Жара и засуха задерживают приход осени: пчелы не летают, а птицы ждут ягод

Fall is coming. I know because the Pyracantha berries are turning bright orange. The genus name Pyracantha, from Greek pyr "fire" and akanthos "thorn," means firethorn. The bright fruit of Pyracantha are classified as pomes, and these fruits persist significantly into winter which makes them a valuable bird food. Other signs of transition include the wild grapevines which have a yellow tinge to them, and the dried brown seed pods which hang heavy on the redbuds. Large seed heads hang heavy on the sunflowers, too. Here and there, along the woodland path, goldenrod bursts into bloom. Maples are showing early fall colors, and the black tupelo gum leaves are turning bright red. Swamp sunflowers (Helianthus angustifolius), a signature flower of fall, seem to grow a foot every day now. They will open in early September. Sages and salvias are blooming or will soon bloom too. Redneck Girl (Salvia madrensis), named for its red stem, features large panicles of butter-yellow flowers beginning in late September. Salvia 'Black and Blue' has been blooming since early July, and other salvias and sages are coming along nicely, thanks to irrigation. It’s been a really hot dry summer. The thermometer reads upper 80s before 10 a.m., but we are transitioning towards fall equinox. The sun lingers longer on the eastern horizon, with dawn coming later every morning, and dusk comes earlier too. I try to get my gardening finished before the temps rise, and I must take the late walk with the dogs by 7:30 p.m. so that darkness doesn’t catch me in the woods. Mornings are muggy, and evenings are subdued, often without any sounds other than the drone of an occasional locust or the low chirps of cardinals calling bedtime to their fledglings. The hummingbirds will soon migrate south. The feeders don’t require as many refills now, although the tiny hummers love to feast on the Turk’s Cap (Malvaviscus arboreus) sprawling across the flower bed behind the feeder. Turk’s Cap is a lovely native flower that is so easy to grow, and it commands most of the hummingbirds’ attention as summer wanes. Spiders seem to have set up sentry posts all around the yard. Every morning, the writing spider on the outside of my kitchen window gets larger. The writing spider, also known as the yellow garden spider (Argiope aurantia), is a large orb-weaving spider found in North and Central America, recognizable by its black and yellow markings and a distinctive zigzag pattern in the center of its circular web. These spiders are not aggressive and help control garden pests by catching insects like flies and mosquitoes in their webs. The yellow garden spider does not live in very dense clusters like other orb spiders such as the golden orb spider. The yellow garden spider keeps a clean orderly web compared to cluttered webs built by golden orb spiders. The golden silk orb weavers have spun their golden webs everywhere. They have very strong webs. The golden silk orb-weaver (Trichonephila clavipes) is a notable species of orb-weaving spider. It is primarily found in wooded areas and forests, ranging from the southern United States down to Argentina. This spider is recognized for its impressive golden silk. In fact, golden orb-weaver silk has been studied for potential applications in medical sutures and high-performance textiles due to its impressive durability. The female is large, but the tiny male hangs out at the edge of the web, almost as if he is hiding. Most of these spiders have spun their webs up high, where the morning sun highlights their golden threads. I’m careful walking around the yard with my morning coffee to watch for their webs at face level. I don’t see berries on the American Beautyberry (Callicarpa americana) this year. Extreme drought kept the spring flowers from setting berries. Beautyberry is reasonably drought tolerant. However, under extreme drought conditions, they drop berries in order to compensate for the lack of moisture. I will miss these lovely purple berries this fall. I also do not see many pollinators on my zinnia, lantana or Mexican sunflowers. On the first day of the Southeastern Pollinator Count, except for a few mating butterflies, even my lantana — always full of bees and wasps — is silent. In the vegetable garden, the sunflowers and gourd flowers — which have drawn numerous bees throughout normal summer days — currently lack bees. It’s too hot. Bees regulate their body temperature by evaporating water through their antennae and exoskeleton. When air temperature exceeds 90 degrees, this mechanism becomes less effective, leading to dehydration. As temperatures rise, honeybees spend more effort cooling their hives instead of pollinating. Heat tolerance in bees is compromised at high temperatures. Studies have shown that when exposed to temperatures above 104 degrees, bees’ enzyme activity slows down, impairing their ability to metabolize glucose and maintain energy levels. It’s difficult for them to fly, communicate and perform essential tasks like foraging. Bees can actually experience heat stroke. I am not surprised at the lack of pollinators this hot morning. Supposedly we are out of extreme drought. Everyone now hopes for a break in the extreme heat. May we be blessed with an early fall and a wet winter. I welcome an end to this long, dry, hot summer. As we transition to fall, may our gardens soon experience cooler moister days.