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How to freeze your rockfish

We baked a whole, handsomely fat, 34-inch rockfish in a Cuban barbeque box (lacajachina.com) for my middle son’s college graduation. It was delicious. The remarkable thing about that treat was not that the dish came out so well (the barbeque box is simple to use) but that the fish had been stored in the freezer since the middle of last season. It tasted almost fresh-caught.
    Years past, I experienced much disappointment in freezing fish for longer than one or two months. Fish frozen for longer sometimes resulted in strong-tasting and stronger-smelling dinners.
    The difference is that vacuum-packing machines are much better at eliminating all air from the package; contemporary plastic bags also seem to be more durable and puncture-proof. Allowing any air to reach the fish during storage is a sure way to ruin its table quality.
    Preparing whole fish for freezing is a fairly simple affair. The fish should immediately be immersed in ice (but not ice water) after catching. As soon as practicable, it should be thoroughly scaled, eviscerated and the gills and all traces of organs removed. This includes scraping the backbone and inside of the head of all dark meat.
    The fish should then be thoroughly rinsed and dried. Finally rub it, inside and out, with olive oil. The coating of oil further protects the fish from air and allows it to slide into the ­vacuum bags without difficulty.
    Be careful to prevent the many sharp spines of the fish’s fins from puncturing the plastic bag during processing and storage. If the fish is moved at all within the freezer to access other foods, it should be
re-examined for vacuum failure.
    Now vacuum pack and store each fish individually in the freezer — not stacked together — to minimize freezing time.
    Freezing rockfish fillets is even simpler. Again, ice the fish immediately after catching. Fillet and skin as soon as possible. Remove the dark lateral line by incising along each side at a sharp angle, pulling that meat away and discarding. The dark meat is strong tasting, and that taste only gets stronger and migrates to the rest of the fillet over time in storage. The dark meat section is also where toxins tend to concentrate.
    Using the vacuum packer as before, process the flat fillets in quantities that are convenient to use all at once.
    If you don’t have a vacuum machine, fillets can be frozen almost as effectively by placing the pieces in appropriately sized heavy-duty zipper-locking freezer bags and adding water. Wrap the bags tightly against the fish, force out all the air and as much water as possible, seal and place them individually in the freezer. The added water insures that no air will reach the fish during storage.
    Maintaining a cold — at least zero-degree — freezer is also essential to long-term storage. Above that, bacteria can emerge and eventually cause unwanted flavor changes. Commercial fish storage is generally maintained at minus-20 degrees, but a household fridge may not be able to reach that temperature. Use an aftermarket temperature gauge and the lowest possible freezer setting for best results.
    I routinely can keep vacuum-packaged whole and filleted fish up to a year and water-filled frozen fillets up to six months without risking culinary disappointment. However, if the integrity of the vacuum sealing has been compromised during storage, there are only two remedies: thaw and cook the fish immediately or redo the packaging. Attempts to repair holes in the bags with tape or glue inevitably result in poor table quality.

Flowers, Vegetables and Grasses for Fall and Winter

Growing plants keeps your soil alive and well all year long.
    In the flower garden, plant annuals and perennials close together. The tops of perennials die back to the ground in fall and winter, but perennial roots stay active as long as soil temperatures are above freezing.
    Add cold-weather annuals such as pansies, sweet William, ornamental cabbage and kale to fading perennials to give life and color to the winter garden. They will also absorb nutrients already in the soil.
    Pansies provide a wide range of color and will bloom off and on all winter. Come spring, they will produce an abundance of blooms in late April lasting through May. Sweet William is bi-annual. If you plant it this fall, it will flower well in the coming spring and even more profusely in the spring of 2016.
    Caution: Rabbits love pansies. If you have rabbits, scatter mothballs under the leaves. If you have children, wrap the mothballs loosely in aluminum foil and cover them with a thin layer of mulch.
    In the vegetable garden, broccoli, cabbage and collard greens, kale and turnips are colorful, hardy and harvestable through much of winter.
    A green alternative is a soil-covering crop of winter rye. Winter rye grows a lush green carpet of grass. The perfect scavenger crop, rye grows roots deep in the soil, absorbing nutrients not utilized by the previous plants and protecting groundwater. On the surface, rye prevents your soil from being washed away by heavy rains or winds.

