Caterpillars, Part II

Okay, back to our regularly scheduled programming - caterpillars! To see the explanation for all of this caterpillar imagery, SEE THIS POST. I plan on posting one more series of cool cats later.

A Drab Prominent (Misogada unicolor) on the underside of a sycamore leaf (Platanus occidentalis). It is an extreme specialist, eating only the foliage of this tree. The caterpillar is also a midrib mimic, with its white dorsal stripe similar to the midrib of the underside of a sycamore leaf. When not feeding, the caterpillar typically rests with its body aligned exactly with the midrib, as this one is doing.

A Hickory Tussock (Lophocampa caryae) under attack from a nymph soldier bug. The predatory insect will jab the caterpillar with its elongated proboscis and essentially suck the life from it. Predation rates in most caterpillar species are extreme, approaching 99% in some cases. This is why female moths often lay hundreds of eggs. It is necessary in order to get some of offspring through the predatorial gauntlet and to the reproductive stage. But this is also why caterpillars are such a major underpinning of food webs. I did not intervene in this case.

One of the more bizarre North American caterpillars, the Monkey Slug (Phobetron pithecium). It is said to mimic the look of a shed tarantula skin. Why would an insect mimic that, when tarantulas do not occur in its range? But the genus Phobetron is largely tropical and occurs where tarantulas are commonplace. And many of the migratory songbirds that might eat a Monkey Slug winter in such tropical regions. This theory also presumes that shed tarantula skins are not tasty and avoided by birds. Which they probably are.

Slug caterpillars sort of ooze along the foliage, courtesy of their sucker-like feet. Here's a Monkey Slug feeding/enveloping a leaf edge, as seen from below.

I've said this before (and probably will again) but most caterpillars are specialists, eating only a small suite of plants with which they have successfully coevolved. This one, the Moonseed Moth (Plusiodonta compressipalpis - now that's a multisyllabic mouthful!), is a hyper-specialist. It only eats the foliage of the moonseed vine (Menispermum canadense). The caterpillar is a wonderful bird dropping mimic, not an uncommon ploy in the caterpillar world. Apparently, nothing likes to eat bird droppings. If you believe in reincarnation, come back as a bird dropping if you don't want to be eaten.

This is an Ochre Dagger (Acronicta morula), a real gem of a larva. It is an elm specialist and the botanically savvy might note that this specimen is on a black walnut. That's because we, as I recall, found this one on the ground. No one could remember its host plant, and I wanted a shot of it on a plant, the walnut was handy, and Voila! Yet another inaccuracy on the interwebs. But we're here to admire the Ochre Dagger's good looks anyway, not floriferous backdrops.

The caterpillar of the Pawpaw Sphinx moth (Dolba hyloeus) is larval art. The caterpillar far outshines the large sphinx moth that it becomes (if all goes well). Another extreme specialist that only eats its namesake plant, Asimina triloba (Pawpaw).

A Red-washed Prominent caterpillar (Oedemasia semirufescens) noshes on a fairly fresh oak leaf. This species is a master of vegetative camouflage and a consummate leaf-edge mimic. When ensconced on autumnal foliage dappled with brown, necrotic patches, it can be nearly impossible to see, even though it is a sizable caterpillar. A great spot by the incredibly sharp-eyed and knowledgeable Norah Tempus.

A Sigmoid Prominent (Clostera albosigma) snacks on bigtooth aspen (Populus grandidentatus). It is a specialist on plants on the Salicaceae family, and mostly aspens and cottonwoods, although it is said to eat willow (also in this family). This was another great spot by Norah Tempus, on about the only aspen to be found where we were. It was a new caterpillar for me, and probably everyone else who was with us.

The utterly bizarre slug caterpillar of the Skiff Moth (Prolimacodes badia). It looks like a gall on a leaf. John Howard and I have often speculated that the small white dot on the lateral ridge not far up from the tail (the rear of the caterpillar is at the right) may mimic the egg case of a tachinid fly. Perhaps a female tachinid on the hunt would see such a mark on a potential victim and decide it already had been parasitized. Tachinid flies are parasitoids that lay eggs on caterpillar hosts (and many other insects). The larva soon hatches and bores into the caterpillar and commences to eat it alive from within. By the time the larva is ready to emerge, it can fill nearly the entire body cavity of the host. Needless to say, the caterpillar does not survive such an attack.

