July 16

Warm evenings have intensified the mosquito hatch, brought from rains of a couple of weeks ago which filled the low areas enough to favor the larvae. The ecologist will argue the importance of this insect in the scheme of the food web, perhaps going so far as to postulate a possible keystone role; I am of two minds on this. The naturalist in me retreats in this discussion, and the selfish resident takes over. In short, I would eradicate mosquitoes for a week, were it in my power.

Fortunately, our evening denizens are at work. Just after supper, the dragon flies take to the yard by the dozens, flying in curious “Z” like patterns with repeats, at a height of ten feet or so. They remain for an hour or two, till the twilight descends, giving way to our more secretive crew.

We have several bats that live in the attic vents, easily visible in the daylight as brown balls of fur wedged tightly within. On the whole, they are quiet during the day, apart from a chittering sound when disturbed. At dusk, they emerge to hunt, and we enjoy watching them flap about, locating insects with sound and performing their acrobatic maneuvers to adjust their flight.

Just now the oaks are dropping leaves, sparsely so, to accommodate the loss of water transpired by the high heat. We find some on the ground with small, unfulfilled acorns, and this is particularly so if a wind storm has brought down any small branches with leaves. These acorns are our natural projectiles for playing with the bats.

We collect the acorns and wait until the bats fly overhead, then toss up a single nut high into the air. It is truly amazing to watch the passing bat abruptly change course, dive toward the falling acorn, perceiving it to be an insect. All this occurs in the stillness of the twilight, apart from the gentle flapping of its wings and the nearly silent clicks and squeaks of its radar.

Notes:

White meadowsweet in full bloom