An Eventful Week in the Abbott Annex of Homegrown National Park

 What a week it's been!

Last Wednesday, an immature Cooper's Hawk (Accipiter cooperii) caught, killed, and ate a Mourning Dove (Zenaida macroura) right outside my office window.  Yes, I felt bad for the dove...but the hawk has to eat, too.  It seemed really hungry and stayed in that same spot, eating nonstop, for over 90 minutes.

A new species of firefly has started flashing in the yard lately, during the time immediately after dark.  Unfortunately, I don't have any photos to share.  We noticed them Friday night, when our cable went out due to a storm.  With no internet to distract us, we sat on the front porch watching the storm - and serendipitously noticed the fireflies.  This species seems to flash in a fairly long, horizontal single flash - no "J dip".  I haven't been able to find an adult during the day yet; I'm hoping to so that I can try to identify which species this is.

This evening I thought I might re-enact my childhood and catch a couple in a jar, look at them up close, and then release them...but either fireflies have gotten a lot more elusive or I've gotten a lot worse at catching them.  It didn't help that it was lightly raining, thunder was grumbling, and there were occasional flashes of lightning in the sky.  My heart just wasn't in the project.  I kept seeing headlines that read, "68 Year Old Woman Struck By Lightning As She Tried To Catch Fireflies In A Jar".  I guess it would make a good family history story, though.

A new-to-the-yard firefly species would bring our yard total up to 4 different species of fireflies.

The eggs of the Eastern Bluebirds (Sialia sialis) have hatched.  Not only are Mom and Dad Bluebird busy getting food for the chicks, but there's a juvenile hanging around that I think may be from an earlier clutch.

Right outside the bluebird box, the berries on our large American Pokeweed (Phytolacca americana) have started to change color, and the birds are eating them as fast as they ripen.  Note the bright pink remnants of a berry cluster?  THAT bunch didn't last long!  

Cardinals (Cardinalis cardinalis) seem to be very common consumers, as do the Bluebirds themselves.  Blue Jays (Cyanocitta cristata) tried to come in to snack on the berries, too, but the Bluebirds were having none of that, thank you very kindly.  They were  extremely vigorous in driving the jays away.  The Bluebirds didn't seem to mind the Cardinals, though.  I saw one juvenile Eastern Towhee (Pipilo erythrophthalmus) hop into the bush, but a human visitor scared him away before I could see if he was just passing through or if he was actually there to eat.  And, if the latter, whether he would upset the Bluebirds.

Yesterday, I was lucky enough to see a Variegated Fritillary (Euptoieta claudia) bopping all around the back yard, laying eggs on a large number of Violets (Viola sororia).  I've understood for years that violets are the host plants for fritillaries, but I've never seen any sign of caterpillars on any violets that I've grown.  I'm looking forward to being a fritillary grandparent now!

The Variegated Fritillary took a few moments to relax from her labors and I was able to snap a photo - not a good one, but still enough to let you know what she looks like in general.  She was about the size of a Painted Lady or Red Admiral.

Note:  Apparently this species of fritillary differs from many of the other fritillary species in having additional host plants besides violets.  According to iNaturalist, in our yard the other host plants would be Plantain (Plantago sp.), Mayapple (Podophyllum peltatum), and possibly Yellow Passionvine (Passiflora lutea), since 3 other Passiflora species are listed as host plants.

Shortly after I lost sight of the Variegated Fritillary, a Spicebush Swallowtail (Papilio troilus) zipped in and seemed to lay eggs on the Spicebush (Lindera benzoin) by the back shed.  I was able to capture a photo of the butterfly, but I didn't catch her "in the act".  Now I know, though, that I'm likely to see the folded leaves that signal Spicebush Swallowtail caterpillars in the near future.  