However, taking the wind out of that theoretical egg mimicry sail is the fact that a real tachinid fly egg case is right next to the "mimic" mark (just below and left). The fake egg case clearly did not deter this fly. The air exchange hole created by the fly grub within is just left of the apex of the center of the Skiff cat's body.

A truly amazing slug caterpillar (it's hard to avoid all of the superlatives when describing caterpillars) is this, the Spiny Oak Slug (Euclea delphinii). This is one of the less colorful forms. Some of them are clad in bright pigments of yellow, lime, red and orange.

The epithet of the scientific name, delphinii, bears mention as it is almost certainly a misnomer. I'm assuming delphinii is a reference to Delphinium, the genus of larkspurs. I'm about sure this caterpillar does not nor would eat larkspurs - Spiny Oak Slugs eat various woody plants, trees, primarily. Delphinium stems from Delphinus, Greek for dolphin. But I cannot see how anyone would be reminded of a dolphin when looking at this caterpillar.

Photography Workshop! September 20, at Dawes Arboretum

 I am flattered that people regularly ask me if I give photography workshops, which I only rarely do. Then when one looms on the horizon, I almost forget to plug it!

On Saturday, September 20 from 9 am till noon at Dawes Arboretum near Newark, Ohio, I'll be instructing on the art and science of plant photography, which of course includes many elements of macro photography. The first hour will be indoors, where I will present a PowerPoint - full of imagery, naturally - about shooting plants, and the animals that occur with them. Plant photography can be trickier than it might appear on its face, and I'll discuss various strategies of composition, apertures and bokeh, the use of flash, etc.

Following that, we'll head out onto the grounds near the Red Barn, which is a wilder part of the arboretum. Subjects will abound, and I am hopeful that we can locate goodies such as Bottle Gentian (Gentiana andrewsii). There will be lots of showy fall flora such as goldenrods and asters, and many pleasing autumnal scenes. I'd be highly surprised if we don't come across some really cool bugs as well, such as ambush bugs lurking in flowers or owlet caterpillars munching on goldenrods.

By the way, lest you fear missing an OSU Buckeyes game, there is no game on this Saturday.

I'd love to see you there, and JUST CLICK HERE to register.

Bottle Gentian (Gentiana andrewsii), a species that I am hopeful that we can drum up.

There will be a number of aster species in full flower to work with. This one is Shale-barrens Aster (Symphyotrichum oblongifolium), which doesn't occur natively at Dawes, but is commonly grown and present on the grounds.

Interesting bugs abound this time of year, and perhaps we'll encounter a Brown-hooded Owlet caterpillar like this one. It eats asters and goldenrods.

"Caterpillar Roundup" weekend

 

I made this iPhone snap last Saturday morning, as part of our crew puts the finishing touches on the caterpillar exhibit at the Arc of Appalachia's Forest Museum, in Highland County, Ohio, near Bainbridge.

At least ten years ago and probably longer ago than that, John Howard and I - as best that I can recall - began gathering a few larvally-minded friends to seek caterpillars in Adams and Scioto counties. We would choose somewhere around the first weekend in September, as that's when caterpillar diversity and biomass is at its peak.

Why? That's a legitimate question, with a multi-pronged answer. Foremost, caterpillars - the larval stage of butterflies and moths - are INCREDIBLY ecologically important. The lepidoptera is one of the world's largest orders of animals, and of their ranks, moths overwhelm butterflies in species diversity. In our part of the world, which is dominated by the Eastern Deciduous Forest ecosystem, moths, and to a far lesser extent, butterflies, play an incredibly important role in food webs, pollination, and the evolution of plants. Yet nearly no one is aware of this.

Two, as photographic fodder, caterpillars are hard to beat. Low-hanging fruit subjects such as deer, eagles, cranes, etc. are beat to death, in a way. There are scads of photos of such easily found fare and if you hit some popular Osprey nest or whatever, there's liable to be a crowd of people shooting the exact same thing. Nothing wrong with that, and I love shooting that stuff, too. But caterpillars, in all their magnificent photogenic glory, represent far more of a photographic wild west. I'll let the photos of various larvae in this post and following ones speak for themselves.

