only this morning. I use this weed killer very sparingly. Round-up isn’t even a poison; it prevents amino acid uptake in plants and every plant it touches dies by the application of modern chemistry. https://www.biology.iupui.edu/biocourses/N100/goodfor13.html This isn’t to say Round-up is a good thing. Not only did Round-up come out of research that produced Agent Orange, millions of gallons are poured onto farmland every year. Nevertheless, when a prairie plant is pulled up, it leaves a hundred little roots that turn quickly into a hundred plants- often with stickers. I have studied modest Round-up use and believe, used sparingly, it may stay in the soil for about four months. Even experts at the Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center believe it is safe for pollinators and probably safe for microbes and earthworms. I guess the point is a gardener should research what any chemical does and have a good reason to use it (my poor lambs suffer from stickers in their little faces) and use it as rarely as possible. I like using a broad approach.
Such an approach is sometimes termed ‘holism’. In his Metaphysics, Aristotle, summarized holism as “The whole is more than the sum of its parts.” Holism Gardeners would love to believe that they can eliminate problems if they create a healthy whole. The philosophical roots of holism raise the question of ‘healthy’ for who? I imagine the principle could be argued from the side of aphids or stink bugs or fungus since they have a point of view too. But the concept– from the human perspective– is very tempting. Even the very conservative Texas A&M University devotes two acres to a holistic garden. A&M Holistic Garden It seems wise for humans to devote themselves to overall health: of themselves and their favored plants, animals, insects and microbes. It seems a good goal to be be on the side of the long view and not a quick fix in a brightly colored bag.
If everything works together; if the soil full of healthy microbes and rich nutrients; if the air is clean and the rain plentiful, but not too plentiful; if pollinators are healthy and abundant—then a plant or tree is full of vigor and able to resist diseases. It can be filled with the joy of living and can, for example, produce peaches. That wind up as Brandied Peaches on the Plantswoman’s kitchen counter.
Traveling by train last weekend, I saw field after field of corn, about waist high, growing without a single weed in sight. I am a little grumpy about all this corn since I planted eight hills of it and have two plants up–both about ankle high. I put in a hybrid, bought at the grocery store, that I imagine has been bred to require lots of commercial fertilizer. Modern corn varieties absolutely love petroleum-based commercial fertilizers. Production skyrocketed after WWII. In 1947 the huge munitions plant at Muscle Shoals, Alabama, stopped making explosives and finding themselves with lots of leftover ammonium nitrate, started making chemical fertilizer. The world quickly followed.
Michael Pollan tears into the modern use of corn in a lively series of articles written almost ten years ago. http://michaelpollan.com/tag/corn/ Pollan says the descendants of the Mayans who have described themselves as The Corn People are mistaken.
We are The Corn People.
Pollan writes “…the great edifice of variety and choice that is an American supermarket rests on a remarkably narrow biological foundation: corn. It’s not merely the feed that the steers and the chickens and the pigs and the turkeys ate; it’s not just the source of the flour and the oil and the leavenings, the glycerides and coloring in the processed foods; it’s not just sweetening the soft drinks or lending a shine to the magazine cover over by the checkout. The supermarket itself–the wallboard and joint compound, the linoleum and fiberglass and adhesives out of which the building itself has been built–is in no small measure a manifestation of corn.”
Tom Dawson at the University of California-Berkeley tests hair strands which reveal the amount of corn in the carbon of any given person. In a piece for CNN, Dr. Sanjay Gupta had his hair tested and he revealed that 69 percent of the carbon in his body came from corn. http://www.cnn.com/2007/HEALTH/diet.fitness/09/22/kd.gupta.column/
Dawson says we are like walking “corn chips.” The, mostly invisible corn in our diets comes from more than eighty million-acres of corn; Pollan describes is as a ‘second great lawn.’ And Pollan complains that “… it’s too bad we can’t simply drink petroleum directly, because there’s a lot less energy in a bushel of corn (measured in calories) than there is in the half-gallon of oil required to produce it.” Ethanol comes to mind but that is another story.
