Black Witch spawned in Ohio!

Black Witch moths, Ascalapha odorata, draw attention wherever they occur. Even in the core of their range, which extends from Brazil north to south Texas and Florida, they seldom fail to elicit a reaction. These giants of the Noctuid Family can have a wingspan that reaches seven inches. They're the size of bats, and when one turns up under the eaves, people notice.

Black Witches are well known for their northward wandering. Individuals routinely move far north of their regular haunts, but extralimital records become increasingly scarce as one moves northward. Still, a few are found in Canada every year, and the record for the northernmost Black Witch comes from Churchill, Manitoba on Hudson Bay - the Polar Bear capital of the world. These large moths are obviously powerful flyers, and can  cover a lot of ground, fast. Sometimes large movements are associated with severe storms such as hurricanes. In July 2003, hundreds if not thousands of Black Witches were observed making landfall in coastal Texas after apparently crossing the Gulf of Mexico, pushed by the hurricane.

Here in Ohio, near the northern limits of their wanderings, the Black Witch is a great rarity and they are nor reported every season. This year has been exceptional, though - I think I've heard about five or six records. But the one reported below takes the cake.

 Photo: Omar Baldridge

I received this photo and two others courtesy of Omar Baldridge of Wheelersburg, Ohio, which is in Scioto County along the Ohio River. He stepped outside his house on the evening of October 5th, and was stunned to find this behemoth of a moth on his porch. When I saw Omar's photos, I was equally stunned, in part because it was a Black Witch, but even more so because the animal was obviously freshly emerged from its cocoon and hadn't even finished fully expanding its wings.

Given the juvenile condition of the moth, it had to have been spawned locally - very locally. Insofar as I am aware, there are no breeding records of Black Witch north of Texas. I sent the photos along to Dave Horn, OSU entomologist and president of the Ohio Lepidopterists, and he checked with Black Witch expert Mike Quinn of Austin, Texas (see Mike's comprehensive Black Witch website HERE). He didn't know of any reproduction records anywhere near this far north, but did mention that lepidopterist Steve Passoa once caught a female Black Witch in Columbus, Ohio, and was able to induce it to produce eggs.

As most of the northern records seem to be females, and given that these moths can probably reach Ohio in fairly short order, I suppose it shouldn't be utterly unexpected that this tropical moth could reproduce here.

Photo: Omar Baldridge

As the night wore on, the moth's wings increasingly expanded and gained form. Note the beautiful violaceous tint to the underwings. I've seen a number of Black Witches, but never the underwings. When fully mature, these moths always perch with wings spread on a flat plane with only the dorsal (top) surfaces visible. CLICK HERE for photos of another Ohio record of Black Witch that show the moth in typical repose.

Host plants for the Black Witch are woody plants in the Fabaceae, or Legume Family. Potential candidates that occur in Ohio are Kentucky Coffee Tree, Gymnocladus dioicus, Black Locust, Robinia pseudoacacia, and... the Mimosa Tree, Albizia julibrissin. The latter is native to parts of Asia, but is commonly planted in the U.S. and does well in southern Ohio. While I couldn't find a record of Mimosa Tree as a host for Black Witch, they are documented from another species of Albizia, A. lebbeck.

I asked Omar if any of these trees occurred in the vicinity of his house. His reply: "...we do have a rather large Mimosa tree in our front yard (the photos were taken on my front porch)". Hmmm... One does have to wonder if a gravid female Black Witch dumped her eggs on this Mimosa Tree, and at least one of those eggs made it through the caterpillar and cocoon stage, and thus led to the newly emerged Black Witch on Omar's porch.

Thanks to Omar for finding and documenting a spectacular record, and also for sharing his photos with us.

Black Witch in Ohio!

A Black Witch, Ascalapha odorata, rests on the hand of your narrator, the latter appendage offering a size scale for the enormous moth. Note the moth's beautifully intricate patterning and subtle lavender shading. Hints of gold and blue dot the wings. It truly is an impressive insect.

