Tag: Wildlife

Although we no longer see Monarch butterflies, our milkweed patch attracts Milkweed Tussock Moth caterpillars:

This one apparently died on the patio step, half the house away from the milkweed patch, and the rear spines (on the right) have begun falling out. During the next week, I teleported two more from that step to the patch, under the assumption they’d be happier on a tasty leaf than on a slate slab.

They were all early instars, very short and quite fuzzy. Later instars will be much longer, with more distinct tussocks.

I wonder if you could shear them and use the “fur” for decoration? It wouldn’t spin into thread like wool, but someone, somewhere, has surely performed art with Tussock Caterpillar spines…

We spotted another turtle while on a grocery ride:

Although this is certainly meddling in the turtle’s affairs, it seemed reasonable on a torrid day with plenty of hot asphalt to cross:

I made the (possibly unwarranted) assumption that the turtle wanted to cross the road; I’ve been wrong before.

In any event, this must be what teleportation feels like:

There’s not really much on that side of the road, other than an inactive oil spill site left over from when Love Oil ran a tank farm. That’s why it’s called Love Rd, of course.

Perhaps someone else will help the turtle cross the road in the other direction…

It was not, however, a pleasant turtle:

That’s a fairly large snapping turtle in the middle of the Dutchess Rail Trail, between Morgan Lake and the Violet Avenue tunnel.

Snappers can move just under the speed of light for about a foot in order to latch onto you, but they’re not quite as fast while turning around: always pass to their rear. You do not attempt to save them from their folly at being in the middle of the road / trail / driveway: they have absolutely no patience with meddlers.

Turtles lay eggs around this time of year, which means they’re on the move, which means they cross roads, which means they get mashed. We’ve seen maybe half a dozen smashed turtles on our usual routes.

Quite some years ago, we found one of its relations in the flower garden beside our house, where it climbed at least 18 inches of vertical concrete block to see what was inside. It was about two feet long, jaws to tail, and obviously a survivor:

Those missing plates probably didn’t help its attitude in the least.

It eventually klonked down to the driveway without our assistance:

After a pause for gimbal unlocking and compass recalibration, it ambled off toward the Mighty Wappingers Creek. The wall gets much shorter to the right, which is likely where it climbed up.

We wished it good hunting …

Neither turtle was radio-active.