Rustling Caterpillars

My biggest event of the year at Amelia SanJon Gallery is always the same weekend as the Concours d' Elegance Car Show.  This year I have invited one of Jacksonville's finest artists, Leigh Murphy, American Watercolor Society Signature member, to show a mix of her subjects and media.  Below is an example, a watercolor, -nearly unbelievable in the detailed reflections and convincing "chrome" highlights, you just have to see for yourself!

She is equally at home painting classic cars and airplanes, as well as motorcycles, which she is often found repairing the motor on her own ride. Having studied marine biology and being an avid gardener her other favorite subjects are sea shells and plants.


Yes, Saturday, March 10, is a special night, Artrageous Art Walk and our artist reception all rolled into one.  We hope to see you all there, starting at 5:30 and lasting until around 8:30.
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Spring continues to burst forth in full swing.  The squirrels were having quite a romp in my Jasmine vines, playing like little children in a fast moving game of tag.



The butterflies have also created quite a drama here.  I was thinking I was nearing the end of them, when I went by the History Museum to collect a few sprigs of Butterfly Weed.  To my shock I found one of the volunteers, deciding to tidy up the yard, had pruned all the butterfly weed cutting it back to the ground.  I was horrified.  I collected all the clippings which had been cut the day before to try to revive it enough to feed my remaining caterpillars.  I also found several caterpillars on the cut plants still alive along with several which had been crushed with the "bush whacking".  These I rescued and added to my already full house.


  With Caterpillars stacked two to a leaf I was getting desperate for "good weed", butterfly weed that is.  A few days later I picked up my friend Anne for some girl time telling her we were going on a mission of mercy, a caterpillar rescue.  As I drove away I looked down and one of the caterpillars from the museum's cuttings was crawling across my console.  This made it even more vital to find caterpillar food fast.  We headed to Ace Hardware the only possible source of plants left locally.  Karen the gardening specialist and former worker with a butterfly garden, knew what I was after when she saw the caterpillar crawling up my arm.  She had four plants left, she had tucked back which were pretty frost bitten from a cold front we had a few days earlier, but they would give me some relief.  Seeing the damage to her plants I became fearful for the remaining caterpillars at the History Museum.  We were in full caterpillar mode at this point with our own weed collection safely tucked in the back of the van.  Reaching the Museum my worst fears had been realized.  There were no edible leaves left, the caterpillars resorting to eating stems.  We began gathering them up and placing them on the plants in our Mobile "Cat" Rescue Clinic so they could start eating.  It was our first adventure rustling caterpillars.


It became a challenge trying to locate enough Weed to feed the now burgeoning caterpillar collection.  Over-crowding led to several causalities back in the terrarium.  Jockeying for position led to caterpillars being dislodged from feeding and worse still knocked down, caterpillars in the very delicate "J" pre-chrysalis stage, or new Chrysalis.  That is the story on this fellow which we laying on the bottom of the terrarium.  Although it seemed to be OK one side was slightly flat.  We managed with a pair of hemostats to attach it and hang it in the proper position to finish developing.  This was the day we would find out if it was going to be alright.   


Not long now as we wait for the wings to unfurl and straighten out.


Everything seemed to be OK except the front edge of one wing was curled around in an unnatural way.


We hoped it would straighten but it did not.  After enough time passed we took him outside.  At the end of the day he had not flown away so he was brought back inside.  We brought some blooming flowers inside so he could eat.  Next day we had several others so we put them all outside but it had turned cold and none of them flew away.  They were all brought back inside to the dining room holding area with blooming flower pots.  A friend had, in the mean time, brought me a spiral butterfly tent for raising butterflies.  I decided to put all four of them inside the tent to prevent them from hurting themselves by flying into a wall. The next morning with warmer temperatures I returned them to the outdoors.  As I was replacing the weed for the caterpillars now in the tent, I found one butterfly lying still on the bottom of the tent.  I thought it was dead.  When I got it out I realized that it was the one with the bent wing.  He has since been named Crinkle Wing.  I quickly mixed up some sugar water and got the syringe out and managed to get him to drink some.  In about 10 minutes he revived.  He had just run out of gas having not eaten anything for a couple of days.


Between hunting weed, feeding our now adoptee, Crinkle, I barely made getting my entries into the Tennessee Watercolor Society for their 2012 show.  These are the two I entered.  This one I had painted after working on the sea turtle for the Turtle Trot painting and wanted to do something a bit looser.


The second entry was the one which had recently won the Silver Medal at the Jacksonville Watercolor Society.  So we will see how it all comes down.  They only have a show every other year and last show I did not get my entry accepted.  Being a past President of the society I just hate to not be represented in the show.


