El Segundo Blue

Last Wednesday's LA Times (June 25th) had a front page article on a study that was done to determine the effects of global warming on our state's native plants. (You need a subscription to read the full article, but you can read the study from which it is derived here.) The news was not good.

Two-thirds of California's unique plants, some 2,300 species that grow nowhere else in the world, could be wiped out across much of their current geographic ranges by the end of the century because of rising temperatures and changing rainfall patterns, according to a new study.

What bothered me more than the article, were the comments that came in to the Times and were listed at the bottom of the online version. There were several people that said in effect, "so what?" and it's "survival of the fittest," and all that. They don't seem to realize that with native plants, you get native wildlife, too, native birds, bugs, mammals, etc. If the plants or in some cases the one plant that a particular species of animal likes to feed on disappears, we lose another species.

Let's take for example the El Segundo Blue Butterfly, Euphilotes battoides allyni. It lives out its entire life-cycle on the California native plant, Coast Buckwheat, Eriogonum parviflorum. This butterfly is on the endangered species list but is making a comeback due to conservation efforts. Traditionally, it was found in the dunes at El Segundo, and along Santa Monica Bay south to Malaga Cove on Palos Verdes Peninsula. Conservation efforts have centered on removing the non-native vegetation growing on the cliffs and dunes (mostly what we call ice plant) and replacing it with native plants, and in particular, the Coast Buckwheat. Here is a YouTube link with Travis Longcore, PhD., from USC explaining the project. You might also like to read his 5-year Review: Summary and Evaluation which was just released in March of this year.

I was alerted to the fact that the butterfly had been seen at Pt. Vicente by the friend that I met there last February. I was very eager to go down to have a look for myself and take photos of course, when my camera died as I reported yesterday. Luckily, in searching the web for a solution to the camera problem, I discovered that I could still use it in manual focus mode. It was the auto-focus feature that was broken. So after flipping the sub-mirror up manually and checking that the camera would work, I packed my gear and headed out early this morning.

It was a lovely morning, but the fog horn was blowing at the lighthouse. You can see the fog out there hugging Santa Catalina Island, ready and waiting to envelop us once again. I had no trouble finding the buckwheat because the native plant garden that has been established around the Point Vicente Interpretive Center (PVIC), had several plants in full bloom. But I was amazed when I finally found the butterfly because it is so tiny! It is no bigger than the bees that were also buzzing around the flowers. My photos above might be deceiving so to give you some idea of the size of the butterfly, here is a photo of the full plant. The balls of flowers on the ends of the stalks can't be much more than an inch in diameter.

The males are supposed to be bluer than the females, but I am not sure I could tell them apart. When they flew they looked more blue than when they landed. The photo below shows a possible male coming to chase after the female who is feeding. A bee is getting his fill nearby. The adults live only a few days. They mate and lay eggs right on the flowers and the eggs hatch in 3 to 5 days. During the "caterpillar" stage, the larvae hide in the flower heads and feed on the buckwheat seeds. Then they molt into their pupal stage. The "cocoons" fall to the ground and remain buried in loose sand or debris beneath the plant for one or more years when the whole cycle begins again.

So does it matter if these tiny butterflies survive? If their host plant disappears? Most of the people walking by the garden probably had no clue that they were even there they are so small. But after sitting and watching them for almost two hours, seeing them flit about in true butterfly style, landing to feed and maybe soak up some sun, then chasing each other off, I think it does.

Catching Up

Does this look like sunny Southern California? Last night the SBAS Dark Sky viewing session was fogged out at Ridgecrest. A couple of us had been waiting for weeks for a chance to use our scopes and set up even though things didn't look too promising at 8:00 p.m. The skies never cleared and I gave up at around 10:30. I think one lone star came out briefly in all that time. This is a frustrating hobby at times.

At least I got to practice setting up although I'll never know if I had perfect alignment or not. And I remembered to bring my dew shield and my watch with the seconds displayed which I usually forget. You need the exact time (and longitude and latitude) to set the go-to mechanism. I also brought a folding chair for relaxing now and then between viewings. But by the time I have all the equipment I need packed in the trunk of my car, there isn't room for much else. And take a look at those monster scopes that some of the guys have! After spending thousands (in either money or hours or both) on the scopes, you need to spend more money for a truck or van to haul it around!

The guys stood around "chewing the fat" about equipment which they tend to do even if the skies are clear. We are all bundled up because even though the temp only went down to 60 degrees, there was a cool breeze and when you are standing around not moving very much, you get cold fast. A few visitors came up to see the sights, but since there were no stars to see, they got a lesson on telescopes instead.