Bulbs Planted Now Bring Spring Rewards

    Bulbs planted in October and November go to work now. In fall, they root quickly and absorb residual nutrients from the soil. In spring, they bring the garden to life.
    Plant tulip, narcissus or daffodils, hyacinths and crocus bulbs in October and November for April bursts of color.
    Plant garlic and long-day onions for spring and summer harvest.

Flowering Bulbs
    For flowering bulbs, dig deep. Excavate an area 12 inches deep and at least 12 inches wide. Add a four-inch-thick layer of equal parts by volume soil from your hole and good compost. Do not put sand under the bulbs.
    Place bulbs at least one inch apart on top of the blended soil with the flat side of the bulb against the wall of the hole. Planting this way will direct leaves to bend outward, giving the planting a more appealing appearance. Place a single bulb in the center. Cover the bulbs with eight inches of blended topsoil and compost.
    Don’t use a bulb-planting tool, which makes holes too shallow and compresses the soil along the walls of the hole, especially if the soil contains large amounts of silt or clay.
    Blend equal parts compost and topsoil and layer the soil four inches thick across the bottom of the hole before planting. Position the bulbs upright for uniform blooming in the first year. The compost will supply all of the nutrient needs through the first growing season.
    Narcissus … daffodils … or jonquils. Whatever you call them, these spring plants are perennials in Southern Maryland gladly blooming year after year. Plant now and you’ll have yellow blooms bursting through melting snow.
    Plant your daffodils deep and you can also plant hyacinth, crocus and more seasonal flowers above the daffodil bulbs without fear of damaging the bulbs with digging tools.
    Tulips are often an annual crop in Chesapeake gardens, as our warm springs disagree with them.
    Unlike daffodils and hyacinths, tulips produce a new mother bulb each year, plus possibly a few daughter bulbs. Because our springs are short — before long, hot summers — tulip foliage does not last long enough to build a new bulb equal to or larger than the original. The Netherlands and more northern states like Michigan enjoy optimum tulip climate: cool springs that last for several weeks.
    To get your tulips to flower more than one year, plant them by mid-October in a well-drained location in full sun. Early planting assures that the bulbs develop a large root system before soils cool with the arrival of winter.
    If you want your tulip bed to last many years, choose yellow tulips, which, for some unknown reason, perform better and last longer than red, white or pink cultivars.
    Caution: Deer love tulips; don’t plant them if deer visit.

Onions and Garlic
    Garlic bulbs can be planted from early September until mid November. The plants need time to produce visible foliage before the ground freezes.
    Select a location in your garden that will receive maximum sunlight. Garlic planted in partial shade will not produce fully developed bulbs.
    Garlic grows best in well-drained soils rich in organic matter. To meet the organic requirements, spread about two inches of compost over the soil and spade or rototill as deeply as possible.
    A soil test will tell you your pH and how to achieve the garlic ideal of near 6.5.
    Plant each clove, pointed side up, in holes four inches deep and four inches apart in rows 10 inches apart.
    Just before the ground freezes in December, mulch with a one-inch layer of compost.
    Next spring, water thoroughly at least twice weekly. In May, cut the flowers just below the swollen part of the stem as they form so as to maximize the size of the bulbs.
    Just as soon as the leaves start to turn brown in early summer, dig using a forked garden spade to minimize damage to the bulbs.
    The short days of fall and winter are beloved by short-day onions. A short-day onion variety will form a bulb only when the days are short. Begin planting any time now so the plants become well established before the ground freezes. To give them the organic matter they want, amend your soil with an inch or two of compost prior to planting.
    After the ground freezes in winter, mulch the onions again one to two inches deep to help prevent the frost from pushing the onions out of the ground with repeated freezing and thawing.
    As soon as the plants resume growth in the spring, apply a water-soluble fertilizer to stimulate early active growth.
    Harvest begins in June.

