An excellent time to observe the more elusive visitors to a garden is early morning. It’s mid-July, and I’m up well before 7:00 this morning. A humid 75-degree haze fogs the windows and runs in rivulets down the panes. Our street is quiet. Only the regular runners and the occasional commuter are out and about.
I drain the last of my coffee and fit the Nikon D-800 with a macro lens. Stepping outside, the clear notes of our resident song sparrow pierce the air. I step into the front garden populated with dwarf conifers, barberry, roses, and lush fountains of maiden grass dripping with dew. I don’t have long to wait for the action to begin.
There! A black-and-blue flash lands on a rosebud right in front of me, instantly motionless. I creep closer to avoid spooking him. It’s a male jewelwing damselfly. His impossibly blue body glints in the early light. Two clicks of the camera shutter and he’s gone.
Male ebony jewelwing damselfly
Wow. Damselflies, like dragonflies, usually prefer freshwater habitat. Although the creek behind us is within shouting distance, this is only the second damselfly I’ve seen in the garden in five years. What a lucky sighting! His ethereal visit indicates at least a moderately healthy ecosystem.
Long-legged fly
Now a tiny long-legged fly (Dolichopodidae) hovers and lands repeatedly before sitting still long enough for me to snap a shot. His streamlined form could be a prototype for jet aircraft. Did you ever see such cool-looking neon green armor?
Farther down the bank, stars of Showy Milkweed (Asclepsia speciosa) have just opened. I spy a Halictid bee, one of many species of ‘sweat bee’ as most of us call them, pausing for a sip of nectar. Only later when I view his photo up close will I appreciate the iridescence of those delicate wings. And what an intriguing structure this milkweed flower has.
Halictid fly sweat bee
The sun is already hot and I move on. I rouse a few groggy bumblebees, not unlike furry burrs on the lambs’ ears. I skip taking their photo as I have too many bee portraits already. They seem to like the felted foliage as much I do.
As for the honeybees and butterflies, it’s still too shady at this hour for all but the cabbage whites. I’ll observe them later when the sun is high. For now, these intriguingly beautiful transients were thrill enough for one morning.
