By Ted Purcell
Community correspondent
July is typically our warmest and most humid month. Comparing this summer to last, we are off to a much “wetter” start in terms of rainfall. Last year, watering bans were being put up by towns, and local ponds and reservoirs were at drastically low water levels. As a bird watcher, I have to admit I was a little excited about that, as it meant there would be more sandpipers (usually beach birds) here locally.
As of this writing (early July) our reservoirs and local water are full and rivers and streams are running, which is a good thing. May and June this year were dry and cool, which for many is welcome, especially schoolteachers trying to keep students focused as the weather gets nicer.
But the cool weather made for a slow start for many vegetable gardens. The list of things that “love” hot, humid days and nights with temperatures above 65 degrees may be short, but tomato plants, peppers, cucumbers and summer squash are on that list. Our garden has taken off with this late June/early July warm and muggy weather.
Nine months out of the year, when we have humid weather many people refer to it as “raw”, which Merriam-Webster defines as “disagreeably damp or cold.” In July and August many folks refer to it as “muggy” which Merriam-Webster defines as “being warm, damp or close.” In our house we regularly have debates as to it being “raw” or “muggy.” July is our muggiest month each year, which makes swimming in pools or local ponds and lakes or a drive to the ocean attractive.
An old adage one regularly hears is: “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.” I ended my school year (and career as I am now retired) studying weather with my seventh grade. One of the weather terms we focused on is the “dew point.” The dew point is the temperature at which the air would be 100% saturated and rain would fall and at night dew forms. Meteorologists, when delivering the weather forecast, often report the dew point in the summer. The dew point is used to predict the low temperature for the night when forecasting weather.
Measuring the dew point is not as easy as looking at a thermometer to tell the temperature or a barometer to see what the air pressure is. Meteorologists use hygrometers or sling psychrometers, which are beyond what most of us have in our homes. In the winter, dew points are low, which is why many of us need hand cream/lotion and lip balm: the air is dry. In the summer, dew points can get into the 70s, which is more typical of tropical areas, and we feel uncomfortable. Sweat, which is our body’s primary cooling mechanism, does not evaporate from our skin quickly, and thus we feel hot and sticky, or muggy. For most of us, dew points above 60 start to feel uncomfortable. Summer thunderstorms bring temporary cooling by dropping the rain from the air and lower, often only temporarily lowering the dew point.
Who, or what, likes summer humidity? My wife, swimming pool owners, vegetable gardens, gray tree frogs (often heard in the evening and mistaken for birds), slugs, strawberry and blueberry crops, fireflies and butterflies.
For butterflies, the sunnier and hotter the better. Caterpillars that have been active in the spring form chrysalis, and when the butterflies emerge they get to work visiting flowers and looking for a mate. Some butterflies spend very little time in this adult stage (perhaps only a day or two); others, such as Monarchs, spend much longer as adults and even migrate south for the winter.
Just as there are breeding bird censuses in June, the North American Butterfly Association has a Fourth of July butterfly count that occurs throughout the United States, and there are similar efforts in Canada and Mexico. People that I tell, and friends I have roped into helping with this effort, often have an initial reaction of, “You’re doing what?” “Counting butterflies.” “But why?”
I have always thought butterflies were cool. Bright showy colors, flitting around and tough to catch if you are a bird, or with a net or camera for closer study. Here is the importance: Butterflies are pollinators, meaning as they flit from flower to flower, they are moving pollen and helping plants reproduce.
We all rely on plants, whether for oxygen, food or aesthetics (they can be pretty) and many plants rely on insects, including butterflies, to keep them going. Many types of insects, from ants to moths to beetles and, maybe most importantly, bees are pollinators. Plants rely on them, so indirectly we rely on them. By counting and tracking butterfly populations, scientists can draw parallels to insects in general. This can give us important information about the impact of changing weather and climate patterns, changing habitats and impacts of human activity. Plus it can be fun even a little bit of a competition between other count teams and against yourself to see this year’s versus past years’ totals.
