Happy Winter Solstice

Winter Solstice sunrise and sunset

Yesterdy, December 21st, was the Winter Solstice. We celebrate the Winter Solstice with a ritual derived from both Celtic paganism and Celtic Christianity. With smudge stick and bell, we bless Bean Hill and all living things on and around the property. Winter Solstice is a time for renewal and hope; on the longest night of the year, we look forward to the increasing light and the magic of the next growing season. Our ritual concludes with lighting the Yule Log, and toasting to the new year with a glass of mead. May your New Year be filled with light and love.

Ritual requirements:
Smudge stick, bell and mead

November--The Month of Winding Down

Nuthatch

November is the month when it begins to look like winter. The leaves finally fall, and everything becomes bare and drab; it's all kind of beige and brown out there. In terms of yard work, there's little left to be done by the time November rolls around. The main yard chore is gathering and stacking firewood; the Jersey Woods provide us with lots of fuel for the fire. The firewood chore usually only takes a day of work, leaving lots of time to indulge in the first of many hot chocolates of the season, as well as mulled cider. (Tip: A jigger of Templeton Rye makes a great addition to warm mulled cider.)

Red Belly Woodpecker

November is the month the Cornell Lab of Ornithology's Project Feederwatch begins. We've participated in this citizen-scientist project for several years now, and the start of a new year of bird counting is exciting. About twice a month, we choose a 48-hour period to observe the birds at our feeders, and record the species and numbers, as well as weather conditions. We can devote as much or as little time to watching as we want. The data we collect is sent to the Cornell Lab, and is used to track species populations and migratory patterns. If you enjoy watching birds and have at least one feeder. you might want to check out the guidelines here https://feederwatch.org/ 

Tufted Titmouse eating a peanut

Carolina wren

Downy woodpecker waits
her turn at the feeder

November was an interesting weather month this year. Temperatures were either way above or way below normal, and once again, that balanced out to a fairly "normal" monthly average. Historically, November's average high is 52 degrees, and this year the average was 52.46 degrees. Twelve days had high temperatures that were 6-20 degrees above normal, and nine had temperatures that were 6-20 degrees below normal. We had several very cold nights, making our average monthly low 2.4 degrees below the historic monthly average, which is 35 degrees. Twelve nights had temperatures 6-13 degrees below normal, and seven nights had temperatures that were 6-19 degrees above normal. 

Wide temperature fluctuations in November made the daily graph look like a roller coaster. Between November 2 and November 27, there were thirteen 24-hour periods when the daily high rose or fell drastically from one day to the next: Six times the temperature rose 10-16 degrees above the previous day's high; seven times the temperature fell 12-22 degrees from the previous day's high.  One day it was shirt-sleeves and the next the parka, or vice versa. There was never a chance to acclimate!

Bee-ing Nice to the Earth Follow-up

Step 1: Collect the tubes capped with mud. Each
should be filled with several cocoons

Last April we decided to raise mason bees. (If you haven't read the earlier post, "Beeing Nice to the Earth", you should do that now to understand how mason bees differ from honey bees.) This month it was time to see how we did as bee nurturers.

 

Step 2: Split each tube with a razor blade

The capped tubes were removed from the bee "hotel" in September, and kept in a mesh bag until it was time to harvest the cocoons. The only tools needed are a razor blade, some good scissors, a large bowl of cool water, and a storage pan lined with paper towels. Harvesting isn't hard, but it is time-consuming, and we only had a small harvest. I spent two hours opening 25-30 tubes. Part of the problem was that half of those were cardboard tubes, and they were frustratingly hard to tear into. The other tubes were made of reeds, and they were a breeze to split open. A little more expensive, but I decided next spring it's all reeds!

I waited just a little too long to harvest the cocoons. If the cocoons don't get into a cool and humid place by early November, they began to use up their fat stores, which shouldn't happen until spring. I found several cocoons were dry and shriveled. They were pitched, along with ones that had little pinholes in them (See "Step 3") But it was really gratifying to see the healthy cocoons, all lined up neatly in a tube!