Dimensionally, this tropical vagrant to Ohio and northerly latitudes is the largest moth species that we get. The resident Cecropia Moth, Hyalophora cecropia, might edge it slightly in terms of weight, but when it comes to sheer size nothing beats one of these spectacular witches. Females are slightly larger than males, and can have a wingspan of seven inches.

The Black Witch perches on a raceme of ripe Pokeberry fruit. It is a male - females have a broad whitish band running across each wing.

A Facebook acquaintance, Kim McCoy, posted photos of this insect on October 5. It turned up on the side of her father's Fayette County house, and she went over to see it and remove the moth for eventual release. I asked if I could photograph it, and she gave it to me.

Opportunities to photograph Black Witches in Ohio are few and far between. And all that I have seen - and photographed - have been females, so this was an easy opportunity to make photos of a boy.

The Black Witch peers over a corymb of White Snakeroot flowers. Their size and appearance can lend a spooky look, to those predisposed to believe that moths and other insects can be "spooky". And many people do. Their are a number of myths about Black Witches, which are sometimes known as Mariposa de la Muerte - "Butterfly of Death". Legend has it that if a witch flies into the casa of someone who is ill, that person will soon die.

To people of my ilk, finding a Black Witch is a wonderful and fortuitous event.

A New England Aster provides a perch for the moth. Today's temps are expected to reach the 70's F, and I'll let it go this afternoon. The core range of the Black Witch is from the southernmost U.S. - I have seen many in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas - south into South America and Brazil. I'd be amazed if any of these northern vagrants ever make it back down that way, though.

And "vagrant" is probably not an accurate descriptor. That implies that the moths are idly wandering. I doubt that's what's happening, from a long-term population perspective. Black Witches are powerful flyers, and increasing numbers seem to be peregrinating far to the north of their "normal" range. In the long term, this is how species expand ranges - by sending scouts far into the hinterlands. Most will probably perish, but over time if climate and habitat shift to better accommodate their needs, the scouts will discover new opportunities and establish new colonies. Indeed, this happened with the Black Witch in Ohio in 2012 when Omar Baldridge discovered a newly eclosed Black Witch on a Mimosa tree, Albizia julibrissin, in their yard in Scioto County. Read about that RIGHT HERE.

Mimosa is an Asian tree commonly in cultivation, and increasing as a "wild" escapee, but they provide suitable fodder for Black Witch caterpillars. Natives that this moth will use as hosts include Black Locust, Robinia pseudoacacia, and Kentucky Coffee Tree, Gymnocladus dioicus. The former is abundant statewide and the latter is locally common. I think we'll likely see this huge moth increasingly reproducing itself in Ohio and other northerly locales. It is the perfect entomological organism for rapid range expansion, and its common host plants provide ample opportunities.

Like the moth it becomes, the Black Witch caterpillar is a gargantuan larva. I made this image last year. A Black Witch had shown up in Columbus, and it turned out to be a gravid female. I and nearly two hundred other people were at Mothapalooza, but as luck would have it, the moth turned up at Don Tumblin's daughter Lacey's house. Don was at Mothapalooza, enticed Lacey to drive the moth down from her Columbus home, and the entire crowd got to see the witch. It was a very cool event. You can see the actual moth HERE.

That moth was a female and full of eggs. A number of eggs were extracted from her before she was released. I'm sure she deposited her remaining eggs on some suitable host plant up this way. Kim Baker took some of the eggs and successfully reared at least one. This caterpillar is one of the spawn from her batch of eggs. If you ever come into close proximity to one munching away on a locust or coffee tree, you probably won't miss it, and you're even less likely to miss the moth should you be fortunate to have one appear under your night light.. 

Black Witches in Ohio!

 

This post dives a bit deeper into this amazing moth than did the last post.

A female Black Witch (Ascalapha odorata) perches on the foliage of Chestnut Oak (Quercus prinus) deep in Shawnee State Forest, Scioto County, Ohio. This is the largest moth, by dimensions, that occurs in Ohio and similar latitudes. The witch in my photo was shot where it was found near a mothing station that was part of Mothapalooza, on July 17, 2026. Amazingly, a sharp young attendee, Yann, found this one off in the woods, some distance from the illuminated sheets that most of us were inspecting for easier moth fare. A truly great find.

