lloydslensphotographyllc

Changing Seasons And Fleeting Moments

Hello friends! Tonight’s feature image is titled “Canadian Goose 71719” and is available for purchase by following the instructions at the bottom of the article.

“Time waits for No one” as the old saying goes. It seems like yesterday that I was so excited to see days begin to lengthen. I was ready to greet the spring flowers with open arms. But little by little the sun hangs his sleepy head earlier than yesterday. I woke to find yellow leaves loosely scattered throughout my lawn last week. They are the first to fortell of cooler days ahead. I’ll be welcoming the change with a bitter smile. I love the cooler days of late August and September with their low humidity and gentle breezes but it always leaves me wishing that the transition was slower. I have a strong urge to savor the next few weeks. Tomorrow we’ll see the return of the big yellow bus and the tiny feet that stand at end of each driveway. Some will wait with excitement about seeing their friends while others will have trepidation concerning the long hours away from home.

I have already seen the familiar V formation crossing the sky as this year’s brood of geese train for the marathon flights in their future.

But we don’t live in the past or the future. We have only this fleeting moment that we call life. Blink and moment is gone. Look too far ahead and the moment will slip by and fade away out of reach.

When I noticed the goose in tonight’s feature image I watched her closely. People were tossing food into the river and she was aggressively going after it. But every so often a piece would be missed and float downstream. If she chased the one she missed the others would get what was currently being offered. She would miss the current blessing. As I watched her I have struck by the thought of how man opportunities we might miss while trying to recover the past.

Our lifetimes are only what we have in the moment and this moment is so easy to lose. Don’t lose it because you were chasing the one that passed.

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Night Sounds

Color Photography, Uncategorized

A cool mist flows over Little Elk Mountain and the moon is the only light for miles. In late Summer and Early fall the singing of frogs is replaced by sound of katydids.

Katydid And Daisy Fleabane. — It occurs to me that some of my international friends may not know what a katydid looks like.

Of in the distance the screech owls are holding congress squabbling over who gets the territory. For a while their cries of “who” echo through the forest and fade into the night. Several hound dogs begin to bay at the Moon as it rises into the sky and peeks through the trees. I begin to miss the voice of the whip-poor-will from my childhood. In the distance the whistle of a train running along the river breaks pattern of natural sounds.

I gaze at moon myself as the night sounds surround me. My eyes grow heavy while watching the silvery light filter through my bedroom window. My final thought is “Moon beams bring sweet dreams”. No longer able to hold my eyes open, I drift off to sleep with nature singing my lullaby.

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Forage Friday #20 Joe Pye Weed

Color Photography, Forage Friday

Hello friends! Tonight’s feature image is titled “Joe Pye Weed And Butterflies 1” and is available for purchase by following the instructions at the bottom of the article.

There was a knock at door of the little cabin. The young father raised his head from his prayer position near his daughter’s bed. His own body ached all over which caused him to move slowly. His calloused hand slid back the wrought iron bolt on the door. His wife was stifling a coughing fit herself as the door creaked open. If not for the long braids and dark complexion he wouldn’t have guessed that tall man in the doorway was the Sachem. The Sachem held up a leather pouch and with a nod of his head acknowledged that it was a gift for the family in their time of need. The young father was concerned about allowing the allowing the medicine man into his home. The church elders had warned people that a heathen out of the wild shouldn’t be trusted but he was desperate. If his daughter’s fever wasn’t broken soon he feared that she wouldn’t survive the typhus. The Sachem spoke very little but went straight to work preparing the medicine. He gave some to the daughter first. Then her mother and finally the father. The yellow liquid was hard to swallow but by the next day the family was on the road to recovery. The Sachem gathered his things and was ready to move on to the next house and family that was suffering from the sickness that was filling the land. He left the leather pouch full of roots on the table for the family to follow up with. As he was opening the door to leave the young father stopped him to thank him for his kindness. The Sachem extended a tattooed hand in acceptance of the gratitude and gave his name as Joe Pye.

The story above of how Joe Pye Weed got it’s name varies a little depending on the source. Some variations say that Joe Pye wasn’t even Native American himself but a Caucasian who simply created the persona of a Sachem for marketing purposes. However, all of versions say that an herbal healer used the plant in tonight’s feature image to stop an outbreak of typhus. A few versions say that the word Jopi was Algonquin for “fever” and therefore the plant was “fever weed” and that the spelling was anglicized into Joe Pye.