Earlier in the day, I had my student recital for the end of the year. Everyone played well and the parents were happy. It was a lovely afternoon.

On Friday, I went to visit Toddler C. again. I was happily taking pictures of him (love that blond, curly hair!) when my camera died! This afternoon, I have been searching the web to see if anyone else has had this problem of a half-black picture with their Canon Rebel cameras. Turns out my shutter has died. Apparently, this happens a lot and some people say that the shutter is only good for 10,000 pictures. Since I have owned the camera for four years and have taken 14,220 pictures I guess I should consider myself lucky. One site had detailed instructions for taking the camera apart and fixing it yourself, but do I want to do that? Other sites estimate the cost for repairing the camera at $200.

Well, I thought, maybe it's time for an upgrade, but the repair record for all of the Canon Rebels is not too good it seems. Some people are really angry about Canon's lack of good customer service and especially for their not acknowledging a known problem like this. So maybe I should really upgrade and go to the Canon 5D model. Its shutter is rated for 100,000 shots and I still want to be able to use all my Canon lenses.

Whatever, I do, I feel totally lost without my camera! I have a little Olympus that I can use in the meantime but it doesn't have the capability for close-ups that I need for bird photos.

Speaking of the birds, a Red-winged Blackbird came to my feeder this week! That is a very unusual thing for a blackbird to do. I didn't get a picture of him, not because the camera was broken, but because he was too fast for me. And he showed up two days in a row, too.

Neighbors

I have been meaning to write about Laurie for months now, but kept putting it off. Maybe I have a guilty conscience. Grace's post about neighborhoods has prompted me to finally do it.

Laurie was my neighbor who passed away last March while I was on vacation. We were neighbors for 36 years, since the 1970s when we both moved into this new-at-the-time development. She was ten years my senior, but our sons were about the same age, and like me she was from New England. Laurie loved children and was a very handy baby-sitter when my kids were little because she herself never went anywhere. She also tended my house for me when we were away on one of our many trips. Laurie was the one who made it her business to know everyone on the block, but while she talked on the phone constantly, she avoided going out. She said she had agoraphobia.

She became a widow, oh, about 12 or 13 years ago, after her son was married. Life became extremely difficult for her after that, not financially, but just in terms of being able to cope with living alone and living without the person who took care of her and her phobias and had been her best friend for years. At the time, the other neighbors rallied around her and brought her meals (he had been the cook) and checked on her often to make sure she was OK.

About six years ago, I got a call from one of these neighbors asking me if I had heard from Laurie lately. No, I said, I had not. Since Laurie was not answering her phone, my husband and another neighbor went over to Laurie's house and rang the bell. There was no reply except for her barking dog. A third neighbor came over to find out what was going on and it was decided to try to gain entry into Laurie's house. This would be a bit tricky, since she had a house alarm that she frequently set off by accident.

One of the younger, very slim, neighbor-daughters actually squeezed herself through Laurie's doggie door and then unlocked the back door for the rest of us. We found Laurie upstairs, sitting on her bedroom floor, in a daze. She wasn't moving very much and was very disoriented. I was afraid she'd had a stroke. I sent my husband off to dial 911. The paramedics came promptly and transported her to the local hospital where it was found that she was OK. No stroke. Just dehydrated. She had not been taking care of herself and hadn't been eating properly. We'll never know, but it's possible she had been sitting on the floor like that for a day or more.

After her recovery, which was slow, she took to her bed. She was only 67. She had no serious ailments, she just didn't have the will to live. Her son hired a live-in helper to cook her meals and take care of her. She still used the phone constantly, but her conversations, which would last for hours, started to be very one-sided, rambling, and depressing. I feel guilty because after my own husband died, I couldn't tolerate these calls anymore and I stopped calling her. I found I was in the same predicament as she was and to me Laurie was a symbol of what could happen to me if I was not careful. Her first words to me (on the phone, of course) after hearing of my husband's death were, "You never get over it!" It was like the voice of doom.

The photo up top is of Laurie's bougainvillea which came into bloom in May. I marvelled at that because I never see anyone water this plant. Most likely one of the neighbors is doing it. I never saw Laurie outside working in the garden. She never walked any of her many dogs herself. She said she was allergic to the sun. She certainly "never got over it." She shut herself up in her house and faded away.

Surprise!