After they're removed from the tubes and inspected, the cocoons get a bath in cool water, and then are set out to dry. Once dry, they go into a little plastic bee humidor, and that goes into the fridge. A tablespoon of water every month, and the bees should be good to go come spring. Fingers crossed.

I feel the bee raising experiment was successful, although not wildly so. We purchased 75 bees and ended up with 76 healthy cocoons. I had to pitch about a dozen cocoons, and a few tubes were sealed but empty. Interestingly, toward the end of their life cycle, some mason bee females become disoriented and just start sealing tubes without having laid any eggs. Obviously, we had our share of confused bees.

Next spring I plan to enlarge the mason bee population; we'll order more to add to what hatches from this group. We won't, however, try leaf-cutter bees again. We didn't get a single tube from that type. We did have some spectacular flowers this year, and the biggest paste tomatoes we've ever grown, so maybe the leaf-cutters were good for something. Overall, this was a fun, educational and interesting thing to do, but best of all is the feeling we made our small contribution to the health of the Earth.

Step 3: Tease each cocoon out of it's chamber. Check for pinholes, meaningthat cocoon was attacked by an insect using it as a food source. Pitch. (Note the little mud caps sealing off each cocoon from the others in the tube.)

Step 5:  Put the cocoons in a bee humidor. When the flowering
trees begin to blossom, the cocoons go to the bee "hotel"
(top photo), where, hopefully, they'll emerge, and
get to work pollinating

Step 4: Wash the cocoons in cool water.
They're waterproof, and floating shows the
cocoonis viable.Set them out to dry.
Btw, the larger cocoons are the females.

A (Very) Slight Chill In the Air

"Bunny Hill" garden in mid-summer

In October, there are a few last minute things to do to complete the putting-the-yard-to-bed job begun in September. I finished drying and storing herbs, some grass seed was spread, house plants that got to enjoy the great outdoors came back inside. The gardens may look barren, but they're very much alive and just waiting for spring. Bean Hill's plants and people all get to enjoy a little down-time.

"Bunny Hill" garden in mid-Autumn

October is the month when we usually have the first hard freeze. On October 26, the night-time low dipped into the upper 20's, and that put an end to the growing season. This is the month we often see the first snow flurry, and on the morning of October 30, the rain briefly turned to snow before turning back to rain. The flurries melted on contact with any surface, but it still counts as snow, at least here at Bean Hill.

October is also the month when migrating red-wing blackbirds stop by for a day or two, on the flight south, to take advantage of the native plant and human-provided food sources. When they are about to resume their trip, they gather by the hundreds in the tops of trees, and make quite a racket with their distinctive whistling for an hour or so. All at once, they fall silent--every one of them--and then it's lift-off, and goodbye until the end of February.

Frosted zinnia

For you statistics followers: The warm second-half of September led into an October in which sixteen days registered daytime temperatures of 6-17° above normal. Eleven of those days were 12-17° higher than average, a substantial departure from the norm. The average high temperature at Bean Hill this October (69°) was four degrees higher than the historic average.

Eighteen night-time temperatures were above average, with eight of those being 15-20° higher than normal. Despite eight nights of temperatures well above average, the month's average low (46°) was only one degree higher than the historic average.

Rainfall totaled 3.66", which was 1.05" above average. Personally, I'd rather see above average rainfall (as long as it doesn't get carried away), than below average. Drought scares me more than mud and mold.

Red-wing blackbirds gather and then...