Catch Phytophtora quick and save the plant

A Bay Weekly reader recently complained that her magnificent large rhododendron was dying after it had produced a super abundance of blooms this spring. After examining the plants closely, I knew that the cause of death was Phytophtora cactorum. This disease is often the primary cause for rhododendron dieback. It kills the plants starting at the ends of the branches, and works its way down the stem. If you can prune out the dying branches as soon as you spot it, you can often salvage the plant.
    To identify the disease, look for chestnut-brown sunken cankers surrounding the stem immediately beneath the wilting flower. The stem just beneath the wilted flower or seed head will be green, but the lower part of that stem, where it had grown from the previous year’s stem, will be chestnut brown. You will note that the diseased stem originated near the stem that flowered the previous year.
    The disease-causing fungi entered the stem as the old flowers wilted and dropped. Sometimes one or two branches are first affected. When this occurs, prune away the branch as close to the main stem as possible, sterilizing your pruners with rubbing alcohol between each cut. To prevent the disease from spreading, spray the plants with a mild fungicide such as Phaltan or Captan as the blossoms begin to wilt. However, fungicides are only a temporary protection.  
    The occurrence of this disease has been associated with low levels of magnesium in the soil. If you have rhododendrons that exhibit any signs of dieback, I strongly recommend you have the soil tested.
    When taking soil samples from around shallow-rooted plants such as azaleas and rhododendrons, only sample from the upper three inches of soil. Ninety percent of roots from shallow-rooted species grow in that layer. Soil samples should be taken between the drip line of the branches and the trunk of the plant. Scrape away mulch before sampling.
    Where this disease has been a problem, I recommend applying Epsom salts at the rate of one-half cup dissolved in two gallons of water and applied over 100 square feet. Apply every spring just before the plants start blooming.
    To my knowledge, there are no rhododendron varieties that are immune to this disease. The best protection is frequent inspection of the new stems, pruning out diseased branches using sterile pruners, spraying infected plants as the blossoms are wilting and falling and proper nutrition following soil testing by a reputable lab such as A&L Eastern Agricultural Lab.


Ask Dr. Gouin your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

The best time to fish is when they’re biting

The forecast called for rain, but the weather people had proven so inaccurate the last few weeks that we gave the pronouncement little notice. We promised that if Saturday morning broke with anything close to moderate air we were heading out, as we did.
    My buddy and I had also decided to leave the rockfish to the weekenders. A few barely legal stripers were not what we were looking for. We yearned for some sustained pole bending.
    I’d been given a heads-up on good white perch action on the edge of a not-too-distant river channel, and we decided to try that. Perch this year have been surprisingly absent, at least for us. Almost all of our usually reliable spots have been empty of fish of any size.
    We started off working the river shoreline, throwing Rooster Tails and Capt. Bert’s Perch Pounder spinner baits in the shallows, around erosion jetties, docks and next to flooded phragmites, areas that had always been hangouts of at least a few 11-inch blackbacks. We scored exactly one nine-inch perch in an hour.
    Unsurprised we headed out for the deeper channel waters and reached for the worms. Reciting a silent prayer to the fish gods and rigging with top and bottom rigs and flashy size 2 red nickel bait holder hooks, we added an ounce of lead, threaded on generous pieces of worm, and dropped them over the side.
    Our skiff was pushed slowly along the channel edge by a gentle breeze and a barely moving tide. Our rods bent over almost into the water as both of us cranked up double headers of white perch.
    Dropping our rigs back over resulted again in instantly bent rods, again loaded with double headers. Then again and yet again it happened. Our faces were beaming; we were apparently right in the middle of the meat bucket. The now heavily clouded skies could not dampen the glow of great action.
    When a light mist began, we hardly noticed. Though the whities were on the small side and we had lots of throwbacks, the action was non-stop. Gradually our cooler accumulated a few nice keepers.
    The rain soon got steadier and heavier. But with fishing like that, we donned our foul-weather gear and soldiered on. We weren’t sure when the winds would return or these perch would vanish, so we were taking no chances. The best time to fish is when they’re biting.
    The bite stayed red-hot. Even as it poured down hard, we remained enthusiastic. Our count was well past 100 and our hands were sore and torn from the many gill plate cuts and fin spikes in handling the wriggling devils when we at last exhausted our bait supply.
    Later that evening, after a long, hot shower and a glass of brandy, I reflected on the success of the trip, describing to my wife the mad fishing action and the endless downpour.
    She merely nodded her head. When I asked if she thought we were crazy, my spouse replied, “Why no dear, why in the world would anyone think that?”