This Black Witch turned up Friday night - a truly epic night for mothing - and amazingly, another turned up a few miles away the same evening, at a mothing station at the Shawnee State Park Lodge. Diana Malas later contacted me to tell about yet another witch that appeared at her house in Dayton. Amazing! Three witches in one day, in Ohio! One must wonder how many that were out there went unreported.

Female Black Witches can have a wingspan approaching 9.5 inches, which is utterly huge for an insect (males are somewhat smaller). The only regularly occurring moth in the Midwest that rivals that is the Cecropia Moth (Hyalophora cecropia). It may outweigh - slightly - a Black Witch but falls short in the wingspan department.

The Black Witch is a tropical species, and the Rio Grande Valley of Texas and the southernmost reaches of some of the Gulf states is as far north as it typically reproduces and occurs in any numbers. But this species is a powerful flyer and well known for its northward wanderings. I believe they are becoming more frequent northward. Following are the iNaturalist records for Ohio for the last decade:

2026 - 12 (so far, there will likely be more to come)
2025 - 13
2024 - 8
2023 - 5
2022 - 7
2021 - 6
2020 - 5
2019 - 5
2018 - 2
2017 - 1

Going back further in the iNat database reveals very few sightings, with no records for many of the preceding years. While a more in-depth analysis of Black Witch records over a broader region would provide a more robust data set to document increases, I think that the Ohio data shows a clear trend in increased sightings in the last decade or so.

Keep your eyes open for Black Witches (they are usually hard to hard to miss). It'll be interesting to watch the continued increase in this species in the north, and to see if they eventually start reproducing regularly at this latitude. The caterpillars feed on various members of the pea family (Fabaceae), including Black Locust (Robinia pseudoacacia) and Kentucky Coffee Tree (Gymnocladus dioicus). The latter is very common statewide, and the former is less common and more range-restricted but is being increasingly used as a landscape tree. They also use various mimosa trees such as Silk Tree (Albizia julibrissin), and some mimosa species may be becoming more frequent in plantings in the north.

If you search "Black Witch" in the search box in the upper lefthand corner of this blog, you'll see other posts about them from years past, including some that have photos of the huge, spectacular caterpillars.

Black Witch

This is just too cool not to share lickety-split, so here it is - the most amazing moth one could hope for in Ohio. Sort of like finding a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

Photo by Greg Raterman

Moth expert Greg Raterman was baiting nocturnal leps last night in Pickaway County, when this gorgeous monstrosity appeared. Black Witch, Ascalapha odorata! As far as I know, this is the biggest moth to be found north of Mexico, and they are true showstoppers.

I can only imagine Greg's surprise when he checked his moth-baiting operation and found this beast. Like most Black Witches that turn up far to the north of where they ought to be, this one is a female, which has the prominent white scalloped line across the wings. The Black Witch occurs in parts of the Caribbean, and throughout Mexico and Central America and south into South America. They are major rarities this far north, and one shows up in Ohio every few years, perhaps.

Photo by Greg Raterman

Its wings are ornately painted, and when seen well the Black Witch is a thing of beauty. However, not all people consider them welcome, and much superstitious nonsense has come to shroud the moth. A Spanish name for this species is Mariposa de la Muerte, or "butterfly of death". Legend has it that if someone is ill in the casa, and a Black Witch enters, they'll soon die. A better myth has it that if the moth enters a dwelling, flies to all four corners in a room, someone inside dies.

I took this photo a few years back, in the Rio Grande Valley of south Texas. Several Black Witches were feeding on oranges set out for orioles, and the fruit offers a size scale, revealing the massive proportions of the moth.

Congratulations to Greg Raterman for an outstanding find, and I thank him for sharing it with us. There are probably some others flying around out there, somewhere - if you see a Black Witch, please let me know.

Black Witch in Ohio!

