St Michaels Preserve, Hopewell, NJ
28 June 2026
WARNING: There are lots of spiders in this post. If that's not your thing, feel free to move along, but you'll miss the dragonflies.
(This post is out of chronological order, having jumped ahead of ten posts still waiting to be written.)
I retired on June 1. Sort of. I'm still going into work two days each week, easing myself out of there and into the free world. My HR profile says "retiree." It's weird. It doesn't feel real yet.
Maybe it's still too new, but I've had only minor flickers of anxiety over the prospect of unlimited free time. Once I'm cut loose entirely and winter sets in, it might be a different story.
Anyway, one of the things I wanted to do more of I now have time to do. There are so many open spaces in Mercer and Hunterdon Counties that I've biked through or past that I've never taken the time to get to know on foot. I've lived here for decades, yet I don't completely know the place.
Even my own yard is full of surprises. Some of them are poison ivy. Some of them are flowers planted two summers ago that are flourishing right now, despite the hot-cold-hot early spring that has demolished crops statewide. These are bee balm (Mondara) and coneflowers (Echinacea), and right now they're loaded with bumble bees, carpenter bees, tiny bee flies, and the occasional honey bee.
Last week, a handful of Free Wheelers set off for Croatia, a bike trip offered to the club members a year ago. When I read the brochure, I got as far as the exhorbitant price and stopped. I already had two vacations planned for this year, I didn't know whether or not I'd be employed long enough to reach my retirement qualification date (thanks, Republicans!), and I was weighted down by the prospect of being too slow for the group and on a bike that wouldn't fit my janky back. I let the cost of the trip do the heavy lifting; it was an easy no*.
So when my middle-school bestie said she'd be available to visit in mid-June, I was all for it. She's a naturalist. I visited her last fall. Now it was my turn to show her as much Garden State green stuff as I could pack into three days. While some were off visitng far-away places, I was going to dig deep into mine.
My friend arrived late Thursday night, and I showed her the spiders in my yard. Having just bought a new camera the week before, she was eager to put it through its paces in the dark. Hers is more of a point-and-shoot pocket camera, but it has a "microscope" setting with an LED and autofocus. Mine is a newish Nikon D5600 DSLR with a macro lens that's so old it has to be operated manually. I like that better; I can control what I'm focusing on. I call it the SpiderCam.
She wanted to see the Pinelands. I arranged a hike that Our Jeff led a few years ago, and he came along. We started at the Brendan Byrne State Forest Ranger's Station and took the Cranberry Trail to Pakim Pond.
I had three cameras with me: my phone, my Canon PowerShot, and SpiderCam. Being a naturalist, my friend stopped to photograph every plant she didn't know, and for any critter who happened to be on said plant or fence post. I hadn't been walking in the Pinelands in warm weather since grad school. I slid back into tick-avoidance mode: socks over long pants, tick repellent on my legs and bandanna, and sticking to the open trail.
I did stop for spiders. In the forest were species I don't see at home.
beats me, and iNaturalist is no help; it's a male
Nirene radiata
Platycarpus undatus
Hentzia mitrata
another Nirene radiata
My friend was pointing out wildflowers left and right. I have no recall ability for common plant names. They're all "sweet meadow" or "meadow beauty" or "sweet beauty" or "two-toed chicken's knapsack" or "false two-toed chicken's knapsack." That's why I stick to the Latin.
We reached Pakim Pond. I ended up not taking any pictures of the actual pond; instead, I found myself mucking about near the Cooper Branch, the stream that feeds into it.
But the PowerShot caught this one.
There were dragonflies zipping about the edge of the pond. I was fumbling with my cameras, trying to figure out which one to use. They'd land, but just for a few seconds. I'm used to using the DSLR at night, and bringing the camera to my eyes and the subject into focus was easy. But I had a macro lens. Anything farther away than a few feet would be tiny. The PowerShot is good for long distance and completely useless for macro. My phone can do macro and also zoom, but I discovered that I cannot easily find my subject resting on a twig ten feet away.
In the end, it was SpiderCam that captured the dragonflies best.
genus Libuella, not verified by iNaturalist
I didn't try to ID this one; not enough detail
My friend was excited to see this spotted turtle. I don't know from turtles.
