Camo

One from the archives; this deer was hidden in a field of leftovers from summer's wildflowers and lifted her head as I passed.

Sometimes I'm as surprised as the wildlife that I pass. Deer blend in so well with their environment that it often takes a trained eye to spot them even when they're close. Those spots on a fawn---a perfect match for dappled sunlight. And look how wonderfully the doe's white spots and brown blend with the wildflower remnants.  

Older than Old

This is my favorite plant waking up this spring. You can almost catch a fern first poking from the dirt, then lazily stretching out it's fronds one by one. Doesn't this one look like it's still a bit dozy---needs a cup of coffee, don't bother it yet?

Ferns are the most basic of plants---were some of the first on the planet. That makes them different and special. They don't depend on anything else to pollinate or breed---a bit of wind and everything's all taken care of; the billions of spores are carried off.

But just because the flowers are missing doesn't mean that the plants are not beautiful. There is nothing more entrancing and tropical than a landscape of ferns---especially in this section of Indiana.

Ferns---ancient plants unfolding in Indiana today.

Tending

When I found this ant in the forest understory I couldn't see what it was so fascinated in; it stayed in this position for quite some time.

If you look closely there are two tiny aphids that the ant seems to be tending like a good nanny.

Turtle Tales

Every year I see a painted turtle in the same spot in the middle of a trail near the Indiana Dunes. The turtle is usually digging a hole or laying eggs. A few days later there are usually a batch of empty egg shells strewn about the area.

I've always wondered if she's the same little turtle mama year after year. Happy Mother's Day!

Blueberries

Wild blueberries are so sweet and might be arriving earlier this year. So beautiful in green and rose---don't you think?

Sure Signs of Spring

THE soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings,

With green hath clad the hill and eke the vale:

The nightingale with feathers new she sings;

The turtle to her make hath told her tale.

Summer is come, for every spray now springs:

The hart hath hung his old head on the pale;

The buck in brake his winter coat he flings;

The fishes flete with new repairèd scale.

The adder all her slough away she slings;

The swift swallow pursueth the flies smale;

The busy bee her honey now she mings;

Winter is worn that was the flowers' bale.

And thus I see among these pleasant things

Each care decays, and yet my sorrow springs.

Henry Howard /Description of Spring  

Mourning Cloak

Looking like a piece of dappled sunlight fallen from the sky, this Mourning Cloak was flitting among the trees at the Indiana Dunes.

The year's abundant wildflowers have seemingly produced an abundance of butterflies that are not to be missed.