Three, there is the thrill of the hunt. Most caterpillars are far more active nocturnally, behavior no doubt driven by the legions of diurnal sharp-eyed birds that hunt them. A better than passing knowledge of botany is also an enormous asset, as most caterpillar species are tightly wedded to a small group of flora, sometimes only one species. So, one must venture out after nightfall, botanically interpret the habitats, and seek the larval game. We are greatly aided in this by the evolution of blacklight flashlights, which constantly get better - and less expensive. Many caterpillars fluoresce brightly under UV light, to the point that they look like they've been plugged into a light socket.

Several years ago, we switched our hunting grounds to the Arc of Appalachia properties in Highland County, which gave us access to their various lodging, and the Forest Museum as a base camp. That led to the creation of the Arc's Caterpillar Roundup, in which the public is invited in from 10am to 4pm on Saturday. Select species of larvae that our crew found the previous night is brought into the museum and exhibited on appropriate host plants. This year, nearly 150 people came and were exposed to the wonders and ecological importance of the tubular crowd. It's been wonderful, the addition of this educational element to our caterpillar-hunting safari. Visitors also have the added allure of hiking through some of the most gorgeous habitats to be found in Ohio, and some of those trails are right outside the museum.

NOTE: All caterpillars, following their public day in the sun, are released back into the wild, on appropriate host plants. No one dies, at least if we can help it (some caterpillars have been parasitized by flies or wasps, but those just provide more teachable moments). For their part, the captive cats normally just eat away, and produce prodigious quantities of frass. Frass is caterpillar poop: hard, dry little pellets of indigestible plant matter. Shauna Weyrauch had a great idea for next year: Collect all the frass pellets in a jar rather than brushing them into the waste bin. It'll be a big jar's worth, I am sure, as we normally exhibit dozens of caterpillars. And yet another teachable moment. Due to thousands upon thousands of caterpillars feeding in the woodlands, there is essentially a gentle fecal rain, and all those frass pellets go back into the soil as fertilizer.

PHOTO NOTES: My caterpillar rig is the Canon R5, Canon's 100mm f/2.8 macro lens, and that same company's MT-24EX twin lite flash system. The flashes have plastic diffusers to soften the light. I like the twin lites for their versatility, and because they have pre-lights. A half tap of the shutter button activates the soft pre-lights, which allow me to focus in complete darkness without the help of a flashlight. Settings, which I rarely deviate from, are f/16, ISO 200, and 1/200 second. The latter is the camera's flash sync speed, and it's plenty fast enough. The lens' excellent image stabilizer is activated, as I'm shooting handheld for most shots. When shooting detained livestock indoors, I sometimes deviate and do some work with no flash and even use a mini-tripod for some work. In those cases, I might go down to less than a second exposure time, as long as my subject is inert. While I am not generally a big flash fan, especially for subjects such as plants, with insects it can be very useful in creating sharper, more detailed images, especially at small apertures such as f/16. For nocturnal work such as shooting caterpillar in situ, flash is essential.

Okay, on to the rogue's gallery of caterpillars...

As always, click the image to enlarge

Two last instar Imperial Moth caterpillars (Eacles imperialis) nosh on White Pine (Pinus strobus). It was a rare opportunity to photograph both green and cinnamon forms together. Some of our people raise caterpillars and will bring livestock to ensure the public gets to see them in case we fail to find any in the wild. Mary Ann Maier brought these. The big silkmoth cats, like this species, are major crowd-pleasers. 

NOTE: "Instar" is the term for a stage of development in a caterpillar. They grow through molting, often five molts for larger species, and the stage between molts is an instar.

Another spectacular silkmoth, the Io Moth (Automeris io). I made this shot indoors, using a mini-tripod for stabilization. Settings were f/11, ISO 400, and 1/6 second exposure with no flash. The cat never budged so a ridiculously slow shutter speed was possible. Note the showy fascicles of spines on the cat. Brush them, and it feels like you rubbed up against a powerful stinging nettle. Best not to handle caterpillars with spines, especially if you don't know what they are.