The production of corn comes with costs to our finances, our environment and to our health. Corn is highly subsidized by my tax dollars. It costs more to produce than is sells for and I help make up the difference although profits from corn are in the billions. Much of the acidity in our rain, the algae clogging our waterways and the agricultural contaminants that result in dead zones on land and in water come from our millions of acres of corn. Our health suffers as well, the epidemic of obesity and diabetes may be related to the use of ultra refined corn products.http://michaelpollan.com/tag/corn/
Then there are the factory farms. Herbivores evolved to eat grass; corn gives them stomach pain which requires antibiotics to keep the poor souls living until slaughter. Not that I am advocating any form of vegetarianism; that requires plowing up river banks, cutting down forests, transforming prairies — at the cost of destroying biodiversity (wild plants, animals and insects). Biodiversity has declined by more than a quarter in the last 35 years; perhaps over 50% since 1970. http://wwf.panda.org/about_our_earth/biodiversity/threatsto_biodiversity/. In part this destruction is to provide the seeds, nuts, oils and soy for a non-animal diet. Poor corn; it’s not the only problem.
Excess is the problem. Corn was just another grass plant, called teocintle by Meso-Americans 10,000 years ago.They grew what they considered a gift of the gods in every color: yellow, red, purple, brown and orange; they grew ears a few inches long and ears several feet long. Corn loves change. It loves being bred and re-bred and it may love genetic modification. Like the Mayans we love to play with corn’s genetic elasticity; we genetically modify it to survive herbicides and corn can live where everything else dies. Glyphosate (Round-up) kills everything it touches; except genetically modified corn. Gallons of the herbicide are poured on farmland each year to make life nice for this spoiled baby of a plant. Author Betty Fussell calls corn a genetic monster. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2015/07/14/how-corn-made-its-way-into-just-about-everything-we-eat/?utm_term=.93f9ed9e1b05
It is fanciful to think my corn can sense my ambivalence; it may not like being called a monster. It is more likely I don’t care for it as well as the large and healthy tomato, potato and onion plants, baby it like I do my broccoli, cabbage and cauliflower. I did not even go to the trouble of ordering corn seed that liked my practice of feeding with manure and compost.
As a child I was teased for loving corn so much. It is sad that this wonderful food, one of the best parts of American summertime barbecues, doesn’t like me and I’m not too happy about it either most of the time– well, of course, buttered with a lot of salt, hot off the grill, that’s a different thing altogether.
One of my favorite writers asks ‘how shall we live?’ For me the answer is to live in a garden. And what garden would be complete without the great joy of growing fruit; the word itself comes from the Latin frui, meaning enjoy. During Spring, the fruit trees are full of promise. Not all promises are realized at present; my apple, mulberry, nectarine, citrus and jujube trees are what might charitably be said to be ‘coming along’.
But two of my peach trees are loaded with peaches, full of color but not quite ripe. The variety, ‘Red Haven’ is so far resisting the multitude of peach diseases. These peaches are not large but have great flavor and I use them to make peach juice to mix with Champagne for Bellinis. I also grow the venerable peach, ‘Sam Houston’; it blossoms very late and sets fruit late; avoiding the destructive late freezes that can kill the blossoms of ‘Red Haven’. It is a wonderful tree.
The next fruit to ripen will be the blackberries. I have planted at least a half dozen varieties of this berry and all have died with the exception of this beautiful plant named “Apache”, a thornless variety. Last year I bottled blackberry cordial but it was too sweet for my taste.
I plan to simply freeze them this year to put in homemade ice cream. The problem with the fruit is that it does not ripen all at once but it is easy to put them in a freezer bag as they come along.
Figs suffer from the same ‘problem’. They ripen a few at a time over weeks and weeks. This makes it hard to put them up. Otherwise, I love growing figs since they do not suffer much from pests. Now the figs are tiny and bright green. They will get fat and brown by midsummer.
I have a recipe for figs preserved in brandy I found in Paul Virant’s wonderful book The Preservation Kitchen. I will do what I can to assemble a couple of ripe quarts for Christmas desserts.