As I meander in the yard this summer, I feel like I'm seeing an exciting increase in insect species, especially in butterflies and moths.  So far this year I've seen Spicebush Swallowtails (Papilio troilus), a Pipeline Swallowtail (Battus philenor), Tulip-tree Beauties (Epimecis hortaria), 2 species of Underwing Moths, Baltimore Snouts (Hypena baltimoralis), and over 15 other moth species that are "new to the yard".  Those are just the ones I've been able to take photos of that were clear enough to identify.  There have been many, many more moths and butterflies than fluttered away without posing for me.  And I'm only seeing the adults, the ones that weren't turned into baby birds or other animals when they were caterpillars!

I recently finished reading Oliver Milman's The Insect Crisis: The Fall of the Tiny Empires That Run the World, published in 2022.  It was a sobering read and reinforced my passion for rewilding our little space, working to create a bit of habitat where native plants and insects have a chance to live and flourish.

We started caring for this yard in the fall of 2019.  Over the course of that first year, I saw just a couple butterfly and skipper species - and no moths, despite being outside pulling Japanese Stiltgrass for what felt like days on end.  

The difference between then and now is so incredibly heartening.  It gives me hope.  We've removed invasive species, left the leaves, left native seedlings that were "planted" by birds, and we've also planted more native plants.  We haven't sprayed insecticides or herbicides.  That's it.  Nothing fancy or complicated.  That's been our management plan as we try to give nature some breathing space to recover.  And our yard has responded: it is infinitely more full of life now than it was 4 years ago.  We CAN have a positive impact.

Hairy Elephant's Foot, A Surprising Pollinator Magnet

At least until you get to know them well, there are some plants that are hard to get excited about.  Often that's because they don't have fascinating foliage or stunning flowers.  Just because a plant isn't classically beautiful, though, that doesn't mean it isn't greatly loved by pollinators and other insects.

Frankly, Hairy Elephant's Foot (Elephantopus tomentosus) is just such a plant.  It is a hard plant to photograph well.  For the first few months of spring and summer, it consists of a few large, hairy leaves lying flat on the ground, all coming from a central point.  Not glamorous, but definitely easy to photograph.

It's in July that the trouble begins.  The plants start to put up their flowering stalks, which rise for 12-15" above the basal leaves.  There is hardly any foliage on these stems at all.  At the top of each stalk, sudden branches stick out awkwardly, each crowned with a trio of small, bright green, hairy, pointy "leaves".  Nestled within those bracts, the small, lavender flowers open, dainty and subtle.  They open in the morning and close in mid afternoon.

These delicate little blooms wash out readily in a photo, especially in any bright light.   Their dainty airiness just looks sparse on "film", even though it looks charming en masse in real life.

A great plant for shade, Hairy Elephant's Foot grows well there, although it tends to be rather widely scattered.  Unexpectedly last year, I had an experiment in our yard when a neighbor cut down several large trees right near our joint property line and turned what had been almost complete shade into full sun, for 5-6 hours each day.

I expected the shade-loving understory plants that grew in that area to frazzle and die, which many of them did.  The Hairy Elephant's Foot, however, had a banner year, blooming prolifically and attracting an amazing number of pollinators and other insects - 21 different species that I was able to photograph!

So how do I best share the amazing number and diversity of insects that I observed?  A simple list, even illustrated with photos and spiced with bits of (hopefully) interesting information, seems overwhelming and ultimately boring.  So I thought I would talk about a few of the "categories" of insects that I observed:  1) Butterflies and Skippers, 2) Pest Control Squad - Solitary Wasps and Syrphid Flies, 3) A Predator and Prey Duo, 4) Native Bees - Pollinators Extraordinaire, 5) Flies, and 6) Passersby.

Two of the species I photographed using Hairy Elephant's Foot last summer are considered somewhat rare or threatened:  the American Bumble Bee and the Yellow-thighed Thick-leg Fly, a form of syrphid fly.  Both are shown below in their appropriate categories.

BUTTERFLIES AND SKIPPERS:

It's always fun to start with "the pretties" - and I've come to think of butterflies and skippers as "flying flowers", the prettiest group of insects overall.