A Crowned Slug (Isa textula) ensconced on an oak leaf. Small but extraordinary, the creature looks like it came off a coral reef. The slug moth caterpillars are a bizarre lot, and always a hit among caterpillar hunters.

We were indeed pleased to see, and have the opportunity to photograph, this little gem. It's the caterpillar of a butterfly, too, while the overwhelming majority of species in this series of posts are moths. John Howard had found it the preceding day and brought it back for everyone to see.

It is a Juniper Hairstreak (Callophrys gryneus), an extreme specialist. The cats, at least in our part of the world, eat only Red Cedar (Juniperus virginiana). The caterpillar is also a great example of botanical mimicry, as they match the cedar needles to a remarkable degree, both in color and form.

A larger-scale view of the hairstreak cat. They can be quite difficult to spot when ensconced deep among the needles.

This one could win a larval beauty pageant and is always high on our wish list. It is a Honey Locust Moth caterpillar (Syssphinx bicolor) and it is well named. I have only seen the caterpillars feeding on Honey Locust (Gleditsia triacanthos) although I have seen reports of it feeding on the closely allied Kentucky Coffee Tree (Gymnocladus dioicus).

An American Dagger caterpillar (Acronicta americana). It has just shed, and the yellower molt to the right is the cast-off skin of the previous instar. American Daggers are polyphagous, easting scores of different plant species, and are often one of the most common caterpillars that we find on nocturnal forays. I would note that polyphagous (many plants) diets are not the norm in the caterpillar world, specialization is.

The caterpillar of a Dot-lined White (Artace cribaria) becomes one with the branch that it's on. This is botanical mimicry writ large, although perhaps in this case it is lichen mimicry. I would note that iNaturalist's amazing identification app, when confronted with photos of this caterpillar, invariably only suggests various lichens as possibilities. I sometimes wonder how many of these we walk right past.

The stunning Radcliffe's Dagger caterpillar (Acronicta radcliffei) with its incredible bulbous black and red head. This species is a specialist on woody plants in the rose family (Rosaceae), particularly cherries. I think this one was found on a Black Cherry (Prunus serotina). Even though it isn't thought to be rare, I believe this was only the second one I've seen. We sometimes wonder if various caterpillar species, maybe this one included, occur primarily in the canopies of the trees in which they feed, out of view of ground-bound humans.

Always a coveted find, the Saddleback Caterpillar (Acharea stimulea). It isn't rare, in part because the caterpillars are polyphagous and can consume a large number of common plant species. Nonetheless, this must be a boom year for them, as our group must have found two dozen or so, far more than would be usual.

Note those fascicles of stiff spines. Some say that this species may have the most punishing sting of any North American caterpillar, and people with greater sensitivity to its venom can react very badly. They are envenomating spines. When triggered by touch, the spine injects venom from a sac at is base, much like a hypodermic syringe. I am told that the pain comes instantly, it is fierce and lasts for some time. Newbies, upon first seeing a Saddleback, usually call it cute. That they are, but potentially painfully cute.

That's it for now, but more cats are to follow...

Scores of hummingbirds in a fen meadow

 

A stunning western Ohio fen, as seen early this morning. I came here seeking to photograph a small suite of interesting species, but my ambitions got hijacked by scores of charismatic Ruby-throated Hummingbirds.

PHOTO NOTES: I took this image and the next with my iPhone 16. This in spite of having my backpack loaded with my Canon 16-35mm f/4 wide-angle lens. Call me lazy, but I was also carrying a Gitzo tripod/Wemberley head combo on this two-mile trek, mounted to the Canon R5 and 800mm f/5.6 lens and that collective unit is a tank. Sometimes it's just easier to pull the phone out, and it performs pretty well in challenging light (I'm facing the sun).

A closer view of an especially floriferous patch of fen meadow. The entire opening is only about 1.8 acres, but the botanical diversity is incredible. There are many rare species, for Ohio, including much of the goldenrod in this image, which is Ohio Goldenrod (Solidago ohioensis). There's also plenty of Obedient-plant (Physostegia virginiana) in the picture.

Earlier in the week, I had found what I think is a Badger den in this general area, so I was keeping my eye on that area. The beautiful Grass-of-parnassus (Parnassia glauca) was also nearing peak bloom, and I had just discovered there is an oligolectic (specialist) bee that uses that: the Parnassia Bee (Andrena parnassiae). So, those two items were high on my list for today's mission.