My “Santa Rosa” Japanese plum tree is not bearing as well as I would like. I have planted another plum, “Methley”, a reliable and beautiful tree (according to the plant catalogue). I ordered it to provide extra pollination. Two plum trees, the Methley and the Santa Rosa should produce better than one, even if both varieties are styled ‘self fertile’. The little green plums should be fat and purple by June.
Another tiny green fruit: grapes. I grow the “Black Spanish” bunch grape and “Blanc du Bois” both resistant to Pierce disease and mildew that plague grapes here. Soon the birds will be planning to strip the vines of ripening grapes but I have netting ready to use this year. I plan to sew it closed around the grapes with a big tapestry needle threaded with twine. If I am successful (for the first time in this battle with the birds), I shall have grape juice for my holiday Sangria.
The Kieffer pears won’t ripen until the fall, just when we need fresh fruit. I hope for a good crop this year, I planted a Sugar Pear last year for better pollination.
Another fall fruit is the Persimmon. When ripe, it is bright orange and this will be my first year to harvest these unusual fruits. My tree is covered with the most beautiful little green persimmons.
When they ripen, I plan to make want the make
Creamy Persimmon Sorbet– recipe by Max Falkowitz Editor of Serious Eats: New York
4 to 5 large persimmons (about 20 ounces; see note above), peeled and chopped 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 cup very strong black tea, or water
1 teaspoon fresh juice from 1 lemon (more or less to taste) 1/2 teaspoon salt
Combine persimmons with sugar in blender or food processor and process on high speed until very smooth, about 30 seconds. Pour through a strainer to measure out 2 cups of purée, reserving remainder for another use.
Transfer purée to a medium-sized mixing bowl and whisk in tea, lemon juice, and salt to taste. Chill in freezer until mixture is very cold, 2 to 3 hours.
Churn in ice cream maker according to manufacturer’s instructions. Serve immediately as soft serve or transfer to an airtight container and chill in freezer for 4 hours for a firmer texture.
So I make promises too. I want to share a taste of warm weather with my friends and family when it gets cold this winter. It’s a way to live.
I walked into the barn to gather eggs last weekend and stared with amazement when I saw a very large snake in one of my nesting boxes. It was too big too be all the way in the box and at least three feet of its tail hung onto the floor. I don’t like snakes. They scare me. Even when I know they are benign, they give me the creeps. I didn’t see a rattle on the tail and saw no red or yellow in any configuration so I decided I did not need to call for help with a venomous snake.
My inner cave woman clicked in and with murder in my heart, I grabbed a large shovel and opened the back door of the barn for better visibility. This is surely a libel to cave women since any respectable cave woman would probably know which snakes would be a threat and which were benign and knew how to deal with each kind. I sank the shovel into a spot about six inches from the snake’s head and, even with my not inconsiderable weight, I had absolutely no impact on the skin or bones. Cutting through a snake’s skin must be a job for a very sharp knife. A big knife. The snake flattened itself on the bed of hay in the nest and slithered toward the open door. I made one more attempt with the shovel which he evaded and he dived out the door and under the ramp.
I headed to the house and the internet to figure out what to do. Comparing internet photos and my memory, I decided I had acquired a bull snake (pictured above), a rat snake or a king snake. All three of these snakes are considered benign to humans and believed by most ‘authorities’ to be a beneficial on a farm since they eat mice, voles, gophers, rabbits and squirrels. All three are four to six feet long and all like chicken eggs.
I hope I don’t have a bullsnake. They also eat bird eggs and birds, climbing into trees to get to the nests. On the other hand bullsnakes are said to eat rattlesnakes. Bullsnakes can also be aggressive when attacked and my snake didn’t want anything to do with the ‘shovelcreature’, he headed for the door as fast as he could.
My snake had some pink on its sides and stomach so I am inclined to think that it was a rat snake. They like areas near water and I have a pond and a creek. They like barns and outbuildings and are the most common snake in suburban areas. But they pretend to be dead when attacked which my snake did not do. So, perhaps I have a kingsnake.
Kingsnakes also like water and trees. They are active during the daytime, particularly the morning. They eat copperheads, cottonmouths, and rattlesnakes and are resistant to the venom of pit-vipors. What a formidable creature!