Butterflies and skippers (and moths) are more than just pretty, though.  Their caterpillars are, according to Dr. Doug Tallamy, one of the primary ways that energy, captured by plants from the sun, moves up the food chain.  EVERYTHING seems to eat caterpillars.  For those of us who are birders, that's especially true of most of the songbirds, 95% of whom raise their young on insects, especially caterpillars.  

So in feeding adult butterflies and skippers, Hairy Elephant's Foot is also helping to keep those adults in our yard, thus supporting the production of caterpillars to feed the upcoming generation of birds and other animals here.

Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus), 8/19/23.   With a variety of host plants in the Magnolia and the Rose families, Eastern Tiger Swallowtails are fairly common across a wide range in North America.  In our yard, I'm guessing that they usually spend their larval time on Tulip Poplars, since we have several extremely large specimens of that majestic tree.  It's often easy to overlook the fact that trees can serve as important host and pollinator plants.

Zebra Swallowtail (Eurytides marcellus), 8/19/23).  If you don't have pawpaws, you won't have Zebra Swallowtails.  Our neighborhood has a plethora of pawpaws, in great part because deer don't like it and so it spreads with little competition in our deer-challenged yards.  Consequently, we have a plethora of zebra swallowtails.  Most of the time, these ethereal beauties are just floating through, but Hairy Elephant's Foot got them to stick around for a bit.

Common Buckeye (Junonia coenia), 8/20/23.  This was the first time I had seen a Common Buckeye in our yard.  I've started planting Carolina Petunias (Ruellia caroliniensis) as a "matrix plant" and it turns out that they, along with plantains, are host plants for Common Buckeye caterpillars, along with several other species.  So, was it a coincidence to see this one last summer, a year or two after I started adding Carolina Petunias to the yard?  Or the result of adding yet another native plant species to the local plantscape?

Silver-spotted Skipper (Epargyreus clarus), 8/23/23.  If you look very closely, you can also see a little crab spider under the flowers to the right of the skipper.  The caterpillars of Silver-spotted Skippers feed on many plants in the pea family, from Wisteria to Tick-trefoils, where they build a shelter with silk.  According to iNaturalist, it's unusual to see this species visiting yellow flowers;  they prefer blue, pink, red, purple and even white blooms.

Wavy-lined Emerald Moth caterpillar (Synchlora aerata), 8/23/23.  This is the only species of butterfly or skipper (or moth) that I have seen using Hairy Elephant's Foot as a host plant.  These little guys camouflage themselves by sticking pieces of the flower they are eating to their bodies, so this one has purple bits pasted to it, but the same species will have bright yellow bits on one of the Rudbeckias, white bits on Mountain Mint, etc.  Many times, it's hard to see the caterpillar body at all!  The adult moth is a very pretty light emerald green with wavy lines, as suggested by its name.

Other butterflies that I've observed nectarting on Hairy Elephant's Foot include the Sleepy Orange (Abaeis nicippe) and the Cabbage White (Pieris rapae).  Other skippers that I've observed include Horace's Duskywing (Erynnis horatius), Common Checkered Skipper (Burnsius communis), and Zabulon Skipper (Lon zabulon).

PEST CONTROL SQUAD - SOLITARY WASPS:

Wasps seem scary to many of us, but it's literally a few "bad apples" that have spoiled the barrel of public opinion.  Social wasps (paper wasps and yellowjackets) live in colonies, which they defend vigorously.  Solitary wasps, on the other hand, build nests by themselves and are not at all aggressive.  They will only sting if you attempt to catch them in your bare hands.  I have not observed any social wasps using Hairy Elephant's Foot, but I've observed several solitary wasp species doing so.

All wasps raise their larvae (their "babies") on meat, usually on paralyzed insects, sometimes on paralyzed spiders, and (for social wasps) on chewed up insects.  Because they raise their young on other insects and on spiders, wasps are important predators in our yards and gardens, helping to keep the populations of other species in balance and under control.

Solitary wasps paralyze various species of insect or spider and then lay an egg on the paralyzed prey.   Each different species of wasp preys on a different species of insect or spider.  After being paralyzed, the prey animal lives and provides fresh food for the larva when the wasp egg hatches.  Gruesome, to my mind, but very effective.