However, as soon as I entered the fen proper via its encircling boardwalk, it quickly became apparent that the place was awash in Ruby-throated Hummingbirds (Archilochus colubris). I had certainly noticed them on my previous visit, several days earlier, but had stayed on point and focused on botanical imagery. Besides, I did not have a large lens with me, so it was easier to ignore the sprites. This time, I was armed for bear, so to speak, with the aforementioned monster lens. I also had the Canon 600 speedlite and Better Beamer flash extender, as paying great attention to the hummingbirds was high on my list today.

The female above is guarding her flower patch, which was mostly Spotted Jewelweed (Impatiens capensis). If an interloper entered her turf, the chase was on. I estimated that about two dozen hummingbirds were present, and skirmishes were frequent. In fact, one of the "problems" with trying to shoot these birds in such a hummingbird-rich environment is the likelihood of your subject suddenly getting run off by another bird. That happened to me multiple times today.

There are lush stands of Obedient-plant in this meadow, and that's the plant that I really wanted to photograph a hummingbird visiting. The hummers really go for the stuff, and I saw several birds visiting flowers, but never when I was in a position to make a shot. I even staked out plants that were beautifully situated for photos, for quite a while, but of course no birds visited during those times.

A female Ruby-throated Hummingbird prepares to tap nectar from a truly elegant native thistle, Swamp Thistle (Cirsium muticum). Overall, this is not a common Ohio plant, as it is not only an obligate of wetlands (we have managed to destroy over 90% of those in the Buckeye State), but it favors high-quality wetlands such as this fen. The large purple flower heads are held five or six feet in the air, and act as beacons to the nectar-hungry hummers.

As an aside, native thistles are extraordinarily attractive visually, and to pollinators. Because of their often-thorny armature, thistles apparently have been largely shunned by the nursery trade. That, and unwarranted guilt by association with nasty nonnatives such as Canada and Bull thistles. Swamp Thistle would be the one to peddle. It is very light on prickles, and in my view, the showiest of our five native species.

Unlike the preceding plants, this one is abundant and widespread: Spotted Jewelweed (Impatiens capensis). It occurs statewide, in every county, and is a fixture along waterways and wet areas. Jewelweed loves springy places, and the verges of the fen meadow have robust colonies. It was this plant that the hummingbirds most coveted, and every patch was diligently guarded.

PHOTO NOTE: I made this image with my 800mm lens. I'm a big fan of using telephotos for plants, and the bigger the lens, the better. Look how it just crushed the bokeh into a beautiful creamy brown blur. I shot this photo wide open, at f/5.6. How I wish a hummingbird would have visited when I was set up like this, but alas, none did even though I stayed there for some time.

A young male (judging by that red gorget feather) guards his patch of jewelweed. This section of the boardwalk had numerous jewelweed patches, and all of them were under guard by different hummingbirds. Kind of like gang members protecting their turf.

Another young male (I think) approaches some jewelweed flowers. Sometimes I could see four or five birds hitting jewelweed from one spot.

This plant is sold by some native plant nurseries, and if you get it going in the yard, I guarantee that any hummingbird in the neighborhood will be over for a visit. It is an annual, but self-seeds prolifically (the seeds taste like walnuts) and as long as it doesn't get crowded out, it should perpetuate itself. There is another native Impatiens, the Pale Jewelweed (I. pallida) with light yellow flowers. Hummingbirds also visit that, but it doesn't seem to be quite the hit that Spotted Jewelweed is.

Peregrine Falcon makes kill!

 

As always, click the photo to enlarge

A Peregrine Falcon with a freshly hit Red-winged Blackbird. I would say "freshly killed", but as the falcon whacked it just seconds before I made this image, the bloody songbird might still be alive. Although I suspect the incredible impact of the strike killed it outright.

I went up to Hoover Reservoir in nearby Delaware County (Ohio) at first light on August 27 to take advantage of a beautifully sunny morning. I had tucked myself and the photo rig into some shoreline vegetation and was mostly shooting birds in flight in the perfect early morning light: terns, various shorebirds, cormorants and other waterbirds, an unseasonal Redhead, and others.