Southern migration underway

Say good-bye to an osprey — if you can find one. My neighborhood nests are all empty and their eerie whistle waded into memory.
    Beginning in mid-August, the fish hawks left their summer homes all along the Eastern seaboard for winter grounds in the Caribbean, Central and South America.
    Where osprey go we know from the work of osprey followers like Rob Bierregaard, who has tagged with transmitters birds all along the coast.
    Migration of his tagged birds began on August 14, one day short of the earliest migration date.
    Snowy, the first to head south, “was a bird on a mission,” Bierregaard writes. “She arrived back at her wintering area in northern Cuba just eight days after she left her staging area in Long Island.”
    Not all migrating osprey make a beeline. Many circle and dally for weeks at good fishing grounds.
    Doing things “the normal way” was Crabby, a young female osprey tagged by Bierregaard.
    “From Kent Island in Chesapeake Bay, she started south on August 25 at 10:55am,” he wrote. “She spent her first night at Kerr Lake on the Virginia-North Carolina border. Next stop was the Congaree Swamp just north of Lake Marion in South Carolina. She blew through Georgia and spent the night of the 28th in northern Florida and made it to the Everglades in southern Florida on the 29th.
    “That was the last we’ve heard from her, but this is pretty typical of our cell-tower birds. From here on, they can make it to South America without being near a cell tower (the only way we hear from them). We’ve had birds that we last heard from on the eastern coast of the U.S. in the fall only to have them show up again the next spring. But we’ve also had a remarkable number of cell-tower birds find towers in Haiti and down deep in South America.”
    Learn about migrating osprey and follow the migration at www.ospreytrax.com.

You never know what’s going to happen on the Chesapeake

I had done well on my last three sorties. Now my first bite came in less than a minute.
    I had hooked a frisky spot of about four inches just in front of the dorsal with a size-4 black nickel treble hook and sent it over the side. It headed straight down to the Bay Bridge piling I had selected.
    A strong fish took the bait as it neared bottom. Setting the hook,    I felt immediate resistance, a strong headshake, then nothing. I reeled my line back and found that I had lost my spot. Hook, leader and swivel had been cut off cleanly as well.
    Either a toothy bluefish had hit the swivel when the fish I hooked started its struggle. Or the striper had run to some kind of bottom structure immediately after taking my spot and fouled my line on something sharp. I opened a fresh pack of trebles, red nickel models, bent one onto a section of fresh 20-pound fluorocarbon leader and replaced the lost swivel connection.
    I had been experimenting with these rather small treble hooks for a couple weeks, finding that they were excellent at mouth-hooking the rockfish eating my live spot baits. I could come tight much sooner than when using J hooks.
    Over the next three hours, however, my bait count got ever lower as I released spot after spot that had become exhausted swimming down in the varying currents. I couldn’t find a rockfish of any size to take my bait.
    Heading to the Eastern Shore, I redoubled my efforts. Drifting and fishing a wide area, I marked few fish but garnered nothing.
    Skunked, I headed back toward the Sandy Point ramps and home. As I passed by the previously unproductive bridge supports on the western side, I decided on one last try. I had just three baits remaining.

Back to Go
    Amazingly, with the first drop at the support where I had started the day, I was quickly fast to a strong, fat and healthy 25-inch rockfish. Netting and burying that fish in ice and with renewed optimism, I prepared to hook my next-to-last bait and send it down.
    At the last moment, that little fish squirmed in reaction to the prick of my treble and squirted out of my hand and over the side. Now I had the last bait at the last moment, back at the same place I started out. This was going to be very poetic or a major disappointment.
    I took extra care with this bait, then flipped it out next to the concrete pier. As it swam down toward the bottom I could feel it spurt ahead in panic. Something was chasing it already.
    The fish below quickly engulfed my bait and started running. I set the hook, and a very careful battle ensued.
    The fight went my way. Eventually easing the net under a powerful 24 incher, I was relieved to have limited out. But when I pried open the rockfish’s mouth to remove my hook, I noticed something odd. My red treble hook was stuck firmly in the corner of its jaw, just as I expected, but on the other side of its mouth was another embedded treble, a black one.
    It was my original hook cut off on that fish I lost, still attached to the leader and swivel.
    You never know what will happen on the Chesapeake.