Double-banded Scoliid Wasp (Scolia bicincta), 8/20/23.  Scoliid wasps are scarab beetle predators, digging for beetle larvae (a.k.a. grubs) in the soil, paralyzing them, and laying an egg on each.  When the egg hatches, the wasp larva eats the beetle larva, then pupates in the host body.   These wasps are excellent grub control!  About 10 years ago, when we lived in south-central Kansas, I did an entire blog post on this species:  http://gaiagarden.blogspot.com/2014/08/double-banded-scoliid-wasp.html

Blue-winged Scoliid Wasp (Scolia dubia), 8/20/23.  Isn't this a cool looking wasp?!  I had never seen this interesting looking species before last summer.  As a scoliid wasp, it is another species that preys on scarab beetle larvae (white grubs), like the Double-banded Scoliid Wasp above.  It is thought that these species may also parasitize Japanese beetle larvae!  

Gold-marked Thread-waisted Wasp (Eremnophila aureonotata), 8/21-3/23.  I've always wondered how anything - food, blood, etc. - gets through that narrow waist!  Anyway, this interesting looking solitary wasp preys on larger moth larvae, like those of the sphinx moths and owlet & cutworm moths, for food for its larvae.

Fraternal Potter Wasp (Eumenes fraternus), 8/20/23.  There's a reason this little wasp is called a "potter wasp" - the female builds a gorgeous little mud pot in which she stashes the caterpillars that she paralyzes for her young to eat.  She then lays an egg and closes the pot, also with mud, making a perfect little nursery.

Weevil Wasp (Cerceris halone), 8/23/23.  Another solitary wasp, this wasp provisions the cells in her nursery burrows with paralyzed weevils from the genus Curculio.

A PREDATOR AND PREY DUO:

There are bees known as "cuckoo bees" that parasitize the nests of other bees.  Often this happens by the cuckoo bee following the female of its host species back to her nest.  When the host female departs for another load of pollen and nectar to provision her latest brood cell, the female cuckoo bee quickly ducks in and lays an egg.  Generally, when the egg of the cuckoo bee hatches, it either attacks and kills the larva of the host bee, or it hatches first and eats the egg of the host bee before it hatches.  Either way, the cuckoo bee larva then eats the provisions that the mother host bee stored for her own offspring, pupates, and emerges the following year in place of the young of the host bee.

The relationship between the host bee and the cuckoo bee is often very specific, with each cuckoo bee parasitizing only a single species.

How does the cuckoo bee find the host bee?  Well, she hangs out at the same "bar", so to speak.  The life cycles of the host bee and the cuckoo bee are perfectly timed to overlap, and both will be found nectaring at the same flowers.  I found such a pair using the blooms of Hairy Elephant's Foot in our yard:  the Two-spotted Longhorn Bee (host) and the Lunate Longhorn-cuckoo Bee (parasite).

Two-spotted Longhorn Bee (Melissodes bimaculatus), 8/20/23 - host bee.  This almost pure black bee gets its name from the two squarish white spots on either side of its abdomen.  Unfortunately, you can't see those field marks in this photo.

Lunate Longhorn-cuckoo Bee (Triepeolus lunatus), 8/20/23 - cuckoo bee (parasite).

NATIVE BEES - POLLINATORS EXTRAORDINAIRE:

More people are understanding the importance of our native bees for pollination.  The beloved Honey Bee is actually a European import, brought here by colonists who unsurprisingly wanted the honey it produced, as well as its pollination services.  But, for all we hear about honey bees pollinating plants, they are not as efficient at the job as many of our native bees are.

Before the European colonists arrived, there was no problem with pollination in North America.  This continent has almost 4000 species of native bees, often with life cycles exquisitely timed to coincide with those of the plant they evolved to partner with.  Some of these native bees are generalist pollinators, others are specialists who only pollinate one single species, still others pollinate the flowers of just a few plants.

