Summer Solstice
Phenology – “a branch of science concerned with the relationship between climate and periodic biological phenomena (as the migration of birds or the flowering and fruiting of plants).”
Summer Solstice
Does the summer solstice really mark the beginning of summer? What about Memorial Day, the last day of school, the first trip to the beach, the first cookout, the first sunny days in the 90s, or the family gathering on the 4th of July? Growing up as a kid in Rhode Island, the last day of school clearly marked the beginning of my summer vacation, but school typically ended on or about the solstice, and the first trip to the beach followed soon thereafter. So, for many years, the practical beginning of summer for me, my friends, and my family pretty much coincided with the celestial benchmark.
When I went to college, summer clearly began with the end of the spring term, which was just before Memorial Day weekend. For the next forty or so years, since it took me that long to escape from Boston and the collegiate calendar, that weekend remained the line of demarcation separating the busy working days of the spring from the fancy-free days of June, July and August. Thus, for most of my life, I have considered summer to begin on May 31st, which, speaking of lines of demarcation and important milestones, is also our anniversary. However, when we retired and moved to Sugar Hill, we found ourselves in a region where the weather is more in line with the calendar. At this latitude and altitude, summer really does begin sometime around the solstice, which the scientists tell us occurs at a precise instant sometime just before, on, or just after June 21st.
Solstice Sights
Late June is a wonderful time to spend some time outside. The lupine is in full bloom, along with many other wildflowers. Birds are busy singing, defending territories, building nests, or feeding their young. Dragonflies and butterflies capture your eye as you walk through the fields and by the wetlands. Here are some of things that I have seen in my backyard at the summer solstice.
June 20, 1998. A black duck was in the pond with 2 ducklings, in the reeds on our side of the point. When I approached, the ducklings plodded off into the woods.
June 20, 2012, 92 degrees. A week or two ago, we thought that the bluebirds had finally defeated the tree swallows in the annual battle for the bird house by the patio. However, today we saw wrens feeding their young in the oft-disputed house!
June 20, 2018, 74 degrees, light clouds. Chalk-fronted corporals are very active today. A poor female busily laying eggs on the surface of the pond was quickly grabbed by a male. They formed a wheel, but only for about ten seconds, when she broke free. He chased after her, sometimes the two of them spinning around in circles only six or eight inches in diameter, before he gave up. A while later, she was again busy laying her eggs. She would rise six to twelve inches in hops of one to four feet within a small area about five or six feet in diameter.
Chalk Fronted Corporal, June 21, 2022. The males have bright white “corporal stripes: on their thorax and bright white coloring on their abdomen. The females have similar patterns, but the colors are muted.
June 20, 2020, 90 degrees; hot, heavy and still; thunder clouds forming, beautiful cumulus clouds abound, yet the sky remains half blue. Some thunder. Big ravens flew low over the front yard. The dragonflies apparently don’t like the ominous weather or the evil portended by the low-flying ravens. Instead of yesterday’s dozens of chalk-fronted corporals, today there were only a few lonely individuals. On the other hand, nearly two dozen bluets swarmed over the small area where the pond weeds float near the surface.
A while later, a sudden bit of cool wind not only cleared the heat-induced oppressiveness, but also blew in the missing chalk-fronted corporals, who now swarmed over the pond like a bunch of overgrown bluets. A 3-inch bullfrog watched the dragonfly activity, but didn’t move.
June 20, 2022, 315pm, sunny, breezy, great! Two small green frogs finally popped up out of the mat after I’d been sitting at our end for ten minutes waiting for something to happen. The smaller one still had a long tail (photo), but the other one looked like a frog.
June 21, 2018. I came across two green frogs sunning by the northeast corner of the pond. I had time to take a couple of pictures, so I was startled when the larger one suddenly jumped, landing in the pond with a plop. The slightly smaller one, only about an inch and a half long, didn’t budge. I guess it’s more difficult to startle a young green frog than it is to startle a 72-year-old man.
Late June is when waxwings first show up around the pond, when song sparrows capture insects for their nestlings, and great blue herons lay their eggs in huge nests in dead trees.
If you’re lucky, you may come across other youngsters when you take a walk in the woods, just as I did more than twenty years ago when I was first starting to record detailed observations of bird behavior:
June 21, 2002. I went back to the spot in the Lower 40 where I had found the nest with catbird eggs on the 10th. There were four baby birds in the nest, two with their mouths open but making no noise and two that looked like they had just emerged from their eggs, as they were rather wet and lying in a strange shape.
A while later, I heard what at first I thought were squirrels, but when a yellow-bellied sapsucker flew to a hole about three inches in diameter ten feet below the top of a 55-foot tall snag, I realized I was hearing hungry sapsucker nestlings. The father flew to the tree every two to three minutes until the youngsters were satisfied.