Mountain laurel, blueberries and other acid-lovers, too

September is the best time of the year to transplant azaleas, rhododendrons, mountain laurel, andromeda, blueberries and other plants that thrive in acid soils. This is because these species have stopped growing new stems and leaves and are starting to generate and elongate roots.
    So take advantage of fall garden center sales. If your existing plantings are too dense or wrongly placed, now is a good time to dig and transplant.
    Here’s how to assure success in transplanting plants that prefer acid soils.
    First, make certain that the soil you will be transplanting into is adequate.  Acid soils are generally deficient in calcium and magnesium, but only a soil test of the area will correctly identify soil conditions. Each soil test should be made from a composite of five or more core samples. I rely on A&L Eastern Agricultural Laboratories in Richmond for all of my soil testing. 
    Plants like these also need well-drained, high-organic soils. Even if the soil test indicates an ample amount of calcium, I make it a regular practice to mix one-half cup gypsum (calcium sulfate) to the planting soil. To assure an abundance of organic matter, I also blend one-third by volume of compost or pine fines with the existing soil while blending the gypsum with the backfill. Compost adds not only organic matter but also slow-release nutrients.
    Never amend the soil with peat moss, especially when transplanting rhododendrons. Peat moss holds too much water, making conditions favorable for water-borne fungi that attack the roots of rhododendrons.
    All species that grow in acid soils are shallow-rooted. So never dig the planting hole deeper than the depth of the root ball. There is no need to place compost or back-fill under the root ball because of the shallow-rooting nature of these species.
    If you are digging plants that need more space to grow, the outside edge of the root ball you are digging should begin mid-distance between the drip line of the branches and the stem of the plant. If the soil is dry, irrigate the plant well at least two days before you dig.
    After digging, lift the plant by the root ball and not by the stem. If you are transplanting container-grown plants, after removing the plant from the container, use a sharp knife and slash the outside edge of the root ball an inch deep from top to bottom making the slashes two to three inches apart. Since most container plants are grown in soilless rooting media, slashing the root balls and pulling out some of the roots will hasten new root development.
    The top of the root ball should be visible at the surface of the finished grade. Before mulching, water the plants thoroughly to settle the backfill around the roots and eliminate air pockets. A good heavy watering helps to firm the soil in place.
    Apply no more than one inch of compost or pine bark mulch. Never use hardwood bark mulch because it is basic in nature and contains high levels of manganese.
    Azaleas, rhododendrons, mountain laurel, andromeda, blueberries and other acid-lovers will tolerate light to medium shade, but they will produce more flowers and be more cold-tolerant in full sun. In commercial nurseries, all of these species are grown in open fields and sometimes covered with light shade in late fall simply to give the plants a better appearance for sale in the spring.


Ask Dr. Gouin your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

It’s a little late to start seeds but just right to plant seedlings

The best sauerkraut is made from fall-grown cabbage. The best kale and collards have been frosted a few times, growing sweeter with each frost. Fall-grown spinach and lettuce are more tender. Carrots, beets, turnips, rutabaga and kohlrabi are at their best when grown in late summer and harvested in the fall. Both cauliflower and broccoli form tighter heads in fall than in spring. I also harvest many more fall peas than spring peas. If you love Brussels sprouts as much as I do, you must get them started now to harvest a bountiful supply.
    There is more gardening ahead, and now is the time to start sowing seeds. If you planted onions this past spring, they should all be harvested by now — as well as the cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower and spinach. So you now have room to start planting your fall crops.
    I have stopped planting peas in the spring because I can make many more harvests from peas planted in August. The cooler fall temperatures promote continuous growth until the killing frost comes late in fall. Spring-planted peas stop producing pods as soon as the heat comes on.
    August is also a good time to make a planting or two of snap beans. If you make two consecutive plantings about two to three weeks apart, you will be harvesting snap beans until the frost kills the plants.
    If you sowed your seeds of broccoli, cauliflower, kohlrabi, Brussels sprouts and cabbage the first week of August, the plants will be ready to be transplanted into rows by the end of the month. Seeds of spinach, lettuce, kale, collards, turnips and rutabaga should have been sown by mid August. To grow the sweetest carrots this side of heaven, the seeds should also have been planted before the middle of August, as should a row of beets for greens as well as for the sweetest roots.
    If you haven’t started your seeds, check the garden centers for seedlings of these cool-weather crops.
    Your soil most likely still holds a plentiful supply of nutrients not utilized by the remaining summer crops. Since the soil is warm, the compost you added to the garden is also releasing nutrients. A fall crop allows you to maximize the uptake of the nutrients already added as well as those released during the decomposition of organic matter.
    If you are not going to plant a fall crop, sow a cover crop of winter rye to absorb all of those free nutrients into their roots and stems. Next spring when you plow the rye back into the ground, the nutrients will be there for that crop.