There was a small flock of Red-winged Blackbirds in the cottonwoods behind me, but that was mostly subliminal background noise. Suddenly, I heard/felt a loud WHOOSH!, and the entire atmosphere instantly changed. This falcon had shot over my head at warp speed, only about 20 feet up, in hot pursuit of the soon-to-be victim. While I stared slack-jawed, it hit the bird maybe 40-50 feet out and directly in front of me. Fortunately, I reacted in time to get on the falcon with my camera before the raptor disappeared with its meal. So intent was the falcon on its prey that I doubt it even noticed me when it shot over, probably in the triple digits in miles per hour. After the hit, and the prey was secured, the falcon turned right to the camera as if to say, "did you get that, ground-bound biped?"

I've had many memorable experiences with Peregrines over the years, but this was probably the second coolest, and the best for kill photos. The first best peregrine encounter happened years ago, before my hardcore photography days. I was walking a dike surrounding the wide-open wetlands of Ottawa National Wildlife Refuge on Lake Erie. It was fall, and scores of migrant sandpipers were resting and refueling on mudflats. I was stopped, scoping a flock of waders. Suddenly a hunting peregrine shot by at kneecap level probably ten feet from me and likely moving at triple digit speeds. It had employed a tactic known as contour-hunting – using obstructions to shield itself from prey until the last possible moment. I was the obstruction, apparently. As soon as the falcon passed me it was into a large flock of shorebirds and pandemonium ensued. It carved a sandpiper from the flock, and after a short aerial pursuit, caught it.

New article about the recovery of bobcats in Ohio

The current issue of Barn Raiser magazine features an excellent article about the return of bobcats to Ohio. Written by Stephanie Woodard - with great photos by Joe Zummo - it features the work of Ohio State University conservation biologist Shauna Weyrauch, as well as that of the Ohio Wildlife Center.

CLICK HERE to read the story.

Cross-vine flowers in the backyard!

 

As always, click the photo to enlarge

A wooden post on the pergola on my backyard patio is enwrapped with Cross-vine (Bignonia capreolata), a high-climbing vine in the largely tropical Bignoniaceae Family. The only other member of the family that makes it as far north as Ohio is the far more common and widespread Trumpet-creeper (Campsis radicans). It grows copiously on two other posts of this pergola. But the Cross-vine barely enters Ohio from the south. In large part it only occurs in the tier of counties that buffer the Ohio River, and most plants that I have seen are in sight of the big river, with the hills of either Kentucky or West Virginia on the other side, depending on where you are.

A few years ago, I asked John Howard if he might get me a few cuttings of Cross-vine. John lives in Adams County, in the heart of Cross-vine country in Ohio. Sure enough, John came through as he always does, and soon after receiving the material I stuck the cuttings in the ground. Nothing much showed last year, but this year the vine began its ascent of the pergola post - exactly what I was hoping it would do - and now it has reached the top of the pergola.

A few days ago, I noticed buds on the Cross-vine, down low, near the ground. Today, two of them popped open, with a third flower soon to follow. You can see them in the preceding image, near the base of the post on its right side.

This flowering time is strange, as Cross-vine normally blooms in spring: April and May. Perhaps part of the plant got accidentally clipped or damaged, and that spurred the flowers. Whatever the case, I am hopeful that this vine will continue to flourish and start flowering in spring, as it should.

The colorful tubular flowers of Cross-vine are pollinated by Ruby-throated Hummingbirds and are irresistible to the elfin birds. The much more copious Trumpeter-creeper on my pergola is heavily bedecked with flowers, and hummingbirds make constant visits.  I recently posted about that, RIGHT HERE.

I can think of no better use for this pergola than as a framework for interesting vines. It is well-built and fairly large, and up until this year, had a loose fabric covering over the top. I removed that as my Trumpet-creeper vines flourished and reached the top latticework of the pergola. I want it to eventually become a living roof, and now it looks like I might have Cross-vine as part of that green roof.

Bumblebee buzz-pollinating Wild Senna

 

Bee sure to turn your volume up!

