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It's been cooler in the morning, but temperatures get into the 80s by noon or 1 PM. Having had little luck since last Saturday, I decided to go at noon. I got to the mini-swamp #1, and there were no dragons or damsels. There were two wildflowers that I'll have to get IDs for. So, it was off to site #2. Zip, nada, nothing. My Pied-billed Grebe was in his usual middle of the pond place, still preening and facing directly into the sun. We have to have a talk. To the boat ramp. A Black Phoebe. It was getting hot. I sat on the bank, mopped my brow, and went up the hill to see if ANY Cardinal Meadowhawks were still around and hopefully perched on the Horsetail Grass. Bingo! One. I took six shots, and looked for butterflies. Nothing. So, off to #5 where I used to see dragons and even more damsels, a favorite spot for laying eggs by both. At the stream (see yesterday's uploads), there were hawkers and darners flying at top speed as though they had little time and they had to make the most of it. Three were laying eggs, but I saw five individual damsels on different vegetation. Not much else, and no new species. On a hunch, I went back up the hill, but no, still the one Meadowhawk. There was a difference between this one and the Cardinals from early last month. The veins in the wings weren't as well defined. The usual red veins were now orange. And, believe it or not, but that red you're looking at is at least two shades "duller" than last month. This dragon was old. What a shame.
He'll fall prey to a sharper frog, or be a entree for a heron or egret. Or, one morning, it will be in the 50s and not get past 72: he'll be perched on a reed in the pond, and simply fall off. That he made it through four months is remarkable. He's successfully mated and he'll be responsible for the 2020 generation.
The Flame Skimmers and Blue Dashers are gone. The Black Saddlebags are dwindling fast. Maybe I'll try starting at one tomorrow.
I've gone through what are now 2019 archives. Some I relegated to the sub-archive. I won't be posting those, but I have 30 that will go up before I start looking for birds.
Meanwhile - you didn't think I'd mention "mopping my brow" if there wasn't more to the story - I was halfway home, reached in my back pocket for my king-sized bright red handkerchief. Not there. I liked that hanky. It even had a laundry mark from 1958 (those of you over 70 explain to the others what a laundry mark is: it will help them through detective mysteries). I started to trudge back. First, I met a woman with an SX65 (never saw one before). Asked her if she had a Kleenex. Yes! Allergies kicking up. And she asked, "Did you lose a red..." Yes! Over by the boat ramp. I looked across the pond and saw a red flag. Of course, the wind had carried it into the lagoon. I saved the heirloom and competed my 20 mile hike! Okay, four miles, but it was hot.
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