Photo: Rusty Shuffelton

Dave and Rusty Shuffelton made an extraordinary find back on August 13, when they entered Dave's Shelby County garage and discovered a female black witch, Ascalapha odorata. This enormous tropical species strays far to the north with regularity, but nonetheless Ohio records are few and far between. I don't think they are found here annually, or at least not that I hear of. Records are always noteworthy, and if you find one I'd love to hear about it.

This record illustrates the utility of cell/smart phones, nearly all of which seem to have cameras included these days. That's what Rusty used to document this record.

Last September, Greg Raterman turned up a black witch in Pickaway County, and I wrote about these interesting moths in more detail in that post. CLICK HERE if you would like to peruse that piece.

Thanks to Dave and Rusty for documenting and sharing this record.

Mothapalooza and the Black Witch

 

Another Mothapalooza is in the books, and it was great. This one was based at Shawnee State Park Lodge in the midst of Shawnee State Forest in Scioto County, Ohio. About 140 people (plus guides, speakers, and organizers) came from nine states, including Washington and Rhode Island.

There were scads of moths and other biodiversity. Friday night was especially good, and a standout mothing station was high on a ridge at Copperhead Fire Tower. This Black Witch (Ascalapha odorata) turned up there (great find by Yann), and another turned up the same night at another locale. Black Witches are largely tropical, ranging from southern Florida and Texas south into northern South America.

Witches are powerful flyers and regularly move northward in summer and fall, with one having made it all of the way to Michigan's Upper Peninsula. A few generally turn up each year in Ohio, but records seem to be on the increase. Diana Malas in Dayton had one last Friday night as well.

This is a huge moth, with a wingspan on 9.5 inches. A truly impressive beast!

Mothapalooza 2019

The sixth Mothapalooza is in the books and it was a smashing good time! Thanks to all of the organizers and volunteers, of which there are too many to name. I'll single one out: Mary Ann Barnett, who acts as conference CEO and is the glue that holds the whole complicated affair together.

Mothapalooza was hatched in an Adams County, Ohio roadside ditch some years ago, where a few of us saw a really cool moth (can't even remember what it was). I remarked something to the effect of "if we could show this to everyone, they'd all become moth fans". Now we have Mothapalooza as a vehicle to help do just that.

The first four conferences were annual, but the rigors of orchestrating such a large complex affair with a completely volunteer crew took its toll and we've backed off to an every other year strategy. As all but one Mothapaloozas have been, this year's event was based at Shawnee State Park and its lodge in the thick of the 65,000 acre Shawnee State Forest. Native plant diversity is staggering, and thus so is moth diversity. Couldn't be a better place to host this affair, at least in this neck of the woods.

To our initial great surprise, all Mothapaloozas have filled to a capacity crowd and quite rapidly after the opening of registration. This year, counting everyone involved, we had just north of 200 participants representing 20 states and one other country, Canada. As an important aside, Mothapalooza has generated several hundred thousand dollars in gross revenue for our hosting venues and in ancillary local expenditures. Mothing ecotourism writ large.

Field trips are strange, with 10 pm departures and many participants not returning to the lodge until 3 or 4 am. Mothing sheets are scattered throughout the hinterlands of the vast dark forest, with one or two in the biological riches of adjacent Adams County. We are fortunate to be able to attract the best of the best in terms of entomological experts and biologists, and the opportunities for learning are vast. We're recalibrating how we approach these nocturnal forays in the future, and think some excellent improvements will be coming that will make it even easier for everyone, and result in yet more moths (and caterpillars!).

The next Mothapalooza will take place in 2021, dates to be decided. We'll have it sorted out soon, and the venue should once again be at Shawnee.

For now, here's a few photos from Mothapalooza 2019. I've got scads, and am nowhere near getting through all of them, so I may post additional stuff later.

Samantha Marcone of Sam Jaffe's Caterpillar Lab provides scale to an enormous female black witch, Ascalapha odorata. This tropical stray to these latitudes turned up last Friday over the front door of Don Tumblin's daughter's house in Columbus. Her husband Matt spotted it, Lacey texted Don, who was at Mothapalooza, and Lacey chauffeured the giant moth down to Mothapalooza the next day. Thus, a few hundred people got their first look at this fantastic moth. Such a cool entanglement of circumstances, and better yet the moth dropped 75 eggs in its cage on the way down. Sam has them and will attempt to farm a crop of black witches and document the complete life cycle. The moth was later released to venture wherever it may.