However it happened Joe Pye Weed is traditionally considered to be a powerful medicine for a multitude of health issues. Since I’m not a certified expert I won’t be able to give advice beyond saying that it’s an interesting topic and that seeking out further information is probably going to be worth the effort. Some of the topics covered in the reference materials include flu like symptoms, broken bones and urinary tract infections. You should also know that there seems to be multiple varieties and therefore any medical potential could depend on the variety and growth conditions.

I have a multitude of these surrounding my property. The biggest advantage of having it around is the number of butterflies it attracts. The variety in the feature image is Sweet Joe Pye Weed. I presume it’s a little sweeter than the others. The plant is also tall. The ones close to my home are about ten feet tall. This shouldn’t be a surprise because they are members of the Sunflower family.

The last little tid-bit that I have this Friday is that my brother and I would use dead stems as makeshift swords. The brittle flower stalk seldom stood up to smacked together in wild fantasies of fighting a duel. Today I would be concerned about putting an eye out though.

That’s about all I have for Forage Friday this week but I’m curious to hear if you’ve ever used this one yourself. The comments are open to the public.

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The Organ Pipe Mud Dauber

Back and White Photography, Color Photography

Hello friends! Tonight’s feature image is titled “The Art Of Two Masons” and is available for purchase by following the instructions at the bottom of the article.

Scattered throughout the barns, sheds and attics of Eastern North America are clusters of nests that look like something from science fiction. Deep within the clay tubes the brood of a winged predator sleeps. Their armor is shiny black with blue highlights. Hidden within the tail is a venom that completely paralyzes it’s target but doesn’t kill. It’s sleek body moves through the air effortlessly. It’s eyes see into ranges that we can’t perceive. But this strange creature isn’t interested in world conquest. It simply wants to exist quietly and unnoticed. And if you’re one of millions of people who are put off by spiders the Organ Pipe Mud Dauber is your best friend.

As a kid we just called them mud daubers. And it wasn’t until I was much older that I learned that not all of them make tubes like ours do. I remember the first time I heard that high pitched humming outside of my grandfather’s bedroom window. He got a kick out of watching my look around for the source of the noise. Eventually he told me that it was just a “Dauber” talking. It’s really amazing to watch them work as they land on the edge of a puddle or pond or anywhere that they can find some wet clay. The wasp digs around and makes a little pellet of mud which it carries back to just the right spot to build a nest. They need a place that’s out of rain where the mud won’t be washed away. They need to be close to plenty of spiders and their favorite prey is the black widow. The female builds the nest with special mouth parts that actually have little paddles on the end for shaping the mud.

I have left this one at full size so you see the little paddle on the end of the mandible.

I have always assumed that the high pitched buzzing sound that they make was the wings drying out the fresh mud. However the wasp seen here was “singing” even though it’s wings were not moving.

Mud Daubers are actually downright friendly when it comes to humans. The one here was really curious about the giant who was watching her work. She actually flew up and looked in the eye before going back to work. I was always afraid of wasps but the mud dauber wasps are as tug at as honeybees. I’m sure that if I’d tried to interfere with the nest that she would have become defensive but she didn’t really seem to mind me being right on top of her while she worked. Like a rattlesnake the mud dauber usually gives us a warning that we’re making them nervous. They’ll flick their wings as if to say “back off!” I really wouldn’t recommend pushing them but it seems to be a bluff. I have never had one make good in the threat. They’re almost domesticated. Venom is biologically expensive to produce and they need it to breed. The tubes are sectioned into cells and each cell contains a living but paralyzed spider for the young to feed on.

Nobody wants to have them inside the house but when you see that alien looking mud tube on the side of a shed or rocky outcrops near the home then it only means they’re out there keeping the spiders under control.

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Evening Treasures

Color Photography, Summersville Lake

Golden rays flow across the ridges and spill into the water. The remnant of the daytime sky pools over the lake providing inspiration of the lapis lazuli that was so precious in ages long gone. No gem set in metal rivals the Appalachian Mountains at sunset. No gilded box holds wealth so rich these evening treasures. Such treasures are not possessed but they can be held for a few fleeting moments.

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