· 4:29:30 – 2 to 3 seconds at the tree
· But4:31:15 – 1 second at the tree, quickly into the nest and out (2 seconds)
· 4:33 – 5 seconds at the tree, 33 seconds in the nest
· Every 2-3 minutes until 4:40, while the babies were continuously mewling
· 4:40 -4:49 – maybe just one visit; the babies were quiet
Back in 1998, when we enjoyed our first summer solstice in Sugar Hill, I knew almost nothing about butterflies. Along with everyone else more than two years old, I could identify monarchs, but beyond that, I was only able to identify swallowtails. Until I obtained a digital camera, my education did not progress very far. Like a child, I might note that I had seen a blue, white, or yellow butterfly, and I certainly enjoyed watching any butterflies as they fluttered by. However, using only binoculars and a guidebook, it was impossible to identify a butterfly unless it was large, distinctively colored, and willing to sit for more than a few seconds.
Even with a digital camera, I found it difficult to get photos showing enough detail to distinguish among the many look-alike species. Often, a good photo of the underside of the wings is required, which is not a problem for American Ladies or Harris Checkerspots, which frequently land on a branch or a leaf with their wings folded. However, other species seldom land at all or land with their wings spread, thereby hiding any key identifying marks found on the undersides.
June 21, 2022, 76 degrees, mostly cloudy, 1130. A lone clubtail posed on a fern below the dam, so I was able to take a photo of one of these dragonflies that almost never lands, at least not near our pond. Butterflies were active along the dam: yellow swallowtails, common ringlets, skippers, nymphs, and blues. (to be continued) …
Ducks and ducklings are not as colorful as most butterflies, but if they choose to live in our small pond, they can easily be photographed. The trick is to get a photo that documents interesting behavior.
Solstice Surprises
In addition to the many birds, butterflies, dragonflies, frogs and toads that will always be seen or heard at the solstice, you may also come across a few surprises. For example, garter snakes are fairly common, but they usually slither into to the undergrowth as soon as I approach. In late June, these snakes are on the lookout for the frogs and toads that come to the pond to mate. Once in a while, I have been surprised to find one content to lie in the sun, ignoring me as I take a couple of pictures.
June 22, 2015. A large garter snake stretched out along the edge of the patio.
This is also a good time to look for newts and tadpoles. Usually the newts are solitary, but once in a while I’ve seen what may be the beginning of a relationship.
June 22, 2018, 245pm, 74 degrees, light clouds, breezy – “what is so rare as a day in June?” Four or more newts were visible at our end of the pond, not just floating and grabbing an occasional bite of air, but also checking each other out. So far, nothing more exciting than a hug. Large tadpoles have mostly hidden, but two just swam across the open area, very fast in a straight line. So shy as tadpoles, so steady as adults!
And late June is when a fawn finally gets the courage to wander off on its own. Unfortunately, without a map or a GPS, they can end up in alien territory.
June 22, 2022, 66 degrees, cloudy, noon. I watched out the window as a fawn wandered down my trail from the Point to the back yard, froze, tried the trail to the array, came back toward the yard, and finally trotted toward Pearl Lake Road. I went out, but couldn’t see where it went.
Summer Solstice Sound and Light
In the North Country, you might see the first fireflies in early June, and you might still see some stalwarts flashing their signals to celebrate the 4th of July, but their peak activity begins right around the summer solstice. Perhaps a more knowledgeable phenologist would explain their activity in relation to the emergence of no-seeums or some other noxious insect, but I prefer to believe that these insects are solar-powered miracles that naturally thrive during the longest days. Even in our first June spent in Sugar Hill, at a time when I could only name two species of butterflies, I was entranced by the fireflies.
June 20, 1998. The fireflies were quite lively; apparently, they are more active in the heat, and it has been 90 degrees the last two days. There were about 4 dozen over the meadow, flickering constantly. We observed various flashing sequences: 1 very long (2 seconds); 3 fast; 5-6 very fast. There were also a lot in the front, but not as many as in the meadow. I brought one into the porch to surprise Nancy.
I’m not too disappointed on nights when it is too cold for the fireflies, because a short walk to the pond will still be rewarded with a chorus of frogs and toads. The peepers start calling in May, but by late June, there are so many that their chorus has changed from enjoyable sounds indicating the approach of summer into a cacophony suitable for a rock concert. Peepers are the smallest and loudest of our frogs, but they will sometimes be joined by the short trills of tree frogs, the longer trills of toads, and occasional grunts from green frogs and bullfrogs.
June 20, 2023, 11pm, 58 degrees. A few fireflies in the front yard, but too cold for much of a display on a beautiful, clear, dark night with a tree frog concert floating over the pond.
When my brother Paul first experienced a warm evening by the pond in late June, he referred to the fireflies and frog chorus as the “Sugar Hill Sound and Light Show.”
In conclusion, there’s a lot to see and hear when you wander around Sugar Hill at the summer solstice. It’s not only about the lupine, but then, don’t forget about the lupine!