Ask Dr. Gouin your questions at DR.FRGouin@gmail.com. Please include your name and address.

What kind of doublespeak is that?

Sometimes I feel heartfelt compassion for the very difficult job of Maryland Department of Natural Resources. Many citizens and not just a few commercial entities demand endless access to the resources of the Chesapeake, while the wise conservation and management of these resources are the sole responsibility of DNR.
    The blue crab is one such resource. One of the more desired, the more profitable and most celebrated of the Bay’s treasures, it has also been over the last 20 years or so one of the Bay’s species most often in trouble. I sympathize with the pressures the Department has to constantly endure in attempting to protect the crustacean from over harvest and depredation.
    Then, DNR destroys my empathy with pronouncements that seem to defy credibility, common sense and logic.
    On a recent occasion, officials stated for the record on a local radio program and in a subsequent newspaper article that any form of moratorium would cause the species more harm than good.
    That ranks up there with the Department’s earlier statement “crabbing harvests remain at a safe level for the sixth consecutive year,” while revealing the blue crab population had plunged 70 percent also during that period.
    Is that not doublespeak? DNR’s own safe harvest levels imply proper population protection that has obviously not been happening. In the case of “more harm than good,” how can not killing some 30,000 pounds of crabs hurt the overall population?
    Unlike the successful rockfish moratorium, a crab moratorium wouldn’t work for several reasons, according to DNR: the short life of crabs (three years or so); the diminishing fertility of females over time; and the increased natural mortality of cannabilistic crabs when the population is dense. DNR also cites the economic harm to Maryland’s blue crab industry.
    I can understand the Department’s reluctance. Every cutback affects the livelihoods of not only 4,000-plus watermen but also the bottom line of many restaurants and seafood markets. But don’t try to tell me that continuing to kill off a resource is really helping it.
    I can understand unpredictable natural mortality and how cold-weather kills and how poor recruitment causes unanticipated short-range population swings. But to continue to allow optimistically calculated harvest levels year after year while that population free falls defies common sense.
    The near future looks grim for the blue crab. Local crabbers report very difficult catches, fewer and smaller crabs and a continuing dearth of females, indicating more population trouble for the future. This assessment is not scientific, but it seems to reflect reality better than anything coming out of Annapolis.
    I respectfully request the Department reconsider its basic resource philosophy because whatever we have been doing is not working.
    Insisting on species health and abundance above all seems wiser and more realistic than any maximum-sustainable harvest policy by any name.
    Paying closer attention to the recommendations of scientists from Bay conservation foundations could also be wise, as they are free from most political and commercial manipulations.
    That is if Maryland officials are committed to the conservation of the blue crab and share the belief that a consistently large and healthy population will naturally result in a flourishing commercial fishery, a satisfied recreational sector and a happy consuming public.
    If, on the other hand, our representatives are primarily committed to short-term commercial-industry stability — fulfilling market and political demands — then we’re on the right track.

Disquise and foul odor protect this butterfly

    Caterpillar Survival Rule No. 1: Be disagreeable.
    Eurytides Marcellus, the Zebra Swallowtail, a striking butterfly in classic black and white, is Calvert County’s official butterfly. Whether chosen for its instantly recognizable good looks, for its clever defensive tactics or both, the Zebra’s admirers must decide; details of the mascotorial appointment are lost to history.
    Moving across the landscape in aerial scout fashion, the Zebra seldom settles for long. It lights near edges of puddles or ponds and favors zinnias, summer phlox and butterfly weed.
    The larva feed on foliage of the pawpaw, the American banana, a shrub or small tree once plentiful in the understory of hardwood forests. Smooth and light-green, the larva’s bulbous head and oversized eyespots imitate a snake. If disguise isn’t sufficient, when disturbed it flashes a bright orange, forked apparent tongue that emits a foul odor. This cunning caterpillar has Rule No. 1 covered.
    There is no chasing a scout on the wing, so I was pleased to snap this photo of the Zebra in refueling mode.
    Does anyone besides me see Lewis Carroll’s hookah-smoking caterpillar? Or a dark-coifed fairy in zebra-striped wings?