Last week my knee had acted up after I let my prescription lapse on my anti-inflammatory.  Wow, that stuff must really work.  In about 4 days it was back in bad shape and since I was 3 months past time that I could get another cortisone shot I decided to go see Dr. Shirley again.  I apologized for forgetting to shave my leg for him and he apologized for not shaving his face for me.  He is a fun guy.  He is attempting to grow a beard.  On the way back I stopped by one of the parks on the way home on Little Talbot Island.  I have put off trying to access a big sand flat which is always full of birds because the tidal creek between it is too wide to cross with high tide.


Today the tide was low and the large number of birds didn't seem too far away.  I wasn't by myself.  This group of gals were heading out to do some fishing as they had a seine net and a bucket.  Maybe collecting minnows from the tidal creek.  However they were not first timers like I was and knew the long route was the best one.


From the bridge these birds had looked quite close, but as I walked across the sand I found the flat perspective was very distorted with the distance about three times further than I figured and much more difficult with soft sand which sank down like a new snow.  It didn't take long to realize I could not make it to the birds and settle for this distant shot.  Then I headed back to make my way across the sand hoping I had done my knee no further harm.


Underneath the bridge you can see the navy ships across the river at Mayport.



Crinkle Wing has continued to live his life developing his own personality as much as a butterfly can do.  He has to be fed thusly twice a day.  To feed a butterfly they have to be willing to eat.  They must uncurl their proboscis which is like having your very on soda straw with which to sip the sweet sugar water nectar prepared for him.  I have perfected feeding him with one hand while I do other things with the other like put my make up on, eat my toast, sip a glass of wine and any number of other things one can do one handed.

The curl of his wing has left him "aerodynamically challenged".  



In this close up you can clearly see his proboscis down in the sugar water.   He uses it with the flexibility you would have using your pointer finger to feel around and find the best spot.  In the beginning he just takes a very long drink, then once he has satisfied his hunger he starts playing with his food.  He will start poking around very fast in the liquid.  But he does continue to eat because I can see the liquid go down, as I carefully try not to give the both of us a sugar bath as I keep the tip full.


With so many responsibilities at home, I have missed many gorgeous sunsets.  When I saw this glowing easterly cloud before me as it caught the glow from the western setting sun, I had to at least run by the beach and get an uninterrupted view minus the power lines.  The light seemed to radiate from inside the big billowing cloud.


By going this route home I was able to check on the progress of a new house that is going up on this beach front property, which belongs to one of my favorite authors.  I love a good complicated detective story.  This is the guest house or maybe a writing studio.  A swimming pool will be positioned to the right of this in the open space.


The main house is to the right of that area.  A nice place built on two ocean front lots.  Lets hope they will want local art to decorate their house.


A new piece of art work I just finished is this one.  I like to do something loose and fun after I finish the tighter commission pieces.


Crink has developed his own idyocyncricies.  He has decided he wants to fly a while before he will eat.  With his wing he can only fly in a downward spiral.  I hold him up and he launches himself and can somewhat control his flight, sometimes almost straight, as long as it is downward.  

Once on the kitchen floor he does his whirling dervish exercises to work up his appetite.  A couple of times and he is ready to settle down and spend about 30 minutes sipping his meal.  Crink is now about 20 days old which means he has reached a fairly old age, with a live expectancy of 2 to 6 weeks.
Another commission piece for me is starting.

 This is day 1. This painting is 3 ft by 5 ft and will be a view from the surface of the water where you see above and below the surface.  A sunrise will be coming up above, while below the surface sea creatures will be swimming around.  To get myself started I used paint I had left from another painting I was working to put some color on the surface.  There is nothing scarier than a white canvas staring you in the face.


After some searching through my photos I choose some of my sunrise photos as a starting point for this sunrise and with that part firmly in mind along with how I want to show the divide between sea and sky I begin the painting.  I am just not sure what all will be included in the under sea part but I know that I want it to look wet and watery.  To get starting on that feeling I take the colors left at the end of the day and brush them on the middle portion of the canvas and spray it with water from a spray bottle letting it run downward.  Just getting the canvas covered with color is a good leg up.  The rest will come.  I know a sea turtle will be one critter of course, but knowing that Atlantic fish are not quite as colorful as the Pacific Ocean ones it will be a bit more challenging to make it interesting.


A close up cropped version of the sunrise, which will change, I'm sure, but it is a good start in the direction I want to head.