We have diurnal field trips as well (not starting too early!), and hot weather and sunny skies produced scads of butterflies this year. Red-spotted purples, Limenitis arthemis, were quite common and wowed everyone with their extraordinary showiness.

A botanical treat was a huge sprawling mass of leather-flower, Clematis viorna. Scads of the interesting flowers adorned the vines, and this site turned out to be a major biological hotspot. Indeed, our Saturday field trip began here and we never made it anywhere else. The stroll along this sparsely traveled lane produced blizzards of interesting STUFF, from this plant to zebra swallowtail caterpillars to gnat-ogres to yellow-billed cuckoo and much more.

A saddleback caterpillar moth, Acharea stimulea, stares menacingly at the photographer. Its larval form is stunning, looking like a little tubular pony draped with a Day-Glo green horse blanket. The moth is incredibly spider-like from certain angles. This one was one of many that appeared at the moth sheets.

A white flannel moth, Norape ovina, seemingly having a bad hair day. Moths are a photographer's dream, and the subjects warrant attention from all angles.

A quite interesting little fellow, this one. It is a tiny moth in the genus Calioptilia, and perhaps part of a complex in which there are species awaiting description. No one could pin a name to this one. It's only about 5-6mm in length. Calioptilia (cal-ee-op-tee-lee-ah) moths are sometimes called "push-up moths". 

More to follow...

Polyphemus moth

A few weeks ago, I made a trip over to the famous West Jefferson McDonald's. Famous, that is, among the moth-seeking crowd. While those who covet french fries and Big Macs obviously frequent the place, there is a regular contingent who make visits after nightfall, looking for jumbo fliers.

Located right along the banks of Little Darby Creek, there is scads of good habitat in close proximity to this particular Golden Arches. Couple that with the brilliant high-mounted lights that bathe the parking lot in bluish illumination after dark, and you've got a veritable pot at the end of the rainbow for those who want to find the nighttime lepidoptera.

The West Jeff Mickey D's really draws the giant moths: a variety of sphinxes, Lunas, Royal Walnut Moth, Imperial Moth, and many more. There is even a record for the gargantuan Black Witch, a rare wanderer from the tropics. Late June through July seem a bit better for numbers and diversity, but I did manage one noteworthy bruiser of a moth on this visit.

Polyphemus moth, Antheraea polyphemus.

That hand offers a size-scale - this is one big moth! Note the eye spots peeking out, and fully exposed in the first photo. The moth uses them as a defense system. If some predator stumbles into it when at rest, the moth quickly flashes its forewings to the open position. Eek! Suddenly a giant pair of frightening eyes flash in the chickadee's face, sending it packing tail between legs.

I think they should rename this particular store "McMoth's". The famous arches glare in the background; we picked the moth up off the asphalt right about where this photo was made. Polyphemus moths are probably not all that rare, but like many of the large moths they are certainly on the decline. Even though their caterpillars can utilize a wide variety of tree species for food, habitat fragmentation, among other reasons, is certainly not helping their lot in life.

When at rest during the day in a normal habitat, the moth can look remarkably like a hanging dead leaf. But they don't have to worry about avoiding predators for very long; they're probably lucky to last for a week.

Face to face with a Polyphemus. The caterpillars, which get quite large, are voracious eating machines. Allegedly one of these bags of goo can eat some 86,000 times its original weight before it transforms.

The adults do not eat at all, and have no functional mouthparts. They live only to find the opposite sex, mate, and in the female's case, lay eggs. Female moths emit powerful pheremones, which the male senses through his large fernlike antennae. Apparently the boys can sniff out the girls from a mile or more, and steer unerringly towards them in the quest to reproduce.

An adult Polyphemus is a true miracle. Probably only a tiny percentage of all of the eggs laid by a female ever make it to adulthood. The threats are many, and the caterpillars are delicacies for all manner of parasitoid wasps and flies, and hungry birds, beetles, mammals and many others.