I have not seen honey bees use Hairy Elephant's Foot, although that certainly doesn't mean they don't.  The bees I've seen pollinating this plant all fall under the heading of generalist native bees.  I'll start with two different bumble bee species.....

American Bumble Bee (Bombus pensylvanicus), 8/23/23.  According to iNaturalist, this species used to be one of the most common types of bumble bee, especially in the south, but 90% of its population has been lost in the last 20 years.  It is now considered threatened throughout much of its range.

Common Eastern Bumble Bee (Bombus impatiens), 8/20/23.  As its name implies, this is the bumble bee that I see most commonly in our yard.

Eastern Carpenter Bee (Xylocopa virginica), 8/20/23.  What looks like a bumble bee but has a smooth abdomen?  A carpenter bee.  Great pollinators, they do NOT eat wood...although they do tunnel into it to make their solitary nests.  The females will reuse existing nest tunnels, only taking the time and energy to excavate new tunnels when absolutely necessary.

Pure Green Sweat Bee (Augochlora pura), 8/20/23.  This beautiful little bee nests in rotting logs, a habitat that we have been restoring on our property.  The fertilized females also overwinter underneath rotting logs, waiting until it's time for them to emerge in the spring.

FLIES:

Many flies act as pollinators, although they are not as well known in that role as bees are.  The first species I share here is one of the relatively rare species I've seen on Hairy Elephant's Foot.

Yellow-thighed Thick-leg Fly (Tropidia albistylum), 8/23/23.  This is a relatively rare species of syrphid fly with a very unattractive common name.  As of this writing, there are only 212 observations of this species in iNaturalist, as opposed to 25,000-50,000 observations of two more common syrphid fly species that I've seen in our yard.

Greenbottle Fly (Lucilia sp.), 8/20/23.  This genus of flies (I can't identify this photo below that level) are scavengers, generally speaking.

There were at least 2 other species of flies that I photographed on Hairy Elephant's Foot, but I was unable to identify either of them further.

PASSERSBY:

Of course, in watching any plant or area, there will be some insects that just happen to perch for a while.  Rounding out this line-up of Hairy Elephant's Foot insect fans are a couple of those more incidental visitors....

Blue Dasher (Pachydiplax longipennis), 8/22/23.  This is a dimorphic species, meaning that the male and female look dissimilar.  This individual is a female;  it is the male that has the blue coloration for which the species is named.  Dragonflies are fierce predators of smaller insects.  I'm always hoping the ones I see are living up to their colloquial name of "mosquito hawks".

Eastern Tailed Blue butterflies (Cupido comyntas)  - and a Midge (7/30/23).   Hairy Elephant's Foot can even be used for a bit of canoodling, with or without a voyeuristic midge looking on.

In conclusion, Hairy Elephant's Foot is not a classically "beautiful" plant, but it sure packs a powerful punch for wildlife.  Including insects I've seen but not photographed, I've noticed over 30 different species using this plant - and the deer don't bother it at all.  If you can find a corner somewhere, I highly recommend it.  I've never seen Hairy Elephant's Foot "in the trade", but personal experience tells me that it transplants well.  Mine just showed up on their own.  Keep your eyes peeled or ask if anyone you know has some they'd be willing to share.  You'll be glad you did.  

Tiny, But Mighty, Pollinators

It's Pollinator Week, so it seems like a perfect time to write about pollinators.  Little pollinators, to be more specific.

The first spring after we moved into The Land of the Giant Trees, small white flowers with yellow centers appeared in relative abundance around the yard.  Although I was pretty sure these were some sort of fleabane (Erigeron sp.), I wasn't sure which one.

"Are they useful for pollinators?" Prairie Boy kept asking, "Because they look rather weedy."  The question amused and irritated me.  We have all been brainwashed to think that almost any plant that grows without being purchased from somewhere is a "weed".  I'm trying hard to uproot this attitude from my own psyche, but it's well established and deeply rooted, even for me.  