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With butterfly season coming to a halt, not for the butterflies but for me, I will put my efforts (after I get past preparing my taxes and Art Walk) toward planting all the cuttings I have been rooting and seeds I have started with the goal of having the best gol-derned butterfly friendly garden around.  No more searching the highways and by-ways for weed.  
On a sad not the end of caterpillar herding has come abruptly for me on Sunday as I found all my approximately 10 caterpillars laying dead underneath the two beautiful plants I had just bought for them the day before.  Evidently the new plants had been sprayed with some sort of insecticide, a big no-no for plants that attract butterflies.  I still have 14 more Chrysalis waiting to emerge, and of course I still have Crink to feed until his life span is complete.  Then I will focus on providing a good outdoor habitat and not try to save them all inside.  I have found that many things can go wrong inside in a protected environment also.
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Rumor has it that a baby squirrel is on the way to be dropped off on the gallery doorstep sometime today.   Just when I thought I could see a break ahead...  I see another wild ride into the animal world shaping up.  I remember finding the paper with instructions for raising a young squirrel in my office just last night.  Was that prophetic or not???

Family Visit, Chapter 2

I was informed by my friend Chris up in North Georgia that Tuesday was National Squirrel Appreciation Day.  I thought it was an appropriate time to revisit the most special squirrel I ever knew, Shelly, who shared our lives for a year and a half and gave us insight we never dreamed into this world of squirreldom.  We learned so many things from her about squirrels, who have this other world gaze up close leaving you unable to ever tell where they are looking, but they seem to see all.  I learned what wondeful mothers squirrels are, that they raise two sets of offspring a year.  As single moms raise their offspring alone, building a home, giving their children every possible advantage by giving them a nurturing and loving family life.  Shelly disappeared shortly after this photo was taken and it was our last visit from her.


Here's to Shelly, where ever she may be, and to all the squirrels no matter how aggravating they might be as they gnaw into our attics, eat our birdseed, and generally make a nuisance of themselves, but all the while endearing themselves to our hearts as we watch their daily fight for survival in the wilds of our own backyards.  And although we said we would never again raise one, our door is now open if another one happens to be orphaned in the neighborhood and needs a caring home for a while.
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 Back to my own family visit and a long story, but I will try to be brief.  I decided that my family needed to go on the Amelia River Cruise, as you know one of my favorite things to do with visitors.  If you remember in the preceding story I told you this Ring-billed Gull was called the "fast food gull".  We got to experience first hand how well deserved that name is.  Even if he is a scoundrel, he is a pretty thing in the bright afternoon light.  

This gull was hanging out on the railing next to the ticket office.  I had brought my brother, Mike, and his wife, Denise, some chicken strips from the restaurant where the rest of us had just had lunch. As Denise casually leaned against the railing munching on the first bite of a piece of chicken, Slick the Gull swooped down and relieved her of the rest of that fried temptation.  It was a shock to her as she turned in disbelief and said "That Gull just took my chicken."  Sure enough he was sitting on the dock below gobbling up his ill gotten gains.  

They are doing a much-too-frequently-required dredging project in the marina which keeps filling up with silt.  I wonder why they don't just extend the dock out further in the water and just let the rest fill in.  Looks like it would be cheaper in the long run.  The sludge from the project made a pretty line drawing on the surface of the water, however.


On board, everyone is settled in for the cruise.  All nicely prettied up with neatly combed hair.  I didn't take any "after" shots because the hairdos did not hold up very well in the wind.


It was a beautiful day with clear skies and smooth waters, "the better to see reflections in, my dear".



A close up of the reflections of this waterfront building was very interesting indeed.


The port with its big red cranes was also especially interesting to photograph.


The old rusty looking sailing vessel we had passed on the last trip looked very peacefully moored today, with the calm seas and the reflections in the water.  Mooring fees can be quite expensive, so many choose the free route and anchor out in the river traveling back and forth in their dingy.  Looks like the owner is at home or else the dingy would be gone.


The Pippi Longstocking House has a new copper roof which does not look as nice to me as the old red tin one.  Maybe it just needs a little time to weather out and blend in better with the old.


Smiley's Girls is slowly being relieved of any valuable parts.  She had sunk to the bottom while sitting at the dock.  Salvage people have been working on it and I wonder what will happen to its final carcass.


Nearby a fisherman mixes his blues and whites into the pool of rich colors reflected from the rusting sides of the retainment wall.


Although I have taken this photo many times, it is always different and today's calm, smooth water provides a whole new impression through the camera lens.  Now that could be an interesting painting.


A Pelican skims the water across the bow of the boat.  He seems to be in slow motion as the air currents provide the lift to glide across the surface without having to flap his wings.


A couple of kayakers enjoy the bountiful supply of kayaking areas which we have, being surrounded by water in one form or another.


Cormorants take advantage of the rocks as a resting place out of the water.  Cormorants have beautiful pale blue eyes but I can never seem to be close enough to get a shot of that, unlike Slick the Gull who likes making himself up close and available.


As we enter the mouth of Beach Creek on Cumberland Island another Cormorant which seems to usually hang out there is swimming around in the water.  I get him in focus to try for the eye shot when suddenly he takes to the air.  Great because I would not have been able to get that shot otherwise.