The migration resumes

Rebmetpes--September, Backwards

September is a bittersweet month. The long summer days are shortening, the light slants differently, and shadows are longer. Nature changes color as days and nights cool, and all around, there's a busy feeling of pulling inward in preparation for winter. September, like April, is a particularly busy time at Bean Hill. We think of the month as putting-the-yard-to-bed time, with an eye to spring. Ornamental grasses and perennials are cut back, and the flower-heads from the echinacea and rudbeckia are strewn through the meadows to establish new plants for next year. Annuals are removed from pots, and the soil goes into the compost heap. Smaller trees get "caged" to keep the deer from damaging them. Garden statuary and outdoor furniture are stored away. Netting and a heater are added to the pond to keep the fish and frogs safe from predators and ice. Suet feeders that draw in woodpeckers, nuthatches, and titmouses come out of summer storage. The grass gets mowed and the gardens get edged one last time. September is a busy month.

September begins as a warm, sometimes hot month in Central Ohio, but by the time of the Autumn Equinox, the sun's changed position enough that day and night-time temperatures are cooling noticeably. Over the month of September, we usually go from drinking ice tea to hot tea, or even hot chocolate, at the end of a day of yard work. Not so this year.

This September, nature did a flip-flop in Central Ohio, although you wouldn't know that looking only at the high and low average temperatures for the month. In fact, the average high for 2017 matched the historic average high, and the average low was actually 2.1⁰ below the historic average. September's days were evenly divided: 15 days registered below normal high temperatures, and 15 days were above normal. Eleven of the below normal temperature days ranged from 6-20⁰ below the historic average for the day; eleven of the above normal temperature days ranged 6-20⁰ above the historic average. 

The perfect symmetry of the data resulted in a perfectly average "average" high for the month, but doesn't convey the reality of the month's temperature readings. The 15 days of below normal highs happened at the beginning of the month, and the 15 days of above normal highs all came at the end of the month, setting us up for a warmer than normal October. The cool days and nights of the first half of September, coupled with the right amount of rain, caused many of the trees to begin to turn color--ahead of schedule--and some trees shed their leaves entirely. Since mid-September, however, the trees have stopped in their color-changing-leaf-shedding tracks, and are in much the same state as this time last year, still pretty green. (Last year most trees stayed green well into November, and dry weather muted colors when leaves finally did begin to change.) Don't get me wrong--there's nothing wrong with green, but those joyous reds, oranges, and yellows bring a smile and make the hard work a bit easier.

A Near-Perfect Summer---If You Live at Bean Hill

Self-seeding cosmos

Common teasel relics

This has been a beautiful summer at Bean Hill. Plentiful rains made everything green and made it stay that way. Perennials bloomed in abundance. Because of an early start to their breeding season, the birds have also been in abundance. It's been a joy to see hummingbirds, honey bees, and butterflies every day--very different from last year when these were hardly ever spotted.

August's average high and low temperatures, like July's, were slightly below the historic averages. The seven very warm days, when daytime temperatures ran 5-12 degrees above average, were balanced out by the seven nights when temperatures were 5-12 degrees below average. Although the dog days never really materialized this month, we were 2.3" below in expected precipitation, but since all but two of the previous seven months have seen above average rainfall, I'm not too fussed.

Cosmos and clematis make a "creamsicle"

 Typically in August, the gardens take on a different look. Most showy perennials have stopped blooming, and have been cut back. The echinacea and daisies have nearly finished their second bloom. The meadows are turning to browns and olive drabs. There are fewer bird sounds, but lots of noise from the cicadas. Late summer plants like mums, cosmos, and autumn-blooming clematis have emerged--as has the golden-rod in the meadows! The vegetable garden's plants look spent after all their high-yields. The summer crop was so successful that this August, for the first time, we planted lettuce, carrot, beet, and radish seeds to try for a late fall harvest.

Chrysanthemums

Milkweed pods and meadow

The near-perfection of this summer at Bean Hill could make me forget that beyond our little sanctuary there are extreme weather events spawned by a warming Earth. Words like "historic" and "record-breaking" are heard all too frequently for comfort. In the U. S., the summer began with days of such extreme heat in Arizona that commercial jets couldn't fly, and businesses covered their door handles with cloth to keep customers from getting burned. As the summer winds down, extreme heat in the Pacific Northwest has not only shattered records but fed dozens and dozens of wildfires. And then there was Hurricane Harvey that dumped 27 trillion gallons of water on Texas and Louisiana in six days, and set a new record for rainfall--51"--in the continental United States. As I write, Hurricane Irma, one of the biggest Atlantic hurricanes ever recorded is churning toward Florida after destroying a couple of small islands. I think about the weather disasters that occurred and are occurring as I sit in our beautiful sanctuary, and wonder how those in the highest level of our government continue to deny that climate-change is real. Their refusal to believe the science showing that much the Earth's warming is literally fueled by human action is not just ignorant and irresponsible, it is immoral.

