Frosty

I used to watch the tv show Northern Exposure, which was set in a very small town in Alaska, and at the end of the theme song at the beginning of the show was the sound of a hawk's screech. I had never heard that sound in real life, but somehow I knew what it was. Several years after the show went off the air we bought the land for our house, and the land-purchasing process took several months, during which we would often come to visit the lot, and do things like have picnics here. One glorious autumn afternoon while we were waiting for all of the business to take care of itself we were having one of our picnics and I heard that sound from the theme song of the show, that wild shriek coming from somewhere up in the sky. It was a thrilling moment for me, and it felt like a message telling me that I was where I belonged, that this was to be my place on earth. I don't know why it affected me that way, but it was a profoundly happy moment, feeling like I had been accepted by the place that I wanted to be my home. Of course I looked up when I heard that shriek, and there was the hawk; I am not good at bird identification in general, and raptor identification in particular, but I recognize a red-tailed hawk when I see one, because their eponymous feature is quite blatant when they are flying.

The other reason it was exciting for me to see that hawk is because it was probably the first sign I had of how wild out property really was. We had been living for eight years on the other side of the same city as we are now, and it was not wild on that side of town - not in an animal way, anyway. It was wonderful to know that we were going to be living (we were still only hoping, at that time) in a place where there were hawks flying overhead.

But back to the tv show. The point I wanted to make about this is that there is a difference between experiencing something through your tv, or a movie screen, or a computer. Maybe this is obvious - that's why people travel, because to see Old Faithful, or the Eiffel Tower, or a redwood tree, or the pyramids at Giza in person is not the same thing as seeing them in person. I don't know why it is that way, but it is. And even something as simple as the cry of a wild bird is different, better, outside in the open than it is at the end of the theme song of a tv show. And seeing a bug up close and personal is a different, better experience than looking at a picture of one on a computer. Trust me, I have done both.

Now, I'm not saying you should stop reading my blog, because of course you shouldn't. You should keep reading it, because... well, I can't really think of a reason, but keep doing it. But you should also go outside and look for some bugs, or any other kind of nature you can find. Maybe this is not the perfect time of year to do it, but you can make a New Year's resolution in January that as soon as spring comes, you are going to start exploring nature, even if it's just in your own backyard. Because I can tell you, even if you only have a tiny corner of the world that is your wilderness, you can find some amazing things there. And if you find something that you have only ever seen on my blog, on your computer, maybe you'll get that same thrill I got from the hawk, of seeing something you never saw with your own eyes, and maybe you, too, will feel like nature has accepted you in its home.

So what brought this on? In a rare moment when no one was using a lawn tractor or leaf blower to clean up their yard this afternoon I heard a hawk screech today, and it reminded me of that day, and set me off on this train of thought. But enough philosophizing. I found something I didn't expect when I went outside today looking for bugs. I found this:

Frost. That may not seem particularly noteworthy, because we have been having some cold nights, but this was at one o'clock in the afternoon. Not a time when I would expect to still find frost on the grass. It was in the shade, so not melted away by the sun, but still. I didn't think it was that cold out.

So I know what you're thinking. Today is that day, the day when I find no bugs in the backyard. Now, I knew before I went outside that this would not be that day, because I saw a bug of indeterminate species fly by the window before I went out. And just steps out the door I saw a fly on the side of the, house, basking in the sunshine (it flew away immediately, so I didn't get a picture).  But it was definitely NOT a good day for finding bugs.

Here is the entirety of the bugs I was able to photograph (which does not include the several flies I saw on the side of the house during my walk):

 One ladybug who has not found somewhere warm to hole up for the winter. It was in the rock garden near the front porch.

 And one katydid, and you can tell what this critter is thinking - "OH MY GOSH IT'S FREAKIN' FREEZING OUT HERE!"

Or maybe I'm projecting. I was pretty shocked to see this katydid. I haven't seen one in ages, but I have heard them, though when I hear bugs in the backyard I pretty much tend to lump the sounds together under the term crickets. Part of why I was so shocked to see this is because when I was in the backyard, I didn't hear any bugs at all. It wasn't until I went to the front, down near the street, that I not only found this katydid on a rock, but could hear the chorus of katydids and crickets in among the plants growing on the bedrock in front of the house down by the street (I couldn't see any others, though). It's a much warmer microclimate down there, basically because of the rocks, which the sun warms up nicely, and they retain the heat well. The backyard is almost always cooler - we have some interesting microclimates in the yard, mostly from obvious sources - shade versus sun, rocky versus tree-y. But there used to be one spot in the backyard where you felt like you walked through a door into a cooler room, even though there was no physical feature that would cause such a difference.  Anyway, I digress. There wasn't any frost in the front yard (and I did check the temperature when I went in the house - 39ºF, with the sensor in the shade in the backyard).

I did find exactly one arthropod in the backyard where it was colder, and here it is for Arachnid Appreciation:
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