Avert your eyes. It's damselfly porn. That's the female on the bottom, depositing eggs in the water.
genus Enallgama, not verified by iNaturalist
(maybe a "scarlet bluet?")
Plathemis lydia
We took the loop trail around the pond. We came across a bog filled with sundews as far as the eye could see.
These I remembered. Drosera intermedia.
Our Jeff was patient with us as we paused for the little things. Eventually we completed the loop and took a break under the pavilion at Pakim Pond. As we were talking, I noticed something moving on the adjacent picnic table.
Naphrys pulex
What I wanted was the iconic head-on shot that everyone sees of jumping spiders. This little fella would not cooperate. I gave up. My friend, whose camera is more compact, was able to get closer and coaxed the proper photo out of him. "Look at this little alien!" she exclaimed.
photo by treefrogjodi
We took the Batona Trail back to the parking lot. It was mostly upland, and included a few small rollers, which is what passes for a hill in the Pinelands. There was evidence of a fire: blackened tree trunks.
What we thought would be six miles turned out to be more than seven, according to my friend's pedometer. Before we left, I wanted to check the shed for spiders. We didn't find any.
The last thing I did was walk through six feet of unmowed grass to get back to the parking lot. And that's where I picked up the ticks. I found a dog tick exploring my leg as I took my hiking boots off. I flicked it away. I found a deer tick nymph running up my forearm shortly thereafter. I flicked it away. One never forgets what a deer tick nymph looks like, no matter how many years it's been.
The post-hike destination was the Vincentown Diner, which we reached around 3:00. "Now I have the tick creepy-crawlies," I said, as I brushed away a stray hair on my neck. Half an hour later, as I was halfway through my salad, I felt a tickle on the other side of my neck. I reached up and grabbed another deer tick nymph. I drowned it in the paper cup of salad dressing. (Hey, it's on par with the time I stuck a grad school classmate's unwanted tick in a bunsen burner flame, or the time our field station tech doused one in sulfuric acid, twice, because the first time didn't take. My love for arachnids does not include ticks.)
By the time we dropped Our Jeff off back at his house, got home, checked for ticks again (none), and showered, it was getting close to sunset. After dinner, I drove my friend over the I-295 bridge to the Yardley Park and Ride. I figured nobody would question a car there at 10:00 p.m. Plus, the 1799 House between the lot and the pedestrian path would be a good place to look for moths on our way back.
Past the house, though, was this sign:
When has a closed bridge stopped a Hill Slug? Besides, it was almost Saturday. We continued on. The walkway was open.
This hasn't been a good year for spiders. I'm not seeing as many in my yard as I have in the past. The ones I am finding are younger than they'd usually be at this time. I was hoping that we'd find something on the bridge. The last time I was here was in mid-summer, and the railings were teeming.
The approach ramp isn't lit the way the bridge railing is, and it's not as windy. Still, there were spiders.
Tetragnatha of some sort
Neoscona arabesca! Hooray!
Neoscona is my favorite genus because they're big,
and they don't care how close I get at night.
iNaturalist thinks this might be Araneus diadematus, but I don't.
Eustala, the palest I've ever found
another Tetragnatha
Larinioides cornutus
or as my friend and I call them,
"corn nuts."
Larinioides cornutus
the palest Larinioides sclopetarius I've ever seen
all those dots between the rails are spiders
There weren't as many spiders as the last time I was here, and the flood lights on the Delaware River Joint Toll Bridge Commission building were not looking like a haunted house.
But when I found my first adult Larinioides sclopetarius, I knew all was well. These are tied for first place with Neoscona because they also ignore me in the dark, and they are so pretty under the light of a camera flash.
Larinioides sclopetaruis centerfold shot
The railings were populated almost entirely, if not entirely, with Larinioides sclopetarius of all ages. The recessed lighting attracted flies by the hundreds. There were stoneflies and mayfiles galore. It was good eatin' on the I-295 bridge over the Delaware River.
there's good buggin' under the lights
nom nom nom
bug turducken
We were halfway across the bridge when a fellow in a day-glow yellow Delaware River Joint Toll Bridge Commission jacket lumbered over. I figured we were about to be kicked off, but instead he asked, "Looking for bugs?" Yeah, I guess two 60-year-old women with cameras don't pose much of a threat. He and my friend got into a long chat, him talking about his experiences fishing on the river below us. My friend was impressed with his deep knowledge of the local ecology. I tried to show him a photo of a spider, but he wasn't interested. He told us "Have a good night" and wandered off.