Researching Climate Change

A couple of weeks ago Ann and I toured the Byrd Polar and Climate Research Center, the oldest multidisciplinary research center at the Ohio State University. The center's original mission was to study polar and alpine regions. By 2014, the accumulating scientific evidence of the impact a warming atmosphere was having on the coldest parts of the earth led to broadening the center's mission. The center now studies climate changes throughout the world. As part of that mission, BPCRC is advising Columbus city officials about what to expect and how to address the challenges of a rapidly warming environment. The predictions, summarized on a colorful handout, are quite sobering, even to me, who worries about these things much of the time.

I don't mean to make the tour sound like a downer. We saw a video of the 2016 research expedition to the Guliya Glacier on the Tibetan Plateau to retrieve samples of some of the world's oldest ice. The ice cores will give the center's scientists a glimpse into half a million years of Tibetan climate history. Video of the Guliya expedition

The highlight of the tour was the center's Ice Core Facility, the only place in the world where ice from the world's vanishing glaciers exists. That ice is stored in freezers that have been in continuous operation since 1989, and are now at capacity with 4.5 miles of ice cores. (An expansion is underway to add new freezers and other amenities to the center.) We took a VERY brisk walk through one of the freezers; it was - 30 degrees!


It's hard to believe there are still many Americans who doubt that climate change is real. The signs are everywhere, and perhaps nowhere more apparent than in Houston and along the Texas coast this week. The BPCRC handout (right) notes that increased precipitation, especially heavy precipitation, and increased flooding, are to be expected in a warming climate. On August 7, the New York Times published the draft report by scientists from thirteen federal agencies which "concludes that Americans are feeling the effects of climate change right now. It directly contradicts claims....that the human contribution to climate change is uncertain, and that the ability to predict the effects is limited." According to the article, one of the studies cited in the report "concluded that climate change made extreme events 20 times more likely in Texas." In light of what has and is happening in Texas, that prescient warning has tragically become historic fact. NY Times: Government Report Finds Drastic Impact of Climate Change on U.S.

July at Bean Hill

The last daylily has come and gone, but what a show they put on this year, even though they're all past due to be divided. We have dozens and dozens of daylilies. They prefer sunny, well-drained locations, but I find they thrive in almost any condition. They are among my favorites; all those bright yellows and oranges are simply joyous. At the Carr Farm across the road, a horticulturalist raises daylilies of all colors, and mid-July sells them for $5 a plant, so we've expanded the color palette or our daylily collection.

July has been gorgeous, with the average monthly high and low temperatures both 1.5 degrees below the historic averages. We had a few very hot and humid days, but no daytime temperature was more than 5 degrees above normal. Twenty nights had above normal temperatures, with three being 9-11 degrees higher than normal. However, sixteen days registered below normal highs, and so things balanced out nicely. If I pay no attention to what's happened temperature-wise in the Southwest and Pacific Northwest this summer, or to the Antarctic ice shelf that is now an iceberg the size of Delaware, I can pretend that all's right with the world.

There was more than enough rain for the month, and it mostly came in two torrential downpours. The average normal rainfall for July is 4.79". This month we had 8.33", slightly more than 3.5" above normal. Two of those inches covered our basement floor when the sump pumps couldn't keep up with the day-long deluge! That was a first.