Despite my amusement about Prairie Boy's question, I had trouble answering it.  My instinct was to say yes, the fleabane was useful for pollinators since these plants were native, but I honestly wasn't seeing much action on the flowers.  No honey bees.  No bumble bees.  No butterflies.  (Although that last observation wasn't really fair, since we weren't seeing any butterflies anywhere.)

Surely SOMETHING was using the fleabane!

It seemed like a good idea to identify which fleabane we had.  It turned out to be Philadelphia Fleabane (Erigeron philadelphicus), a biennual. Now I could learn more about the plant and know what to expect from it in future years.

I started watching the blooms more closely...and I started noticing quite a bit of activity on the them.  However, almost all the visitors were tiny little insects that I literally couldn't see from very far away.  No wonder it didn't look like there was much activity on the fleabane until I started looking closely!  

The aster-like flowers of Philadelphia Fleabane are relatively small, about 3/4-1" in diameter, and most of the insects were MUCH smaller than the flowers.  In fact, many were so small that I had trouble identifying them much beyond "flying insect" with just my eyes.  As the days and weeks went by, though, it was obvious these tiny animals were, in fact, pollinators - and they were excellent pollinators at that.  The flowers developed into healthy seed heads in short order.

Eventually I started using my camera to focus on the tiny pollinators of Philadelphia Fleabane and other small flowers, trying to learn the identify of these minuscule creatures.  It's an amazing world that exists literally right alongside us - and yet most of us are completely unaware of these important little creatures who live inches from us.

As I explored this minute world further, I found a varied cast of characters.  Not only were there pollinators, but there were predators and parasitoids and even passers-by, who just seemed to be stopping in the neighborhood for a rest and a quiet "think".

For example, in the photo above, there is a Georgia Mason Bee (Osmia georgica) in the middle of the photo.  There is also a Club-horned Wasp (Sapyga centrata) in the upper left, a Harvestman (a.k.a. Daddy Longlegs) below that, a Crab Spider on the bloom just below and to the right of the mason bee, a tiny wasp about to land on that same bloom, and some other insect hiding on the other side of that blossom that I can't quite make out.  Any of these insects can be acting as pollinators as they move across the flowers, although the mason bee and the wasp are the ones we would traditionally categorize that way.  

Blue-eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium) is another native plant that I didn't see pollinators using until I started looking more closely - and with a camera.  This member of the iris family has beautiful blue, but tiny, flowers.  They average about 1/2" in diameter.

In the photo above, a small Blue-eyed Grass flower is being pollinated by a tiny sweat bee (Lasioglossum sp.).....

and, in this second photo, another small Blue-eyed Grass flower is being pollinated by a tiny Thin-lined Calligrapher (Toxomerus boscii), a syrphid fly which is not only a pollinator as an adult, but a fierce aphid predator in its larval stage.

One of our native spireas, Meadowsweet (Spiraea alba), is another plant whose small flowers often attract small pollinators to them.  Each individual Meadowsweet flower is less than 1/4" across, although these small flowers are clustered in much larger, showy panicles.

It's easy for us to see the Emerald Flower Scarab (Trichiotinus lunulatus) pollinating the Meadowsweet flowers above, but the tiny, black Tumbling Flower Beetle (Mordella sp.) just beside it is also a potent pollinator, despite the fact that this little creature measures only about 1/4", just like each individual Meadowsweet flower it visits.

Goldenrods are yet another example of plants with showy, gorgeous blooms...that actually consist of tiny individual flowers.  They often attract tiny pollinators, too.

Here is a cloud of tiny sweat bees (Lasioglossum sp.) pollinating the flowers on Wreath Goldenrod (Solidago caesia) last October. Lasioglossum bees are fairly common tiny, but mighty, pollinators.

I was taught about the role of insects in pollination by learning about the Western Honey Bee, (Apis mellifera) which is actually a fairly large bee.  I'm not a gambler, but I'd be willing to place a good-sized bet that you learned about pollination as a function of the European honey bee, too.  Did you realize that honey bees are not native in North America, and that many folks consider them an invasive species?!  