A short video of bumblebees buzz-pollinating my Wild Senna (Senna hebecarpa) this morning. Buzz pollination, or sonification, is essential for the extraction of pollen in certain groups of plants, including some pea family members like the senna, blueberries, potatoes and tomatoes. In buzz pollinated plants, the pollen is held tightly in specially shaped anthers. Slits in the anther are not large enough for pollen-seeking insects to access and thus access the reward within. However, vibration at a certain frequency releases the pollen through those same pores. The bumblebee takes some of the nutrient-rich pollen to eat. Other harvested pollen is made into a rich paste to feed the larvae within their nests. Along the way, the uber-fuzzy insects deposit pollen on the reproductive parts of other senna plants. Worthington, Ohio.

Ruby-throated Hummingbirds and Trumpet-creeper

 

My large mass of Trumpet-creeper (Campsis radicans) in my backyard. It is an irresistible magnet for hummers.

I was able to work with the Ruby-throated Hummingbirds that constantly visit my snarled lianas of Trumpet-creeper (Campsis radicans) today. I put an iPhone photo of that floriferous mass here, along with two images of the hummingbirds (at least two visit routinely). A nectaring bird will often sit on the flower lip and plunge its body deep into the corolla tube.

The hummers also perch on the flowers and flycatch from them. Trumpet-creeper is heavily beset with extrafloral nectaries that produce sugary secretions, and these lure an abundance of ants, and other small insects such as bees and wasps. Thus, the plant not only provides an abundance of regular flower nectar for the hummers, it also provides ample protein in the form of small insects.

I know some people shy away from this tropical-looking species (most of the plants in the Bignoniaceae family ARE tropical) because it can be unruly, but any hummingbird enthusiasts would do well to plant some Trumpet-creeper.

Moths/all things nocturnal night: Clear Creek Metro Park, next Saturday evening, August 23.

Moth/Caterpillar/Everything Nocturnal prowl: Next Saturday night, August 23, in the heart of Clear Creek Metro Park in Hocking County. This will be a fun, productive nocturnal foray. Chelsea Gottfried, coauthor of the new book Gardening for Moths, kicks things off with a lushly illustrated PowerPoint presentation on moths, followed by mothing at various light stations. Jim McCormac and Clear Creek naturalist Katie Bennett, along with Chelsea, will help in searching for interesting creatures of the night and we should see many. This has been an amazing year for caterpillars, and we'll be seeking those with blacklight flashlights.

The fun starts at 7:30 pm, and all of the details are RIGHT HERE.

The following images were made last Saturday night (8/16) at a nocturnal event at the amazing Scioto Gardens native plant nursery in Delaware County. The diversity of critters there was incredible, and I'll hope to write more about that experience later. This offers a wee sampling of the sorts of creatures that we'll find at the Clear Creek event this Saturday.

Carolina Sphinx (Manduca sexta)

Spicebush Swallowtail caterpillar (Papilio troilus)

Gray Furcula caterpillar (Furcula cinerea)

White-banded Crab Spider (Misumenoides formosipes)

Waning Gibbous Moon

 

The moon, in its first day of its waning gibbous phase. As always, click the photo to enlarge.

August 9th (2025) marked the most recent full moon. It was spectacular, and clear skies showed it nicely. I remarked to Shauna that we should attempt to create images of it the following night. In preparation, I did a bit of searching for moon photography articles and learned something new. Apparently it is better to shoot the moon either the day prior to the full moon (waxing gibbous phase) or the day after, when these shots were made. Increased shadowing around the moon's edge better highlights craters and other features of the lunar landscape. You'll see that, especially if you click on an image to enlarge it. When the moon is completely full, it will look largely white and featureless - something I have noticed from past full moon shoots.

A tighter shot of the moon in all its glory. Around here, we're just as likely to have cloudy skies during interesting celestial phenomena, if not more likely. But two totally clear skies in a row made for great moon watching, and photography.

To make these shots, I used my Canon R5 (I still have my trusty 5D IV but haven't touched it since I went mirrorless), and the Canon 800mm f/5.6 lens. That rig weighs a LOT, so needless to say it was mounted to my Gitzo tripod/Wemberley head. My settings were f/16, ISO 4000, at 1/125 second exposure. You don't want to go much if any slower than that shutter speed, as the moon is moving and with too slow a shutter speed it won't be tack sharp.

