Some privacy, please!

I love butterflies.  I recently heard a character on a television programme describe them as, "Worms with wings."  And I suppose they are, really, but I still think they are beautiful.  A favourite butterfly from my childhood is the Cabbage White (Pieris rapae).  They were frequent visitors to the nasturtiums and stock that my mother had planted outside the living room window and could be spotted all summer long fluttering over the lawn from flowerbed to flowerbed.
The cabbage white is so named because it is rather fond of all cruciferous vegetables.  Too fond, actually.  This small butterfly is probably one of the most successful invasive species on the planet.  Having been spread from Europe to all over the globe (by human travel mostly), it is considered a very worrisome pest when it comes to agricultural crops.
There are a lot of cabbage whites around Vinoland right now, they seem to be especially partial to hanging around a few stands of mallow that are flowering.  Problem is, for me, they don't alight with their wings open (unlike the Pipevine Swallowtail and Common Buckeye) and they are constantly flitting to and fro, so they are hard to photograph.  And that's why I disturbed the privacy of this couple (wings closed, but stationary), who were busy working on producing a whole new generation of mustard munching caterpillars.  Sorry, don't mind me.  Carry on.

Frasscinating!

This Monarch caterpillar, hanging around today in the gardens of TWWIAGE, is enjoying a nice snack of milkweed.  In fact, this caterpillar will have to do more than just nibble on this leaf, it will have to consume a huge amount of milkweed in order to bulk up its body mass prior to pupation. During the two weeks the caterpillar takes to go through five instars of growth it can increase its original body weight up to 2000 times.  Apparently, a Monarch caterpillar can chomp through one milkweed leaf in under 4 minutes.  That's a lot of milkweed.  And a lot of frass, or caterpillar poop to the layperson.  (Ha!  I just typed the word poop.  Titter, titter.)  I love nature.

A helping hand.

I started to prune Vinoland's Syrah vines yesterday afternoon, but rain stopped play!  Today, when I finally made it out into the vineyard, after my weekly phone call to Blighty, I was joined in the Syrah by a Pipevine Swallowtail (Battus philenor).  This beautiful butterfly fluttered from the vine on to my sleeve and then proceeded to get quite comfortable on my hand, then a vine, as I took his photograph.  Most likely docile because of the 31 degree temps this morning, he was quite content to rest on my thumb, in the sunshine, until I got bored and unceremoniously dumped him on a stray daffodil - a Vinogirl has to prune!

A social butterfly.

The Bradford Pear trees (Pyrus calleryiana) at TWWIAGE are in full bloom. Whilst eating my lunch yesterday, I was treated to a visit from a Mourning Cloak butterfly (Nymphalis antiopa). This rather large brush-footed butterfly, known as the 'Camberwell Beauty' in England, didn't seem to be in a hurry to go anywhere other than the safe haven of this blossoming tree.  I watched as the friendly lepidoptera flitted from cluster to cluster, probably enjoying a lunch of nectar while I munched on an apple.  Of course, it was extremely windy and he most likely just wanted to stay put and avoid having his wings blown off!
The high winds of the past two days have now abated, and although I heard fans running in a neighbouring vineyard when I let the Vinodogs out this morning, the frost that had been forecast for this sunny, March morn did not materialise.  Roll on budbreak...but not before I have finished pruning.

Farming can be hazardous to your health.

When I woke up this morning, if anyone had asked me to write down the most bizarre thing that could possibly happen to me today I couldn't have dreamed up this little doozy.
I had been out in the vineyard no more than 30 seconds when a moth flew into my ear. Even though Vinomaker was away at a conference in San Francisco, I did not panic. Mirrors, tweezers, warm water irrigation, and a severe case of vertigo featured prominently in the next half hour or so. My neighbour, a nurse was no where to be seen. I conceded defeat.
Three hours later I exited the local hospital with a sore ear, a bruised ego, and a bottle of antibiotic drops in my hand.
Not exactly the most fruitful of days.

The butterfly upon the road.

My constant companion this afternoon in the vineyard was Junonia coenia, that's a Common Buckeye butterfly to me, or you. Unlike the Painted Lady butterflies who migrated right on by me in March, this lovely lepidoptera would alight beside me as I worked, flutter between the leaves of the vines, flit from a cool blade of grass to the warm gravel of the access road...until I went to get my camera.
Never work with animals or children!