I saw firsthand the all too common fate of a caterpillar of another species of large moth recently, and will share that sometime soon.

White-marked Tussock caterpillar

White-marked Tussock Moth caterpillar, Orgyia leucostigma, feeding on Witch-hazel, Hamamelis virginiana.

A few weekends ago, I had the good fortune to cross paths with one of our more beautiful caterpillars while exploring forests along Columbiana County's Little Beaver Creek. White-marked Tussocks aren't rare; in fact, they are probably one of our more frequent caterpillars. But, caterpillars aren't the easiest things to find, and a bit of serendipity often factors into discoveries.


These things are wackily ornate, with various pencil-brushes, bristling setae, stripes, dots and colors. I was with some people who had never seen a White-marked Tussock and they seemed suitably impressed. They probably would have been less than awed by the adult - the tussock morphs into a bland brown moth that is completely unremarkable.

These cats are tolerant of a diverse diet, and in addition to the Witch-hazel that we found it munching on, they'll snack on a wide variety of woody plants. Remember, butterflies tend to be connoisseurs, finicky and ultra-selective, often only accepting one species of plant for their larval chow line. Moths, well, they're usually garbage-heads. Other appropriate food plants common to the area where I found this bushy little larva are Black Cherry, American Elm, Yellow Birch, Hackberry, and various oaks and hickories. They'll even process Eastern Hemlock, a conifer!

Here's a theory I find fascinating. Those four pencil eraser-like white tufts are thought by some to create the illusion of brachonid wasp cocoons. The theory being that an actively hunting brachonid wasp would see them, and think one of her sisters had already gotten to the caterpillar, and thus would pass it by. This is really great stuff, and I love that sort of deception. But, I don't know that it's true.

But, judge for yourself. This is a Pawpaw Sphinx that I photographed in late summer that was parasitized by brachonid wasps. These wasps lay eggs on the caterpillar, and upon hatching the grublets bore within. Those little white cases are the grub's cocoons; their last stop before transforming into adult wasps. Prior to making these the ghoulish little wrigglers lived inside the caterpillar, eating it from within before popping from its husk like an alien horrorshow.

Look at the real brachonid cocoons, then scroll up and check out the White-marked Tussock.

Interesting.

A gray day trip to the Moonville Tunnel

The legendary Moonville Tunnel, carved through a remote wooded hillside in southeastern Ohio's Vinton County.

Occasionally I get the yen to photograph WEIRD THINGS and November 30th (2018) was just such a day. The day dawned damp, cold, and foggy - perfect for my mission. I hit the road long before dawn, and arrived at my destination around daybreak. My target, the Moonville Tunnel, abounds with tales of ghostly lore, so I didn't want to shoot it on a bright sunny day as that'd take the edge off the place's alleged creepiness. So the misty dim light of the wooded Raccoon Creek valley in which the tunnel lies was perfect.

The brick "Moonville" name above the tunnel is falling apart, as it is on the other entrance. The decrepitude is understandable. The tunnel was blasted out in the mid-1850's to facilitate a railroad line that was decommissioned in 1988. The nearby town of Moonville is long gone, its remnants nothing but obscure foundational rubble, overgrown by forest.

A marker carved into the tunnel's stone commemorates the tunnel's 1903 refurbishing. Unfortunately, graffiti (this is NOT art, at least in this case) vandals have severely defaced the tunnel, spraying their gunk the length of the passage, as well as on the outside entrances.

Tales of ghosts are frequent here. CLICK THIS for more on the supernatural. I had the place to myself on this dark foggy morning, and spent over an hour in and around the tunnel, mostly within. Didn't pick up so much as a ghostly vibe. The tunnel is MUCH darker than this photo suggests. To bring out the architecture and interesting staining on the bricks - and unfortunately the atrocious graffiti - I took five successive exposures covering at least five stops of light, and fused them as a High Dynamic Range (HDR) image.

The young successional forest outside one of the tunnel's entrances. The dim foggy morning lent a bit of a Blair Witch Project feel to the overall ambience - perfect for this sort of subject matter.