At the beginning of the month, we introduced 100 leaf cutter bees to their new home just before a surprising downpour, and never saw them again. Last week we brought in 100 more, and they seem quite happy. As I noted in last month's blog, we're seeing lots of honey bees and bumble bees and more butterflies than in the past two years. The re-emergence of those pollinators plus the introduction of the mason and leaf cutter bees--along with more than plentiful rain--may account for the lush beauty of this year's gardens.

Between mid-September to mid-October we'll be having the daylilies divided. (We don't do this kind of work anymore.) So if you live in the area and are looking to fill space in your garden with a prolific and faithful bloomer, come on by.

Summertime

June's weather statistics for Bean Hill echoed May's, although June had more days of above normal temperatures (23 vs. 14), and more days of 10 degrees or more above normal (6 vs. 2). Like May, June's high average was 1.5 degrees above the historic average high, but the average lows were 2.4 degrees below the historic average. For the second month, precipitation was almost one inch above normal (.98). Overall, the month was beautiful due to low humidity: skies were very blue, and in the shade, even on the hottest days, the breeze was refreshing.

Monarchs and Black Swallowtails have been spotted. Cabbage Whites continue to be seen in abundance. The Mason Bees have completed their life cycle, and left two dozen nesting tubes filled with cocoons. Soon we'll move those to safe keeping, and if all goes well, next spring 5-6 young bees should emerge from each tube.

Hoverfly or flower fly collecting pollen from alyssum

I'm paying a little closer attention to things in nature I've taken for granted, like the tiny flying insects dancing all over the alyssum. With the help of a close-up camera lens, I noticed they were marked like bees, so I snapped a few photos, did a little research, and learned something new. This little guy is a hoverfly, sometimes called a syrphid or flower fly. The hoverflies' bee-like coloration gives them some protection; people (and presumably birds) think they're aggressive and leave them alone. In fact, like native bees, they're gentle and very beneficial pollinators. In addition, their larvae (also known by that unsavory word "maggots") eat aphids and thrips, those unwanted creatures that literally suck the life out of your plants. One insect ID site says if you have these tiny flies in your garden, you can count yourself lucky! We're lucky!

Below are photos of a few other of the smaller summertime residents at Bean Hill.

A tiny grasshopper casts a big shadow

Echinacea (coneflower) and a busy bee

Milkweed community: Monarch-to-be, squash bug eggs, and milkweed bugs

A Perfect(ly) Normal Month

California Poppy

Five-five years ago this week, the first part of Rachel Carson's Silent Spring was published in The New Yorker. Carson's work exposed the dangers of the widely-used pesticide, DDT, and gave impetus to the environmental movement and led to the creation of the Environmental Protection Agency. As a result, our air and water got cleaner and safer. It's hard to believe that anyone would think that ensuring clean air and water is a waste of taxpayers' money, but such people exist at the highest levels of our government; the EPA is all but completely gutted now. Unless you're living under a rock (which is a very tempting thing to do these days), you know the person most responsible for destroying EPA protections, also pulled America out of participation in the Paris Climate Agreement at the beginning of this month.

Cabbage White butterfly feasting on Hidcote Lavender

First salad fixin's of the season

Relaxing in the small pond

Pond iris

The somewhat good news is that the withdrawal from the Paris agreement has, like Carson's influential book, heightened environmental consciousness and motivated organizations and individual Americans to take actions to protect the Earth and all living things. On Tuesday, June 13 at 3 P.M. EDT, the Natural Resources Defense Council will hold a teleconference briefing on how we can and will respond to the United States being pulled out of the Paris agreement. If you're interested, you can RSVP at this link NRDC Teleconference on Paris Climate Agreement. If teleconferencing isn't your thing, you might consider donating to NRDC whose lawyers defend the environment in the courts.

Hummingbird landing

As for the weather stats for May at Bean Hill, it was the first month of 2017 during which high and low temperatures were in line with the historic monthly averages, and precipitation was .95" above the historic monthly average. I'm happy to report that not only did our Mason Bees thrive (23 nesting tubes are completely filled, and several partially), I've observed a marked increase in the number of all kinds of bees. Additionally, I saw more butterflies in May than I did all of last summer.

