Chirp Chirp Chirp

One of the pointless things I do in my life is to try to explain humans to animals. Lest you think I am crazy, I would like to point out that I know the animals can't understand me. It's just my way of gently venting my frustrations at the difficulties of trying to take close-up pictures of tiny beings who are afraid of you. Mostly I try to convince them that I personally mean them no harm, but sometimes I will point out the general shortcomings of humans beings - poor (compared to other animals) eyesight, hearing, sense of smell, generally being slow and lumbering (compared to other animals), unable to fly - to make the point that for the most part, we're not that capable of doing anything. I also try to convince insects that there is no reason to fear my camera, because they will, ironically, flee the lens and land on me. I tell them that they might as well let me take their picture in that case, because between the two of us, me and my camera, I really am the more dangerous one (which perhaps flies in the face of my previous assertion that I am harmless. But then again, it is a bit of a lie to try to convince them that humans in general can't do anything to them). But sometimes there are other kinds of dialog between me and the other inhabitants of my little world. And I say dialog, because in this particular instance, the animals talk back to me. What I am talking about is today's Backyard Bird of the Day:

 We have bluebird houses in the backyard which every year are inhabited by house wrens. The wrens currently have young in their nest, and they get very upset when I am too close to the birdhouse. The way they express their annoyance is to sit in the tree near the bird house and chirp at me. I tell them that I am not going to hurt their babies, but they clearly don't believe me - in spite of the fact that I never have. What is fascinating about this behavior is that they do it because they expect it to work - and I suppose that I am reinforcing this belief because I eventually do walk away without robbing their nest. But I wonder about what would happen if they tried to use this technique against an actual predator. It's not very aggressive. When the robins had a nest with young in it on the porch last year, if I went out the door to look at them, they would dive at me - and they'd get pretty close, too. The wrens don't do that, they just chirp at me to go away. But if I was a snake, or a raccoon, I just don't see this working.

Backyard Bug of the Day:

Damselfly

Random Bugs:

 Bee on black eyed Susan

 Springtail?

 Whitefly. This is a bit of a macrophotography coup. These are very hard to get pictures of, because they are tiny, and usually fly away before I can get close enough to take a picture.

 Baby assassin bug

 It rained overnight and in the morning, so the yard was damp (and humid. So ickily humid), which is the kind of weather that sowbugs like, so there were sowbugs around.

 Found the tiny larva again - but I only saw it because it was moving.

 Wasp

 Still trying to get a really good picture of a tumbling flower beetle. I got two today that were better than usual.

 

 Hoverfly - more on this anon.

I found a cocoon that has some kind of really tiny larva cozied up to it.

Looper, looping across the car.

Arachnid Appreciation:
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 I was so intent on the hoverly as I was taking its picture that I didn't notice that it was not alone on this flower (the picture above is the same hoverfly on a different flower).

 See the tangle of white something on the opposite side of the flower's center?

 Zoomed in view - tiny flower crab spider