When we turned around, I started to look on the highway side, where glass barriers separate the pedestrians from the traffic. There were fewer spiders here, and they were smaller. This was the cheap real estate.
another blonde L sclopetarius
Six legs, just like Peachy
I found a couple more species on the leeward side of the ramp.
Lupettiana mordax
Metepeira labyrinthea
As I was walking down the ramp, I got a text from Heddy in Croatia. What was she doing up so early over there? Then I looked at the time on my phone. It was midnight here!
My friend and I puttered around the walls of 1799 House, which were floodlit. I found a giant wolf spider near the ground.
There was a smaller species on a nearby wall.
I spent a while trying to get a focused photo of a small, bashful spider on a railing. It looked familiar. Had I found a Ziggy, my favorite Bar Harbor spider?
Zygiella atrica?
When we got home, I made the mistake of joining my friend in uploading our photos. This is a vortex one should not be caught in past midnight. It was 2:00 a.m. when I finally climbed into bed.
Originally, I'd planned to take my friend into the Sourlands. But as I fell asleep, I was thinking about dragonflies.
So, when we finally got ourselves together the next morning, I proposed Rosedale Park, where we could walk around Rosedale Lake and Willow Pond, and I could show her the fields of wildflowers I'd stopped to photograph the week before.
From the road, it looked like a monoculture, but close up, we found a handful of species. She told me this would be a good place to look for Argiope in August.
At the edge of the meadow, we found some milkweed with monarch caterpillars on them.
We went over to the lake, where there was a long fishing platform.
There were a few dragonflies and damselflies darting about, but I didn't get any good pictures.
Pachydiplax longipennis
We reached Willow Pond and made our way to the water's edge. There were dragonflies everywhere, and not one would hold still long enough. These critters were trying my patience.
Perithemis tenera
I really wanted a good photo of a widow skimmer (Libellula luctuosa). They would not cooperate.
Dragonfly porn!
Erythemis simplicicollis
"kthanxbai"
Damn you, widow skimmer! Let me see your wings!
On our way back, we encountered a young nerd with a net and a mesh cage. He was out looking for butterflies and was disappointed. My friend was justifiably excited to meet this young naturalist. I was interested in what he had in the little cage: a widow skimmer that was sitting perfectly still.
We encountered a ground crab spider on the trail.
Xysticus, not verified by iNaturalist
In the early evening, I took my friend to Turtleback Park, which is a small patch of woods along the Little Shabakunk Creek, around the corner from my house.
There were lots of water striders and invasive plants.
Aquarius
When we got back to the house, my friend said, "I wanna take another look at your saints," by which she means all the glass scattered around my back yard. I took the time to pull out the vetch that is overtaking the ground cover on the side of my yard. I didn't finish, because she called out, "I found a spider," and we spent a good five minutes getting closeups of this poor creature. But hey, I got a head shot.
Tutelina elegans
My friend had to get so close with her camera that the spider reared up, its front legs out, in a defensive pose, and stayed that way for another five minutes while we investigated a beetle on the porch screen.
After dark, we went back out into the yard to check on my regulars, who are mostly still young and too tiny for her camera.
The next morning, we drove up to Hopewell, to Saint Michaels Farm Preserve. I wanted to show her The Awakening before we wandered the paths.
There was milkweed everywhere. I'd been trying to grow my own at home, first by scattering seeds all over the yard last fall, which didn't work, and now by acclimating seeds in a damp paper towel in the refrigerator and carefully planting them in peat pots. So far, nothing had germinated. Seeing this field made me feel a bit better about the fate of monarch butterflies.
And I waited patiently for this butterfly to settle on a flower and open its wings.
Cupido comyntas
We came upon a barn. Where there's a barn, there might be jumping spiders. We were not disappointed.
Platycarpus undatus
When I went around to enter the barn to find this spider on the other side, I apparently upset a couple of nesting barn swallows. The spider scooted back outside and I took a picture of one of the birds before leaving the barn.