Sometimes you just get lucky when you are viewing the world through that glass disc on the end of the camera.  It takes a lot of effort to get airborne from a sitting position on a fluid surface like water,


Mike and Denise reflect on their days when we once took them and their young child, Bryan (the first of 5 children, and now the father of their grandchild, Oliver), along with, believe it or not, Mom and Helen, and all went backpacking on Cumberland Island.  My mother has never forgiven me for that trip and swears to this day that we put all the heavy stuff in her pack, even though in truth, it was just the bread.  Actually Mike just about killed himself trying to take the lion's share of supplies.  We rigged up a cart out of an old two wheeled golf cart, added a plastic square drink case from a Quickie Mart onto which we strapped Bryan's carseat, creating the perfect equipment to pull him the 3 miles up the island to our campsite.  With my kids and two other sets of cousins in tow it was quite an adventure.  Mike and Denise hope to some day revisit the island when they are here.


We saw lots of the horses engaged in their unending activity of eating.


Near a University of Georgia study area sat this funny looking Great Blue Herron.  Not sure if he was just soaking up the warm sun rays or drying his wings.


One horse was especially pretty with a shiny chestnut coat, his white blaze face, and not looking quite so pot bellied as many of the horses can look.  There is one solid white stallion that I have not yet seen.


Another Great Blue tries to blend into the marsh, imitating a blade of seagrass.


Overhead one of the many jets who fly across our skies brings back the reality of the modern world as it seems to be soaring past the pale daytime moon.


A good view across the marsh through the break in the trees is also the Kings Bay Submarine Base with all kinds of modern technology in play as they watch over our shores.


But ahead lies the past in its lost glory.  Dungeness a long ago scene of granduer that most of us can only imagine now lays in ruins.  How fleeting life and its possessions are.


Our return trip was very nice but fast and very cool and I retrieved blankets for Mom and Helen as we passed near this shrimper.  The water temperatures in the 60's create a much cooler perceived temperature coupled with the speed of the return trip.  It was another very lovely adventure on board the Amelia Island River Cruise luxery liner (maybe a slight over statement) and a special thanks to our Captain Kirk for a job well done.  


One last view of the shrimpboats with all the rusty, but very artsy looking buildings in the background..


And just like the storied piggies, we are "jiggity jog", back home again.


It is always interesting to see the working shrimpers as we pass the boats and wonder what their lives are like.



The family is now gone back to Washington State and North East Tennessee but more good memories have been made.  Back in the van I keep a close eye on our van Monarch to see if his being jostled around for several days, taking several road trips in the process, had a determental effect on his being able to emerge sucessfully.  When I begin to see color on the bruised Chrysalis I know that it won't be long until we know the outcome.  I parked next to the gallery so I could check on him as the day progressed.  But it seems that it would still be another day before we know.


Sunday morning as Bruce left to go to the gallery he gave me a shout back and said if you want to see your butterfly emerge you better get out here.  I grabbed clothes, the camera and headed outdoors to witness the event, having a really vested interest in this special one, who by now has seemed part of the clan.  The colors tell me the chances are good for a healthy Monarch.  The watched pot never boils.  I clean out the car while I wait, then I sort all my fishing gear, sorting hooks, straightening out lines, but still nothing.  I decide to run in and grab cup of coffee.


And, well of course, this is what I found when I returned.  I yell for the neightbors to come see.  We stand and watch as the wings gently unfurl.


Slowly the crinkles begin to expand as if they were laundry being pressed by on the ironing board.


Gravity and the pumping of fluid from the body into them set them up for their future flights.


Yes our fellow is perfect.  A tough little guy who may not realize it but has passed by the sights of Northeast Florida already.


Inside our little Gulf Fritillary was not so lucky.  There is a name for them when they are born this way, deformed and destined never to fly.  Unable to flush him down the comode which may have been the merciful thing to do, we instead brought in flowers for him to hang on and proceeded to feed him sugar water from a plastic syringe and gave him an extra week and a half of life.  Last evening when I went to feed him, he had died.  They don't all make it and things do happen which we don't understand, especially with this fellow which seemed to develop normally even though it was slow. But he was comfortable, just never could fly with wings which were too crumpled.



But Vannie our "van" Monarch was beautiful and spread his wings as the light filtered through while I made calls to all the rest of the family with the announcement of "It's a boy!!!"
I can't tell you how many butterflies we have released this season.  With the warm weather the Monarchs have just kept laying and everytime I bring home plants I bring home more tiny caterpillars who grow into more adults eating me out of house and home but eventually turn into these beautiful creatures.

Next story will be about shooting birds and rustling caterpillars, so another adventure into the realm of winged critters is revealed.

Next years resolve is that I will never again be lacking in butterfly weed as I have been this year.  I am collecting seeds and rooting plants as fast as I can get them going.  My yard will be a veritible butterfly refuge.