This gorgeous orchid cactus blossom, Epiphyllum of some sort, greeted me this morning when I went out on the patio. I had been watching two other plants with buds on them, but had not noticed this plant was ready to bloom. The blooms only last one or two days, so you have to take photos immediately. This bloom is 5-inches in diameter to give you an idea of its size. I got this plant, and three others, as cuttings from my friend Kathy. She gave me several "leaves" from her plants and was sure she was giving me two pinks and two whites. She scored a "W" on the two leaves that she thought were white, but the plants healed themselves and the scoring disappeared. I had to wait several years before the plants started blooming to find out what colors I did have and it seems they are all white. When I mentioned this to Kathy, she said I should ask for my money back.

Growing in the pot with the cactus is Maidenhair Fern or Adiantum jordanii. It is a native California plant that will die back completely, then revive when given water. It seems to love the cactus soil that I have used in these pots. Originally, it started with a little 4-inch pot of the fern that I bought and left on the shelf out on the patio. The wind sent its spores to the cactus pots and now they all have some fern growing in them. They seem to like each other, so I have left them, and the fern lets me know when the pots need water.

I might also mention that these plants, while in pots, are outdoors year round and under the patio cover which is a slatted affair. So the plants get dappled sun as they would if they were growing in the wild in trees. I think this plant may have gotten too much sun, as some of the stems have turned reddish. It's possible I need to add an acidifier to the soil, too. I have neglected my poor potted plants this year and have not given them any fertilizer as I usually do about twice a year. It's been on my to-do list for over a month now. Maybe, today will be the day. The heat wave appears to be over and temps are returning to normal.

Goldfinches

I have put up a second bird feeder. I was dropping off some glass bottles to be recycled at my local Wild Birds Unlimited store (they donate the proceeds to the South Bay Wildlife Rehab center—more on them later) and I overheard a woman asking about the best way to attract goldfinches. I learned that goldfinches like a special kind of seed called Nyger that needs a special kind of feeder because the seeds are so tiny. I was also told that it was too late in the year to attract any goldfinches to my yard. Most had already migrated and the ones that stick around for the summer had chosen their feeders already. So when I mused that perhaps I should wait until the fall to buy a second feeder, the salesperson, not wanting to pass up a chance to make a sale, convinced me that the House Finches would like the Nyger seeds, too.

Well, I got Goldfinches! The one pictured above is so mottled that I am not sure what kind he is, but most likely he is a Lesser Goldfinch. He doesn't have much white on his wings which is puzzling me. This pair of goldfinches (below) that showed up a few days later are definitely Lesser Goldfinches. The male has the black cap. They announced their presence with a high, wiry call that sounds like, "tleee" or "tseeeew." Later in the fall when the migrating goldfinches come through it will be almost impossible to identify them because the females, immatures, and non-breeding males all look the same, a drab greenish yellow, and are also similar to the fall, non-breeding American Goldfinch.

The American Goldfinch is much more common throughout the United States and can easily be identified by his bright yellow color, front and back. He will sing as he flies and his song sounds like, "potato chip, potato chip."

I first learned about the Wildlife Rehab center in my area years ago, quite by accident. I was at a print shop getting some copies made of an article in a magazine about birding in Hawaii. My husband and I were planning a grand trip to the big island. The lady next to me seeing that I had an interest in birds asked me if I would like to see something she had with her. Yeah, I said hesitatingly. She opened the large knitting bag that she was carrying and showed me a very small cage with two extremely small hummingbirds inside! They were abandoned babies that needed to be fed by eye-dropper every 20 minutes. So she couldn't leave them to go run even a short errand and had devised this way of toting them around with her. While chatting with me, she took out the eye-dropper, filled it with nectar, and shoved it into their eagerly-waiting long bills. Talk about dedication!

The name of the hummingbird lady is Jean Roper. The rehab website says she takes in hundreds of hummingbirds annually. I met Ann Lynch, the founder of the center, many years ago on a birding excursion to Lake Machado in San Pedro. She had a large cardboard box with her and was about to release an American Bittern into the wild after nursing it back to health. She opened the lid of the box and out flew this startled bird with a very large wing-span. He flew across the lake and made several circles in the air before settling down in the reeds on the opposite side. What a sight!

Summer Soltice

Is it hot enough for you? My son in Arizona sent me the photo on the right saying, "Yeah, but it's a dry heat." The outside temp is at the top with a little arrow showing that the heat was still rising (that's 121.5 degrees Fahrenheit, in case you can't read it). The second number is the inside temp. He has air conditioning. So I sent him back the photo below. The outside temp is on the left and the inside temp is on the right. But my gauge is in the sun in the afternoon, so this is not the temp that the weather forecasters will report. But it felt that hot! No air conditioning here.