Bird song begins to decrease in July. Robins, house wrens, red-eyed vireos and catbirds still sing, but most have quieted down, as their focus has changed from mate finding and nest building to incubating eggs and caring for newly hatched chicks. Some birds, such as American goldfinches and cedar waxwings, nest later into the summer, but most are May/June nesters. This means that bird watching can be slow at times, because just like humans, when there are new babies in the house (or nest) the adults stay home to care for them, temporarily slowing their social schedules.
One thing that has always amazed me about bird life is that the adult birds that migrate north to the tundra and forests of central and northern Canada to nest, begin to make the return migration, sometimes shortly after July 4th. Some of them stop in our area to bulk up on insects, berries and other food our area has been growing all spring and summer.
Featured Flora and Fauna
Mountain laurel (Kalmia latifolia). I don’t know about you, but I was struck by the beautiful display of mountain laurel flowers in the latter part of June and early July this year. Numerous people have commented in person or online forums about the beauty of this year’s blossoms. Mountain laurel is a native shrub (short – up to 10 feet tall, woody and multi-stemmed) living in local wooded areas where the conditions are favorable, often going unnoticed much of the year, sticking out when it blooms with bright white flowers, and in winter, when it stays green in the forest understory while most local trees and shrubs have lost their leaves. It is a “broad leafed” evergreen.
Most of our evergreens are pines and other conifers with needles, but mountain laurel has fairly wide, dark green leaves. The leaves are dark in order to better absorb the filtered sun that the taller oak, maple, ash and other trees let through. It is often used as a garland to decorate inside and outside homes around the December holidays. It is used as a landscape plant in many areas, but we are fortunate to have great wild stands of it throughout the Wachusett area. Another adaptation of mountain laurel is that it has “chemical toxins” in its leaves, and when eaten by many mammals, including white-tailed deer, the taste is unpleasant and can “burn” their mouths.
The beautiful white flowers are pollinated by insects. Bumblebees love it. Plants that have brightly colored and or odiferous (smelly, either good or bad) are pollinated by insects. Mountain laurel has evolved to have special stamens in the flowers as well as colors to guide in bees; these stamens are hard to see unless you are up close. The stamens are “spring loaded,” meaning folded down from the flower center, and when a bee visits the flower, they are set off, almost like a tiny mouse trap, and they brush against the bee when they snap, transferring pollen to the bee’s legs and wings. When the bee moves to the next flower or bush, it takes the pollen with it.
Another interesting thing that happens is that the flowers change color. This is not unique to mountain laurel, but after the individual flower is pollinated, it turns from almost pure white to a light pink. At this point its energy goes from showing off to attract insects and into forming seeds. Around July 4th the flowers begin to fall off, and in a year like this almost looks like snow underneath the plants. Moore State Park in Paxton is a great place to see mountain laurel, as well as another evergreen flowering shrub, wild rhododendron, sometimes called greater laurel. Moore State Park is famous for its rhododendron blooms, and annually attracts visitors and photographers in July. If you go, also take a walk in the meadow trails and you should see and hear bobolinks, a grassland bird that loves the fields there.
Last month’s featured fauna, sunfish, was the focus of a recent phone call from our son. He and his girlfriend were visiting friends who have three young children, and he asked if I thought they could catch some sunfish at Whitehall in Rutland State Park. I said of course, and I think and hope three more kids are hooked on fishing.
For us, July has been the start of bluefin tuna season the last few years. Our son went 30 miles east of Chatham this past weekend and saw tuna feeding among pods of humpback whales. They did not hook a tuna, but the whale and bird show was phenomenal. I hope to be on the next trip, perhaps toward the middle of the month.
Trekking 20-30 miles offshore may not be for everyone, but for those so inclined it is an amazing experience. Cape Cod and Gloucester have charter captains that make this their business, and it can make for the fish (and meal) of a lifetime.