So how did the plants on this continent get pollinated before Europeans brought honey bees over with them?  Our native pollinators, that's how, and many of these native pollinators are TINY.  Our native pollinators evolved with our native plants to do the job that needed to be done, and they are exceptionally good at doing their job. 

Check your flowers this summer.  Look past the "giant" bumble bees and the "large" honey bees for the smaller pollinators.   Then take a moment to let yourself get lost in wonder at the Lilliputian worlds all around us. It's pretty close to magic for me. 

  

 

 

Then and Now: A Living Explosion

"The yard is alive, with the sound of music!  With songs that've been sung for a million years...."  (My deepest apologies to Rodgers & Hammerstein for that abysmal rewording of their song.)

The yard IS alive, now, but when we moved in, it was quiet and boring.  Here's a summary of our journey so far....

THEN:    

    When we moved to southeast Virginia in fall 2019, our "new" yard challenged us. 

    The Prairie Boy was overwhelmed by the trees, 100+' giants that dwarfed the prairie trees he grew up with.  He likes to see the horizon, and you basically can't do that when you are surrounded by giant trees.  The yard was an enigma to him.

    The Druid was excited about having real, live, BIG trees in her everyday life again, having a true forest garden.  Her elementary school days had been spent in the eastern deciduous woodlands and she missed the ambiance and the ecosystem.

    However, the yard has ended up stymying both the Druid and the Prairie Boy.  These weren't just tall trees, these were TALL trees.  The neighbors told many tales of trees falling unexpectedly and hitting houses, so every time the wind blew, a sense of uncertainty swept in as well.

    There were remnants of prior landscaping in the yard, but they were truly remnants:  solo large shrubs, deer pruned and lonely, unsupported by companions and some seemingly placed almost at random.  In the spring, daffodils emerged and bloomed beautifully, but there were no flower beds, there was no lawn, and there was little discernible landscape design of any sort.

    Making matters even less promising, the vast majority of the huge shrubs were non-natives:  Chindo Viburnum, Camellias, Burford Hollies, Little Leaf Hollies, evergreen Azaleas, (small) Boxwoods, and a huge Rhododendron.  For native shrubs, there were a couple large Yaupon Hollies, planted way too close to the old greenhouse wall, and 3 Yellow Anise Shrubs.  Neither of these species are technically native to southeast Virginia, but at least they were "near natives".  There were no true native shrubs.

    As far as the "forest floor" was concerned, the yard had a lot of Japanese Stiltgrass and other non-native weeds, a few huge clumps of old fescue, a bit of Poison Ivy, and not much else besides the springtime daffodils and summer snowflakes.

    How in the world could we bring this space to life?  How could we create cohesion, and even beauty, in this struggling and rather awkward space?  In the spring of 2020, shown in the photo above, our newly acquired yard felt barren, despite the towering 100' tall trees that graced it.  We'd been feeding birds all winter, but there was precious little other wildlife to be found:  a skink or two, squirrels (of course), and honeybees from neighbors' hives, but almost no native insects.  That summer we had an Eastern Ratsnake show up one day, only to be found dead in the neighbor's driveway not long after.  A Leopard Frog made a brief appearance, as did a toad or two.  That was about it.

   I started pulling out the Japanese Stiltgrass the first summer, sitting directly on the ground, clearing out that invasive annual a few square feet at a time.  I'd researched stiltgrass and I'd learned that it didn't bloom and set seed until late summer or fall, but at that point it seeded prolifically;  I was determined to avoid new seed falling in as large an area as possible.  As I sat on the ground working, I got to know our yard "up close and personal".  

For example, in the photo above, you can see the bloom of a Naked-Flowered Tick-trefoil and a sedge, both of which are native, interspersed with the invasive non-native Japanese Stiltgrass, which has the broader leaves.  These particular native plants aren't showy, but the native insects need and use them. 

    I found a few really nice surprises:  several Striped Wintergreen plants (two are shown above), Southern Adder's Tongue, a few native tree and shrub seedlings, 2 stunted Mayapple leaves,  2 or 3 single Bloodroot leaves, and some nice Partridgeberry vines.   Mostly, though, I found a lot of non-natives, some of which were problematic and a few of which were outright invasive.