Most ‘internet’ advice was that I should keep my snake. I can certainly use help with the mice and squirrels. One chicken-keeper said if you have a snake in your nests, you need better chickens. I am doubtful that anything that would dine on rattlesnake meat would be afraid of my chickens, but I spoke to the chickens about this failing on their part. I haven’t seen the snake again and don’t know if it is fearful of the shovelcreature or the chickens. I also cleaned the area with bleach so it may not like bleach.
I seem to be missing one or two eggs a day, but we have been experiencing a great deal of rain and the chickens don’t lay as well during these downpours. But, the creature may just zip in for an egg or two when I am not around. I don’t really mind if the snake helps with mice and squirrels.
I have decided to keep the snake for a while. My friend at the feed store said that is a good idea, but sometimes snakes develop a voracious appetite for eggs and will clean the nests out and also, that sometimes snakes will reproduce and I’ll wind up with three or more snakes. Then I’ll have to ‘do something’. Excess. An old friend– I complain about it almost every week. It’s what gets us in the end.
I attended a beautiful performance of music this week in a church built in the 1850’s after the flood of Anglican immigrants into Texas. Loaded with architectural features, perhaps too many, I picture the enthusiastic new settlers, determined to improve on the old Spanish Mission Churches. But the old mission churches have a kind of grace that cannot be topped by enthusiasm and wealth. The Spanish monks had come here to improve Native Americans when Spain was conducting its religious Inquisition. Imagine. The desire to improve leads us all down difficult paths.
What would the Chinese gardeners who improved the beautiful Wisteria sinensis hundreds of years ago think if they learned this grand plant is now banned in many American states. It is listed as an invasive, swallowing trees and clogging waterways throughout the American South. http://www.texasinvasives.org/plant_database/detail.php?symbol=WISI
I dutifully planted Wisteria frutescens, (pictured above). It is a pretty lavender color with 6-inch racemes and no scent. But the Chinese plant is the most vivid purple or blue with racemes at least 12-inches long. It grows lushly and smells heavenly. I long for one, but resist.
I like improvements. I bought an ‘improved’ Kieffer pear tree two years ago. Pear trees, especially the Kieffers, used to be rock solid, a touch of disease maybe here and there, but entirely reliable. My grandparents had two huge trees with fruit crowding the branches. Then fire blight moved in and pear trees were devastated. I have tried pruning off the blackened branches that occur when the bacteria strikes and aggressively used the strongest organic sprays I could find. I even poured bleach around an infected tree as instructed. What I do now when I see a blackened branch is spray with Neem Oil up to half a dozen times during the season. Neem Oil is pressed from the fruit and seeds of the Neem plant, native to the Indian subcontinent. It is one of my favorite organic controls. My Kieffers, the improved and unimproved are able to recover with this gentle assistance. Both trees are equally beautiful so I am waiting to see the difference–cheering for the little improved tree to pull ahead since, I am, after all, a modern woman.
Modern or not, my head spins when I read seed catalogues and I ordered a corn seed hybrid last year called “Gotta Have It” from Gurney’s. You would think the name would have been a warning. Gurney’s treats its corn seeds and promises a half dozen improvements. The seeds arrived and looked like pieces of the ‘fiery’ Cheetos for sale in gas stations. Since the catalogue did not give specifics, I called the nursery to make sure these seeds would not hurt my bees or earthworms. Given some sketchy, if reassuring answers, I planted the things and they did not do any better than the old fashioned varieties like “Silver Queen.” The corn story is a future post; its greedy nature, the chemicals used in its production– and corn costs about 30% more to grow than its sale price. I admit to having issues with growing corn at all; I only have room for about a dozen plants and they need more hand germination than I have provided in the past so I get ears full of kernels. But the plants are beautiful in the garden and my cow and sheep consider a freshly pulled cornstalk the equivalent of dinner in Paris.
I am dedicated to improving my soil. I have a fair amount of caliche and two to four feet of Blackland Prairie clay sitting atop about 400 feet of limestone. Early on I decided to introduce good grasses and herbivores to break up the clay, enrich the caliche and thereby develop verdant pastures teeming with microorganisms, dragonflies, butterflies and birds.