I passed by this long-abandoned country chapel on the way to the Moonville Tunnel, and resolved to stop on the return journey and make some images. There is, I think, great symbolism here but I will leave that to you to ponder.

The long disused doors dangle ajar. Probably the only regular occupants these days are occasional opossums, raccoons, and black rat snakes. The nameplate was so faded and overgrown with trumpet-creeper vines that I couldn't make out the first part of the chapel's name.

Beautiful Raccoon Creek, which carved the valley in which the Moonville Tunnel sits. Once severely impacted by acid mine drainage, the stream is and continues to be an ever-improving environmental success story. Its reclamation has largely been shepherded by the Raccoon Creek Partnership, and thanks to their hard work the creek's water quality is far better these days.
 

After roaming about Zaleski State Forest for a while, making various photographs and wildlife observations, I stopped at the Nature Center in the midst of Lake Hope State Park before heading home. I hadn't gotten both feet out of the Jeep when I heard the chuckling rattles of red-headed woodpeckers! Yes! A real bonus!

The open oak woods around the center is full of the crimson-headed beasts, and what was there to do but attempt some imagery? Several family units were in the area, and the pugnacious woodpeckers were glaringly conspicuous as they grabbed and cached acorns. Above, a stunning adult props itself on a white oak.

Plenty of dapple-headed juvenile woodpeckers were present, such as this one who has chosen a nontraditional perch. I only had about an hour to work with the woodpeckers, but look forward to a return trip and the chance to attempt more photos of these amazing birds.

The bizarre world of the supranivean zone (snow insects)

Yesterday was a work day, more or less. I left before the crack of dawn to meet other planning committee members who are involved with organizing Mothapalooza. We spent a good chunk of the day at the Eulett Center in Adams County tightening down various nuts and bolts before opening registration in a few weeks. Special thanks to Mary Ann Barnett for ably overseeing this event, and efficiently running yesterday's meeting. This will be our third Mothapalooza, and you'll not want to miss it. CLICK HERE for a brief recap of the last one. I'll let you know when registration opens.

As I entered the Pike County region on my way south, the landscape transformed into a winter wonderland. A soft blanket of snow capped every twig, branch, and other structure, creating stunning vistas at every turn. Fortunately, I had built in some extra time, and stopped at a particularly photogenic locale to make some landscape images.

The persistent calyces of witch-hazel, Hamamelis virginiana, surrounded by icy snow caps.

After all was said and done with Mothapalooza planning, I joined David and Laura Hughes for what would be a very interesting adventure. Even though we had little more than two hours before dusk settled, we made the most of it and found lots of REALLY WEIRD STUFF.

Our destination was wooded terraces along this creek in the heart of Shawnee State Forest. Several inches of snow covered the ground in most areas, and the temperature hovered around the freezing mark (32 F),

Our targets were animals that live in the supranivean zone. Supra = above; Nivea; Latin for snow. In other words, animals that live on the surface of the snow. Below the snow are scores of subnivean creatures overwintering in the leaf litter and various recesses, sheltered from the exposed elements of weather on the snow's surface. We did not dig down to investigate the subniveans; our goal was to find the ultra tough invertebrates of the supranivean world.

The little black dashes on the snow in the above photo are springtails (species unknown). They were everywhere, scads and scads of them. Perhaps the best known of the winter springtails are the so-called snow fleas; CLICK HERE for a post about those.

A winter stonefly rests on the surface of the snow. Note the tiny springtail between the stonefly's antennae. The stoneflies were quite frequent yesterday.

As always, a trip afield with the Hughes is eye-opening and educational. Both Laura and David have powers of observation that far transcend that of the average person. Their ability to locate strange, interesting, and often ultra-Lilliputian beasts is remarkable. Laura is smitten with aspects of entomology that are poorly known, and she has become nearly encyclopedic in her stores of knowledge. Thanks to her, David and I became quite fired up to find and see the hardy animals presented herein.

A wingless wasp strolls the icy surface. In spite of the cold temperatures, this animal and everything else that we encountered were quite active. While insects may be largely thought of as animals of warm seasons, and most are, there is a trove of six-legged critters for which winter is their season. This wasp is one of the species that forms galls in oaks, either in leaves or sometimes in twigs. They have evolved to emerge and reproduce in the dead of winter.