To prevent any motion blur on my end, I used the camera's 2-second delay feature so that there would not be even the slightest motion caused by me pressing the shutter. I could have used the 10-second delay, but that would have been overkill. Likewise, I could have plugged in a remote shutter release cord, but the timer is easier and the end result is the same. I found that underexposing one-third of a stop retained more of the moon's orangish cast, and I did very little to these images in post-processing other than crop.

Finally, to better zoom in on an object that is nearly 239,000 miles away, I resorted to my rarely used Canon 2x extender. That makes the lens 1600mm millimeters. When shooting relatively stable objects like this, where one can use all the tactics to prevent motion blur as described above, the 2x works well. While I use the 1.4x extender all of the time, the 2x isn't nearly as user-friendly for active wildlife of the sort that I often shoot. But for celestial objects, it works great.

A wide-ranging discussion on the Backyard Ecology podcast

Back on July 16, I was interviewed for the wonderful Backyard Ecology podcast by host Shannon Trimboli. She and her husband Anthony started the podcast several years ago and have interviewed a wide range of experts on various subjects.

The primary topic of discussion for my appearance was moths, based on the book Gardening for Moths, authored by Chelsea Gottfried and myself and released in 2023. But we ranged far and wide, in addition to making the case why moths are so vital. If you would like to check it out, CLICK HERE.

Primrose Moth

 

A Common Evening-primrose (Oenothera biennis) in full bloom. The common - some might say "weedy" - native plant is incredibly showy and comes with the added allure of playing host for one of our coolest moths.

I've written about the Primrose Moth (Schinia florida) before, but it's been a while. As it's always a red-letter day when one finds this moth, which I recently did, I must share the experience here.

Probably all species of our native flora play host to caterpillars, the overwhelming majority of which are moth larvae. To take Ohio as a point of reference, about 170 species of butterflies have been recorded. And that includes great rarities and one-off records of vagrants. But there are many thousands of moth species. No one knows exactly how many, indeed, probably no one even has a good handle on how many moth species there might be in the state. One of Ohio's premier moth experts, Diana Platco Brooks, has identified nearly 1,500 species on her 12.5-acre property in southeastern Ohio over the last 15 years or so. Such butterfly to moth ratios probably applies nearly everywhere in eastern North America.

While some moths are generalists, their caterpillars consuming a wide variety of plant species (polyphagous), the great majority tilt towards specialization. The latter might consume members of one family of plants, one genus, or even one species. The caterpillar in the image above is the larva of this post's protagonist, the Primrose Moth. Insofar as I know, it feeds only on primrose in the genus Oenothera, and I have only seen it on Common Evening-primrose (Oenothera biennis).

I was down in Cullowhee, North Carolina recently to attend the amazing Cullowhee Native Plant Conference. It has been going on for about four decades and attracts something like 500 attendees. If you get the opportunity to go, do it. As a bonus, some of the richest biological diversity in eastern North America surrounds the conference site. Insofar as I can ascertain, North Carolina, with its nearly 4,000 native plant species, hosts greater botanical diversity than any state east of the Mississippi River. And all that plant diversity means enormous animal diversity, not the least of which are moths.

Ah! The pink and yellow end of some magical creature protrudes from the closing flower of a primrose. 

In my plenary talk at the Cullowhee conference, which was on moths (based loosely on THIS BOOK), I had worked in the Primrose Moth for the first time in this presentation (which I have given scores of times). So maybe, courtesy of the moth gods, this was karmic payback for plugging the little gem.

There was no way that I was going to enter such a floriferous land and not do some heavy botanizing, and Shauna and I spent two hardcore days exploring the mountains near Cullowhee. At one point, near an overlook along the Blue Ridge Parkway, I noticed a large stand of Common Evening-primrose. Dozens of plants, and the flowers still mostly open as it was mid-morning. So off I set, carefully searching the dozens of plants for the moth above. Finally, with only a few plants left to inspect, Bingo!

We carefully held back a petal to better expose the stunning little moth. After the photo session, we pushed the petal back into place. This was only the third or fourth time that I've found the Primrose Moth, and trust me, I've looked at scads of flowers.

So, if you find yourself around a flowering stand of Common Evening-primrose, and time permits, take a look around and you might be rewarded with one of our most magical moths.