Beautiful but Hungry

Photo credit:  Lyn Fenwick

It's been so cold, and we desperately need rain.  A blue sky tricks me into wearing a jacket when the temperature requires a heavy coat, and I resent the winter chill even more.  I am eager for January to end in hopes February will bring rain and milder temperatures.  Since Mother Nature offers no such guarantees, I am going to ignore winter and share a blog about last summer.

As I have read Isaac Werner's journal entries about the challenges of farming in the late 1800s, I have reflected on current methods used by farmers to confront insects as compared to  Isaac's efforts to hand pick potato beetles off his plants.  

Last summer I could not help but think of Isaac as I watched the larvae of Black Swallowtail consume my dill.  One previous summer I had not known what the caterpillars devouring my dill were, and I hand picked them and dumped them into the burn barrel.  When I discovered later what they were I regretted my slaughter.  While identifying them online, I read one person's comment that she loved the butterflies so much that she always planted far more dill than she needed so the larvae could feast without eliminating her crop.

Not much left!

Last summer I found a small zip-lock bag in which I had saved a few dill seeds.  It was late in the season for planting this cooler season herb, but I put them in the ground in a less sunny part of my herb garden, doubtful whether they would sprout.  They did!  I love using fresh dill, so I was delighted.

A few days later I found the few stalks covered with caterpillars.  Almost all of the foliage was eaten, so I left them alone to finish it, consoling myself by looking forward to enjoying the butterflies.  I assumed--wrongly--that all of the damage had been done.

Several days later I went to the garden for fresh parsley.  I probably do not need to tell you that they also seem to accept parsley if fresh dill isn't on the menu.  Fortunately, I had lots of parsley, and I found leaves without damage or eggs, leaving me enough dill for our use.

Did I get to enjoy clouds of beautiful Black Swallowtail Butterflies later as a result of my generosity?  Not really.  I saw only one Swallowtail all season.  She was lying on the concrete drive, making no effort to fly when I approached.  Although she was beautiful, she may have been dying--having fulfilled her role of laying her eggs.  And, she was probably one of those hatchlings that had feasted in my herb garden, maybe one of those that had deprived me of any fresh dill.

Photo credit:  Lyn Fenwick

Today, as I shiver in the winter cold and hope for rain to save the crops, I will think about that beautiful Swallow Tail butterfly and remind myself to plant lots of dill and parsley seeds so I can share. 

P.S.  I read this week about the terrible loss of Monarch Butterflies because their larvae need milk weed, which has nearly disappeared.  I believe milk weed seeds must be planted in the fall, but perhaps I can find a place that will not disturb farmers' crops to also plant milk weed for the Monarchs next fall.  It would be a dull world without those winged jewels decorating the air.

Isaac Kills a Skunk

Disney's Flower meets Bambi

When we returned to the farm we learned from neighbors that in our region skunks are often carriers of rabies.  Since skunks are nocturnal creatures, seeing a skunk in daylight is taken as an indication that the skunk may be sick, and if it is sick, it could be rabid.  The safer method of addressing that question is to eliminate the risk.  Safer for humans and domestic animals, that is.  Not safer for the skunk. A skunk that goes for a daylight stroll in our yard is about to be a dead skunk.

That may be an easy choice for many people, but while I agree with the logic, I struggle with my conscience.  A big part of my pleasure from living on a farm is sharing the place with the birds and animals.  Moles and gophers test my patience, my heart breaks when I see a coyote chasing a fawn across the field, and I am angered by the greediness of the babies of the beautiful black swallowtail butterfly when they strip my dill plants, but I generally regard their right to live alongside us with tolerance, and we rarely interfere with Nature's way of keeping a balance in nature between predators and prey.

I remind anyone who will listen that wasps are beneficial insects and that snakes keep the mice and rat population under control.  The mud nests of barn swallows are messy, but they eat huge quantities of mosquitoes. The persistence of mice for setting up housekeeping in houses and barns tests my patience, but in general I enjoy the company of animals.  

But, back to skunks, perhaps I saw Disney's Bambi too many times as a child, or perhaps it was Pepe' La Pew's constant romantic rejections that won my sympathy, but I happen to think skunks are quite beautiful. Their luxurious coats and the dramatic contrast of black and white are stunning.

Isaac B. Werner mentions encounters with skunks twice in his journal.  In one encounter a skunk got into his chicken house and he killed it with a hammer.

In another encounter, he returned home late one evening after helping a neighbor and found a family of skunks in his house!  His journal does not describe how he disposed of them!  Isaac never mentions owning a gun, and the detailed inventory of his property following his death included such minor items as his toothbrushes and his collars, but it did not include a gun, so I do not believe he owned one.  I can only image how he got rid of a family of skunks in his house!!! 

Beautiful or not, a skunk strolling through our yard in daylight is about to be a dead skunk.