The gardens are lush from all the rain. The heirloom peonies (now in their sixth decade!) bloomed, as did the Siberian irises, and the bright poppies. Sadly, not a single of our many bearded irises bloomed. They were the first to respond with vigorous growth during the overly warm February, and were done in by March frosts. The Killdeer and the Ruby-throated Hummingbirds returned, the Baltimore Oriole made a second visit, and the frogs became active again. Ann and I harvested strawberries and the makings of the season's first home-grown salad.

23 capped nesting tubes

These heirloom peonies have blossomed
every spring for nearly 65 years

May 2017 at Bean Hill was joyfully "normal" and exceptionally beautiful.

May Day...Mayday!

May 2017 began with headlines calling the floods in Texas, Missouri, and Arkansas "unprecedented" and "historic". As I noted in a previous blog (4/6/2017), we are hearing these weather descriptors with great regularity. Other than the melting of the Earth's glaciers and the rise in sea levels, the most obvious result of climate change is frequent severe--literally devastating--weather events. So as this month began, "unprecedented" and "historic" were repeated again and again in describing what was happening in the middle part of the country. Two days before, on April 29, nearly 200,000 people gathered in Washington, D.C. to protest the current administration's unprecedented and historic assault on policies that put the brakes on those human activities scientifically proven to be contributing to, if not causing, climatic changes. That same day Washington tied the record high (90 degrees---19 degrees above normal) for that date, AND the Environmental Protection Agency, now under the "leadership" of climate-change denier Scott Pruitt, scrubbed climate science from its website (see EPA removes climate change data, other scientific information from website).

Serviceberry

As May began, I analyzed the weather records for April 2017 at Bean Hill. No record highs or lows were set or even tied. However, the highs for 24 of April's 30 days were above normal, ranging from a modest 2 degrees to a troubling 20 degrees. Of those days, 15--half of the month's days--saw high temperatures of at least 10 degrees above normal. In all, April's average high was 7 degrees above the month's historical average. The average low for the month was 6 degrees above the historic average.

On April 4, the Bradford pear, which set blossoms in February, burst into bloom, and within the next four days, the serviceberry and crabapple trees began to bloom. All the blooms were beautiful, but lasted only two to four days before fading, possibly as a result of the blossoms having been set much too early in the year. Photographs I've taken in past years of the blooming trees carry dates two to three weeks later than when the blossoms appeared this year. To stay calm, I've taken to telling myself we're actually living somewhere around the Ohio River, and that all of this is perfectly normal---for northern Kentucky. The Arbor Day Foundation has an interesting map showing how hardiness zones have changed across the nation in the past 25 years (see Differences between 1990 USDA hardiness zones and 2015 Arborday.org hardiness zones).

Succulents: Sedum and
hens and chicks

Placing plants in pond

When I'm out in the gardens, I try to focus on the miracle of spring, marveling at nature's resilience, and enjoying the emerging beauty. I think about what I can do personally to preserve and protect. I can't heal the damage to the Earth already done, largely by human greed and stupidity, but here at Bean Hill, in small ways, I can try to counteract some of the damage. This year I'm planting more succulents; they spread nicely and help to control the weeds, which are getting out of control due to the increasing summer heat and dryness. (Last summer I discovered a two and a half foot tall dandelion growing among the echinacea!) I've researched, thanks to Quaker Earthcare Witness, which native pollinator plants should be added to our gardens (see Choosing native plants for pollinators in your area), and made several trips to Baker's Acres.

Mason bees and nesting
tubes. A female has laid
eggs in the sealed tube
in the bottom row

More plants are being added to the larger pond to cut down on evaporation during the heat of summer. Lastly, as I wrote in my previous blog, we've introduced native mason bees, and at the end of the month we plan to introduce native leafcutter bees. By the way, I am happy to report that there already four completed mason bee nests, meaning little mason bees are in the process of forming.