Tribute to Miss Louise Hallberg

"Crummy pic. of  glorious little plant grown by Louise's mother.
I have had it forever - tough as nails and covered with flowers for a long time,"
says guest author of this post, Kathy Spalding.
She also shares that "Louise is my hero and I miss her everyday.
She's why I continue the fight."

Louise Hallberg had a funny effect on people. "She's so sweet!" gushed all who met the tiny old dear in the sun hat and butterfly-bedecked skirt. Luring one and all to her fairytale gardens with their overstuffed beds of blossoms, Miss Hallberg skillfully guided unsuspecting humans into her pollen-laden trap. Once captured, they would do the unthinkable: Serve insects.

Miss Hallberg was the Butterfly Lady, a fragile title for this powerful naturalist. Disarming everyone with smiles and chuckles, she was constantly learning, questioning, and observing right along with her visitors. She pursued answers with tireless drive, like a Monarch devouring milkweed. Or, more aptly, a Pipevine Swallowtail caterpillar eating Aristolochia californica.


Often her vision for the gardens made one question her sanity, but she would bring her seemingly crazy plans to fruition. A weedy slope became a wildlife paradise, a sterile patch a dragonfly-laden pond, a dull path transformed by a creek. (Yeah, Miss Hallberg had a creek installed. Who DOES that?)

While concentrating her efforts on her property, Miss Hallberg's labors extended far beyond its borders. Her work expanded our knowledge of habitat fragmentation and restoration, pesticide damage, and climate change. Her continuous value as an educator is incalculable.

On January 8, 2017, Miss Hallberg celebrated her 100th birthday (record-setting rain totals befitting a weather-reporter such as herself). "Keep the gardens going," she implored the celebrants filling Graton's Community Club. It's the least we can do and doesn't even begin to repay her tremendous contributions.

Miss Hallberg has shuffled off this mortal coil, but her work continues. The gardens' visitors have spread her vision like Pipevine, popping up as a garden here, a school program there. Many think of Miss Hallberg whenever we find a caterpillar, see a quail, or write a representative. She will certainly be on everyone's mind at this year's Open Gardens Celebration on June 25.


Want your own butterfly garden? Find out what butterflies live in your locale and grow their larval host plants. Add flowering native plants. Halt pesticide use. Then hold onto your sun hat, things are gonna get wild.

On February 25, 2017, Sonoma County lost one of its treasures when Miss Louise Hallberg passed. Even though we will miss her presence here in Sonoma County, Hallberg Butterfly Gardens remains vibrantly alive.

Vaux's Swifts, Sebastopol, California

Recently while enjoying Screamin' Mimi's ice cream with Kathy Spalding, our neighbor who we first met while walking our respective dogs and have over the years spent more time with, mentioned biking into Sebastopol each evening to count swifts. Both Dwight and I were so enthralled with her stories I thought perhaps you all would enjoy a guest blog post by her. As you read her informative and fun post

Perhaps you’ve seen the Vaux’s Swifts at Healdsburg’s Rio Lindo Academy during their autumn migration. Last year my pal Donna made the trip to enjoy the spectacle when someone mentioned the swifts on Sebastopol’s High Street.

You guessed it. Donna lives on High Street.

And so do the swifts, for a few weeks anyway. Since late August they’ve been dropping into the chimney of a private residence on Calder at High Street, but not before treating lucky on-lookers to jaw-dropping displays.

Around dusk, the swifts start out flying fairly high up in a loose group, in that seemingly effortless “twinkling” flight described in field guides. Gradually the group becomes denser, more organized, a feathery tornado not unlike a starling cloud.

On evenings when the numbers are high, the birds become a whirling cylinder. Flying at high rate of speed, the swifts create a whirring sound punctuated with the occasional tap of impact when wing meets wing. This cylinder of swifts takes position over the chimney. Then individuals peel away from the group and pour into the chimney. An onlooker described it as smoke in reverse.

Vaux’s Swifts are perfectly designed for what they do. Weighing in at 15 to 22 grams (equivalent to 3 or 4 quarters) with 12-inch wingspans, these wee birds cover huge distances, migrating as far as Canada to Venezuela. Each spends the day gorging on thousands of mosquitoes and other aerial arthropods. Mouth as wide as the face, maximizing food intake in flight, like baleen whales in the sky. Tiny feet sewn on sideways for grasping rough vertical surfaces. Spiked tailfeather tips for propping, much like a woodpecker. Flat forehead for an aerodynamic profile. Wings with short “arms” and long “fingers” for speedy flight. Vaux’s cousins the Common Swift, Apus apus, holds the level flight speed record at just under 70 miles per hour. (The peregrine has been clocked at higher diving speeds, but that’s working with gravity.)

Swifts resemble swallows, but they’re closest relatives are nightjars and hummingbirds, with whom they share the ability to enter torpor, dropping their body temperature to conserve energy. Other birds do this, but none as dramatically.

Aristotle theorized that some birds hibernated, burrowed in mud, to explain their absence in winter. The truth of migration is stranger still, but swifts raise the bar to an entirely new mind-blowing level. Few things are as aerial as swifts. Some species remain airborne for months at a stretch. Apus apus is said to spend the first three years of its life flying. Eating, mating, sleeping, it all takes place during flight. They even practice aerial roosting. They will ascend to a great height (and have been found at 10,000 feet) and use wind direction to orient themselves. Birds have been shown to shut down half their brains, which is thought to allow for sleep.

Vaux’s swifts used to rely on old-growth forests for nesting and roosting. With the thinning of snags and decimation of forests, swifts increasingly rely on chimneys. Due to earthquake and other concerns, swift-friendly chimneys are harder to find.

Not enough is known about these fascinating birds. To learn more, and to report your sightings, see www.vauxhappening.org/Vauxs_Happening_Home.html.