This plan is working out. Plus herbivores are fun to have around. My neighbor was surprised one day seeing my cow jumping and running and kicking up her heels. She said she always thought cows were slow, sedentary creatures. Today I arrived with a new round-bale of hay and the cow began running circles around the truck, diving between gates and kicking up her heels; all of which would have been more entertaining if I had not been negotiating a 1000 pounds of hay through the gates.
Perhaps my cow is so agile and active because of her small size. She is a Dexter and weighs only about 500 pounds while a ‘normal’ cow weighs in at about 1300. Or perhaps, she is just naturally high-spirited and leads a happy life here with me–spoiled rotten really. In any case her calf stood and stared at her antics, I didn’t actually see any eye-rolling but the calf made me think of a human teenager embarrassed by a parent. Her eyebrows definitely lifted.
Controlling herbivores is important: they can destroy good land as we can see in the deserts of Pakistan or the bare Greek hillsides. One control I use is to rotate my sheep and cow between three small pastures. First, the grasses need to regenerate after they have been ‘mowed’. Second, worm larvae deposited in the animal manures, hatches and crawls up grass to be eaten, thereby gaining entrance to the digestive systems of stock. The result is debilitation of the grazing animal. Fortunately the life cycle of the these digestive track worms is 21 days, so if the pasture is not used for 21 days, the worms die. Rotation has worked for me and I have never had to treat an animal for worms.
I have about six feet of fencing between my back and middle pastures that is not entirely secure. My Great Pyrenees is able to dig a hole under this section of fence and both of my dogs can then move from pasture to pasture. We had a coyote eying the lambs for breakfast last weekend so the dogs were able to guard the entire perimeter without my having to go out and open gates. But this convenience has ended.
Almost unbelievably, my sheep seem to have commando skills and can drop to the ground and crawl under the same hole in the fence used by the dogs. Yesterday, trying for a third time to stop this ‘security’ breach of my pasture rotation plans, I stacked logs on one side of the fence. The Pyr walked back and forth on his side of the fence sizing up possibilities for his next hole. The sheep stood close by watching him with absolute approval. The cow hates the sheep to be anywhere she cannot go and she bellows constantly when they shimmy under the fence. As the dog was investigating flaws in my barricade, she walked up to him, put her nose gently under his stomach raised him in the air and deposited him five feet away. Did I mention herbivores were fun?
I have a family of Red-Tailed Hawks living in one of my trees. The baby hawks are tearing across the sky, diving and screeching –learning their role: Predator.
Red-Tailed Hawks live comfortably with humans and we have been very comfortable together year after year. When I looked up the formal name of the birds, Buteo jamaicensis, I stumbled across the information that hawks, as well as eagles, vultures, falcons and owls are generally referred to as raptors. Raptors. The dinosaur heritage. The name raptor is apparently applied to birds with strong sharp talons for picking up and carrying away prey and who have hooked bills for tearing their prey to pieces. http://www.10000birds.com/
As fearsome as these Red-Tailed Hawks might be to rabbits, squirrels, rats and mice, they are homebodies at heart. They like to make a home in one place, long term. They are monogamous and generally mate for life. Both parents incubate the eggs that are laid in a big stick nest.
I have always thought my guardian dog and rooster protected my chickens from the resident hawks. The 100-pound Great Pyrenees will jump and snap at the birds when they fly too low. But it turns out Red-Tailed Hawks don’t care to eat other birds, although I think they like to tease my dog. Other hawks, like Cooper’s Hawks, prey on birds: robins, sparrows and chickens. A friend regularly has to watch as one of her chickens is carried away by a hawk. Farmers used to shoot them all but the decline of farmers has resulted in an increase in the hawk population, including my Red-Tails who were shot out of ignorance and the usual human tendency to overkill.
They are welcome residents here although my blood runs a little cold when I hear one of them has made a kill. As they carry their dinner skyward, they let out the most piercing shriek, full of triumph. Raptors.