Getting off the ball

From a video seen on Xitter.  Rory McIlroy helps remove an insect from his golf ball during last week's PGA Tour playoff.  That's two in two weeks.  

On the ball

In 2022, the sports photo of the year award went to this image of Naomi Osaka as she moved a butterfly to safety.  

This past Sunday, another butterfly achieved 15 seconds of fame during the St Jude golf tournament in Memphis.  Sam Burns's birdie putt rolled by the hole and, just as the ball stopped, a rider hopped on.  CBS didn't replay it, so I recorded it off the screen the old-fashioned way.  

A purpose and a place

Our front yard has been weed-and-feed-ed, and I recently paid to have several square feet of mulch added to the south side of the house.  The prior layer of mulch had broken down and was apparently an ideal potting mix for a number of weeds, which made it look shabby as seen from the front sidewalk.  Curb appeal, I get that.  Can't be lowering the property values in this neighborhood.  

The back yard, which isn't so visible, has had a crop of dandelions, and the formerly landscaped "island" near the back edge of the property is now largely covered with wood violets, since they are a natural low ground cover that needs no maintenance or mowing.  

Not to say it's all wild and unkempt; I keep the plentiful catnip from growing tall, and ruthlessly uproot the spiny thistles when they pop up.  From a distance it just looks green and intentional.

There are exceptions, though. Landscaping in the front yard was airtight (or "weedtight"?) for the first couple of years, but in the past two that has given way to patches of speedwell (left, above) and yellow wood sorrel.  I couldn't get a picture today of the latter with pollinators, but there were hoverflies helping themselves to the former.  They're colorful, they're pretty, and they're attractive to pollinators, so they're staying put.

Something to show for it

Kit Charlemagne, March 9, 2:00 p.m.

First creeping speedwell of the year, March 8, 12:30 p.m. 

Poisonous, and in our back yard

Lobelia inflata is an "acrid poisonous annual is found in a variety of sites, often in poor soil. The American Indians were said to have smoked and chewed its leaves; hence the common name. Though once used as an emetic, the root should not be eaten, for if taken in quantity it can be fatal."

A lone slender stalk of Indian tobacco, growing on the east side of the shed in our back yard.  What bird was responsible for bringing that seed onto that ground?

Life in our back yard

 

On the road

I usually take a walk around the neighborhood in late afternoon, when traffic in the area has thinned out, but today's mid-afternoon forecast was calling for rain in the near future.  A quick look at the radar showed the leading edge of the rain far enough to the west that I thought I'd be OK, so I put on my walking shoes and went outside.

  

I took one of my usual routes around the neighborhood, which led me into a nearby park.  The road into the park also contained a small lane facing traffic for pedestrians, and that's where I was when a car approached me.  

Instead of passing, it slowed to a stop next to me and the passenger-side window went down.  A young woman leaned across the seat, and with a smile, she stretched a hand toward me.  In it was a small clover.  "Four leaves?  How about that?" I said, and she nodded.  I took the clover and thanked her, we wished each other luck, and she drove on.  

I've had some unexpected experiences on these almost-daily walks: finding several coins, seeing a deer, a fox, even a coyote; and one evening, in someone's front yard I counted seven cottontail rabbits.  But until this afternoon, never a human stopping to hand me a four-leaf clover.  

My guess is that she was having a good day and wanted to share it with someone else.  At least I hope so.  

For what it's worth, less than a minute after she gave me the clover, it began to rain lightly, and it continued the remaining half-mile back to the house.

Another kind of bee (Life in our back yard)

Anthidium manicatum, or European wool carder bee, on a sedum leaf.  As usual with things I see these days, this insect is considered an invasive species that is out-competing native bees.  

Still growing

 Nasturtium has literally blossomed since being transplanted from the planter box to the soil of the small flower garden.  Three in full bloom, with one more at left about ready to join them.

Knowing one's limitations

A couple of years ago, I intentionally bought a top-of-the-line phone for its camera, and it has worked out well.  When I'm at Tabby's Place, if a cat is up off the floor, I can use a DSLR, but below that point, I almost always use my phone instead.  Taking pictures of cats often means getting a photo, then if there's time, trying to get a better photo.  Helping that along are the phone's autofocus and the ability to stretch down and hold the camera at floor level, while still having a good idea of the final result

However, if the subject is tiny enough, like this Six-spotted Orbweaver (Araniella displicata), the advantage of autofocus is muted.  This is the clearest image I got yesterday, with the spider and its visible spots far less than sharp.   

Late night visitor

On the wall of my bathroom, a drain fly, also commonly known as a moth fly.  Not a good sign.

Something's leaking somewhere in the plumbing and giving these something to live on. Oh boy.

 

Straight and tall

Well, straight anyway.  Conocybe Apala (Milky Cone Cap), taken tonight in our back yard. 

 

It used to be landscaped

Now it's loaded with volunteer greenery and insects that accompany it.  I like this way better.

Honeybee on oregano flower, 26 July 2025

Another first

This morning in our back yard.  Looks like a kind of ladybug, but the back isn't smooth like wings.

So let's look around and try to learn something.  

Larva (left), adult (center), and pupa (right)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harmonia_axyridis

"Harmonia axyridis is a large lady beetle or ladybug species that is most commonly known as the harlequin, Asian, or multicoloured Asian lady beetle."

Tiny and Tinier

 

Yellow wood sorrel flowers are no bigger than a dime, and the mite is larger than a grain of sand, but not that much larger.

 

Ehrfurcht vor dem Leben

Back in summer, I went for a drive, and a few minutes into it, I saw a spider outside the driver's-side window.  It had built a web between the door and the side mirror, and was hanging onto it in the slipstream.  A timely red light allowed the spider to hurry into the side mirror for safety for the rest of the trip.  

The next time I went outside to the garage, the spider was once again on my car.  This time, I moved the spider over to the window opposite its former home.  It has lived on the window shade since then, sometimes hiding in the gap that shows at the top of the above picture.  The December cold seemingly hasn't affected its ability to find food.  The white egg sacs on display above indicate that this spider has done was it was born to do.  Eat, prey, reproduce.

Putting time to good use

Oxalis corniculata, the creeping woodsorrel, says Google Lens.  Wikipedia adds, "The flowers close when direct sun is not hitting the plant, hence the name 'sleeping beauty'."

PG was inside the building for an appointment.  I remained outside, but while the sun was bright, a chilly wind was making me wish I had worn a hoodie over my flannel shirt.  

But just a few steps farther along, behind the building, the wind was blocked and I could sit comfortably on the sloping ground.  Then I saw a number of these tiny wildflowers, and wildflowers are among the things I can't not photograph.  

On Facebook I wrote, "Sirens are blaring on an emergency vehicle speeding by, while a few hundred feet away, honeybees hover near these tiny wildflowers."  

The shadow in the image below is of a post connected to the ground wire from the electric meter attached to the wall.

One of one

Late this year getting to the purple aster patch down the road, which is why this is the only one left with a bright yellow middle.  There were some small skippers in the patch flitting from flower to flower.  I snapped off a couple of stems with spent flowers that I believe contain seeds.  

 

Closed for the day

Another look at the ivy-leaved morning glory that was fully open yesterday.