The path we took from the barn sloped down to a small creek. As we looked at the water, a streak of iridescent green flew past. We had to get a closer look. We walked through some tall grass and something with little thorns, but it didn't matter. We stood on rocks in the water and waited.
A largedragonfly posed for me.
Plathemis lydia
I found a spider while I was waiting for the prize dragonfly to settle.
Dolomedes triton
Finally, it did. It was more blue than green from where I was standing. "It's an ebony jewelwing," my friend said.
Calopteryx maculata
These animals don't skimp on the color. I found a lavender one with a blue butt, apparently a male (because of the blue butt).
Argia fumipennis
How these guys don't snap in half I'll never know.
Argia moesta
Here's my friend in the creek, chasing dragonflies.
She needed to hit the road, a 4.5 hour drive back home, so we doubled back.
It was on the walk back to the car that I began to feel the sense of place I'd been seeking.
Milkweed!
After my friend left, I checked in on my milkweed peat pots. And there, in the center of one of them, was a seedling.
When Tom suggested a Wednesday morning retired guys bike ride, I made my apologies to Our Jeff and joined them. I told Our Jeff that I'd be alternating between his evening rides and the retired guys whenever a conflict arose. I had an ulterior motive, though, because Tom was starting from Etra Lake Park. Normally, I avoid rides that start there because it's such a pain to get to, but this time I packed the Canon and SpiderCam. In all my years as a Free Wheeler, I have not once gone to the edge of the lake for more than a quick photo through the trees from the parking lot. This time, after the ride, I went to the fishing spot on Etra Road and stepped out onto the mud.
Pachydiplax not verified by iNaturalist
Enallgama, not verified by iNaturalist
Enallgama, not verified by iNaturalist
Out on the water was a giant dragonfly. It rarely came close and it never stopped. I aimed SpiderCam at it and hoped for the best, winding up with a lot of photos of nothing at all. But one or two were almost in focus. Somehow, someone on iNaturalist knew what it was: a "prince baskettail," which has to be the best dragonfly name ever and also a D&D character.
Epitheca princeps
Pachydiplax
And, finally, after settling on a twig numerous times with its wings facing away from me, a widow skimmer posed and I got my sought-after photo.
Libellula luctuosa
Enallgama, not verified by iNaturalist
Enallgama getting it on:
I managed to get an amberwing in focus too.
Perithemis tenera
I went back to the lab to work for two days. It was stressful trying to cram everything into two days. I questioned my decision to remain a temporary hourly worker, but, hey, I could use the cash for my next vacation.
On my walk back to the car at the end of the day, I spotted what looked like a corn stalk in the middle of the native grasses that line the walkway. I doubled back to get a picture. I guess I'll have to keep working long enough to see if it produces an ear.
And now there wre three milkweed seedlings! (As I write this, two more have poked out.)
Yesterday wasn't a good day to be biking. There were showers in the forecast. It was the sort of day that looked as if it could rain at any minute. After a leisurely breakfast, I was too caffeinated to stay home, so I drove to Carson Road Woods to take a brisk walk. I left SpiderCam at home and regretted it the minute I came upon a milkweed laden with critters.
There was a crab spider:
There were several milkweed beetles and some sort of bug that matched:
Solanum carolinense
These guys are snazzy!
Propylea quatuordecimpunctata
(and yes, that long-ass word means "fourteen.")
There were lots of these butterflies, and one stood still for a moment:
Cercyonis pegala
I've biked through Carson Road Woods on the Lawrence-Hopewell Trail more times than I can count, and I've ridden my bike on Carson Road an order of magnitude more than that. But I've only walked in this park twice. The first time was when I was pressed for time, and I ended up bush-whacking my way back to my car because I could see it but not how to get there. This time, I had a map. But the only trail that was marked was blocked by several downed trees and looked as if it hadn't been maintained in years. The rest of the trails were mowed paths through meadows, and there were more mowings than what showed on my map. When I felt the first drops of rain, I decided I should cut my losses, follow the LHT, and walk on Carson Road for half a mile. I left the park determined to try again and get it right.
But at least I finally got some decent photos of those two chairs on what's probably a septic mound where the road bends.
We have a massive heat wave coming our way. I suspect I'll have time to write the other ten posts that were supposed to come before this one.