    Most disturbingly, I found almost no life in the leaf litter.  We'd left the leaves on the ground in the fall, so we did have leaf litter itself, but despite hours of sitting on the ground, all I saw that summer were a few little black crickets.

NOW: 

    It's been 4 years since that first daunting summer.  The Japanese stiltgrass still shows up a little, but it's easily pulled as I meander in the yard.  I've moved on to actively extracting Asiatic Hawkweed, fescue clumps, and Ground Ivy.  Ajuga is on my radar screen.  We've left the leaves every year and a healthy leaf litter has started to develop, feeding and protecting the soil, as well as providing habitat for a myriad of little animals.

 We've established a series of paths in the front yard, outlining them with branches from the tree trimming that has occurred.  We've left a large log and several small sections of logs,  forming an impromptu "jungle gym" for our grandsons in the front yard.  These have become favorite seats for me, as well.  In the back yard, we have a brush pile that the birds and the skinks find irresistible.

    For the most part over these intervening growing seasons, I've welcomed whatever native plants wanted to show up in the yard, relocating a few of them, but generally just observing and enjoying.  Because we have many seedlings sprouting, I can tell which plants are the birds' favorites, species like Spicebush, Wax Myrtle, and Black Cherry.  We've also planted a lot of native plants:  ferns, Columbine, Beautyberry, Viburnums, Goldenrod, Mayapples, and Bloodroot, just to name a few.

    We fight the deer...and the voles...and even, for a brief time last spring, a groundhog.  The deer have kept our newly planted plants undersized, but with judicious and regular use of deer repellants, we're finally seeing some growth.  Last spring the voles set us back on our heels for a while, but they haven't been as bad this year.

    Most excitingly, our yard has come alive with animal life.  These days I hear bird song all day long from a variety of species, including Brown Thrashers like the one shown above.   Fireflies twinkle at night.  

Butterflies flit through the air.  During the summer, I see Zebra Swallowtails and Eastern Tiger Swallowtails almost every day, but to get both in the same photo last summer felt like a real coup!  

In the leaf litter, there are now millipedes (like the one in the photo above), as well as snails and centipedes and roly-polies and firefly larvae and a gazillion ants and ...and ....and crickets, too, of course.  Moths have FINALLY appeared, especially the drab little leaf litter moths that are so incredibly important as food for many other animals.  

Solitary native bees, like this Georgia Mason Bee (Osmia georgica), visit our flowers and nest in the yard, as do a variety of solitary wasps who feed their young with paralyzed spiders or crickets or caterpillars or beetle larvae, depending on the species, helping to keep those populations in balance.

    So far this spring, we've had the parent birds of 10 different species bring their young to our feeders, including Carolina Wrens, Hairy Woodpeckers, and Brown Thrashers.  The photo above is of a father Downy Woodpecker feeding his daughter last spring.

    Pileated woodpeckers forage regularly on the stumps and the decomposing wood logs lining our paths.  

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    We have an untold number of Broad-headed Skinks in the yard, including this pair who had set themselves up in a prime location at the base of a dead tree.  Last summer, I also saw a Little Brown Skink, a species that lives entirely in the leaf litter.

    Butterfly numbers and species have increased, including this Common Buckeye (Junonia coenia) from last August, but greedily I would love to see even more.  I'm hoping that my increasing numbers of native flowers and host plants will bring them in - and help raise up new generations of lepidopterans.

    Most excitingly, this spring we've now seen TWO Eastern Ratsnakes, a big one and a little one.  Presumably they are why the voles are less of a problem this year!

    I still feel like the yard's design is far from optimal, but I'm continuing to work on it, aiming for beauty and cohesion as well as for increasingly healthy native plant and animal populations.

    

Ours may not be the most classically beautiful yard in the neighborhood, but it's rapidly becoming a most vibrant one, our own fascinating wildlife preserve.