Dry heat does make a difference. I can remember temps in the 90s being insufferable back in New England because of the accompanying high humidity. I learned as a child to pull down the shades and close the drapes early in the morning while the house was still cool to keep the heat out. I still do that. But last night the temps did not go down very much, so we are starting off the day hot.

Happy Summer Solstice! And stay out of the sun.

Meanwhile, my daughter alerted us to the fact that the Moon, which was full on the 18th, in conjunction with the solstice, will appear very large as it is rising as it usually does in October when it is called a harvest moon.

The full Moon of June 18th is a "solstice moon", coming only two days before the beginning of northern summer. This is significant because the sun and full Moon are like kids on a see-saw; when one is high, the other is low. This week's high solstice sun gives us a low, horizon-hugging Moon and a strong Moon Illusion.

I have always wondered about the explanation for this illusion. They used to say that it was because the Moon was being viewed through several layers of atmosphere which would magnify it. Now they say it's just an illusion because we are looking at the Moon with familiar things like houses nearby.

I wanted to do a little experiment and compare photos of the Moon taken this week with photos that I took of the Moon during the eclipse last February when the Moon was much higher in the sky. Now this is a totally unscientific experiment, mind you. First of all, I missed the moonrise on the 18th. The above photo was taken on the 19th and I couldn't see the Moon until it was up much higher than it needs to be to see the effect because of fog drifting in from the east. (Fog rarely comes from the east. That's just another indication that our weather pattern is unusual.) I did use the same camera with the same lens though, and the same settings. There were similar foggy conditions, too.

The Moon does appear to be the same size in both photos except for the glow from the sunlight which makes it appear to bulge out in the lower photo. There are some trees and an airplane going by in the first photo, but I don't think you can see them. The plane does make the Moon look big.

In the fall when I am driving to rehearsal, I get a good look at the harvest moon and it does look huge. There is one point where I am up high enough to see the horizon clearly. The only problem is it is up on a bridge, where I can't stop to take a picture!

June Bloom Day

Yes, I am a little late again but most of these photos were taken last Sunday. I am just now getting around to posting them. I didn't think I would have many blooms to show this month other than ones that I have already posted. The lavatera, bougainvillea, Lion's Tail and others are all still in full bloom. Then I remembered the forgotten plants, the ones I don't think about very much either because I didn't plant them, they just grew, or because they have been in the garden so long that I take them for granted.

Heading the list of those plants that I take for granted are my rose bushes. I started out with six hybrid teas 37 years ago and one of those plants is still there. I think it is called Pink Dreams or something like that. You probably can't get it anymore, but it has the most wonderful smell. The photo at the top is of one of the newer bushes from New Zealand, MACgenev. It also has a wonderful smell and is very disease resistant. When the other bushes get mildew (usually during the June Gloom time), this one doesn't.

Another plant that I not only take for granted, but have actually been thinking of getting rid of is this hydrangea. It is supposed to be purple in color, but this year I didn't get out there in time with an acid soil amendment so the alkaline soil and water of Southern California turned it pink. I will only have a few blooms this year because my gardener, who is unfamiliar with this plant, trimmed it way back last winter before I could stop him. The blooms come on last year's growth, so if you cut all the stems back, you get lots of new leaves, but no blooms.

I once mentioned this plant to a friend and he said, "Hydrangea? As in hydra? As in water?" Yes, this is not a drought tolerant plant. My only excuse was that this plant started out as a container plant on the patio, and when the container disintegrated (it was redwood), I moved the plant once and then again to its current location. It's just not satisfactory where it is. It's close to the house and gets plenty of shade and water runoff from the roof in the winter, but then just as the blooms are coming out in June, the sun hits it and the leaves dry out. It's gotta go.

This second hydrangea is still a lovely blue because it is still in the pot, a gift from a student. Hydrangeas, especially the blue ones, remind me of Nantucket, one of my favorite places.

Over in the herb garden, this plant started coming up and I almost pulled it. I thought the leaf pattern was interesting so I left it and now I remember that it's a chrysanthemum that I just stuck in the ground last fall when I felt the garden needed some fall color. This bud has opened a little early. Hopefully, the plants will survive the summer heat.

Plants that planted themselves include this no-name plant. It blew over from my neighbor's garden. It's very common around here, so I should know the name, but since I didn't plant it, I don't. But I do like the cool blue-purple flowers that come out in June. They make a nice contrast to all the orange flowers I have in the front.

Another plant that just appeared is this bed of gazanias down by the street. It's in an impossible place wedged in between the curb and the cable box and gets water from me only once a week. It got started because I let the fallen leaves from the ficus tree collect there and they made a nice natural mulch. The bright sunshine-yellow flowers are a cheery greeting to visitors.