This is another species of wingless oak gall wasps (presumably; we're unsure of the species). It was truly elfin, measuring perhaps 2-3 millimeters. Because of its constant activity, making photos was quite difficult and most were no good. Photographing small insects on snow is challenging. David and I both shoot with Canon 5D Mark III bodies, and use Canon's uber macro lens, the strange MP-E 65 coupled to twin lite flashes. Nonetheless, imaging scurrying little critters on cold snow and constantly shifting and bouncing light is a challenge. For those of you into photography, I find that in general shooting at ISO 100, f/16, and shutter speed of 1/200 works pretty well. Be prepared to bump up the flash intensity significantly as well.

David found this jumping spider, which really surprised us. It was out and active, and one has to wonder if certain predators such as this have also evolved physiological mechanisms that allow them to hunt in conditions far colder than most of their brethren can withstand. If this jumper was indeed hunting, it would appear to have little competition for the scores of stoneflies and other insects on the snow's surface.

And now for the most bizarre of our finds, and an insect that was high on Laura's wish list. Our quarry was a small and poorly known group of winter insects whose larvae - and adults, perhaps - feed on mosses. We spent most of our time hunting and pecking in areas that had plenty of mosses exposed among the snow.

Suddenly Laura let out an excited yell - she had found a snow scorpionfly! If you have any interest in bugs, it isn't hard to see why she - and us - wanted to find one of these things. Bizarre doesn't cover it. Note the long beaklike proboscis, proportionately massive goggle eyes, and strange segmented body. This is a male of the species Boreus nivoriundus, and its wings are reduced to odd comblike extensions used to grasp and hold the female during mating. Snow scorpionflies cannot fly, but as we can attest, they can hop like fleas. Indeed, the group is though to be some sort of missing link between fleas and scorpionflies, and they are placed in the Boreidae family.

This is a female snow scorpionfly. There are thought to be about 30 species of snow scorpionflies, and apparently only two of them occur in Ohio. This is a female of the other species that we're known to have, Boreus brumalis. With a big dose of beginner's luck, I suppose, we found both of them on our inaugural snow scorpionfly hunt. Much thanks to Benjamin Coulter, who identified these species for me.

In spite of her strange appearance, this snow scorpionfly is visually interesting. Her body looks as if it is forged from polished bronze, and she sports a formidable torpedo-like ovipositor. Perhaps she uses that appendage to push her eggs deep into moss beds.

Insects are ectothermic - they cannot generate body heat. In order to prevent the formation of ice crystals within cells, which would spell doom, insects that are exposed to harsh northern winters are supercharged with proteins and chemicals that reduce the freeze point of internal liquids, thus avoiding death by crystallization. Apparently snow scorpionflies and the other animals mentioned in this post have taken the art of supercooling survival to the nth degree.

There are obviously good reasons why some insects emerge in the dead of winter, or they would not have evolved the ability to do so. Possible reasons include predator avoidance - not nearly as many potential enemies would be active in cold air on the snow's surface. However, as the jumping spider potentially demonstrates, there are probably some enemies afoot. Rare indeed would be the situation where a large crop of food is readily available, and no one is there to plunder.

The snow's surface is also a great "single's bar". It would seem to be very easy for males and females to find one another on the stark white surface. There may also be food sources available that wouldn't be present at other times of the year. Also, a winter emergence might allow the insect to lock up its eggs and/or larvae in well concealed places during the rush of the warm seasons, when legions of predators are active.

Caterpillars

Last Thursday, I found myself on an expedition to look for birds in Mohican State Forest. We are near the height of passage for many songbirds, such as warblers. At one point, we were in an opening in an upland oak-hickory forest when we encountered a large mixed flock. The Red-eyed Vireos caught our attention first. In all, we tallied three dozen or more, all visible at once. They were joined by a Yellow-throated Vireo and a smattering of warblers: Bay-breasted, Blackpoll, Blackburnian, Black-throated Green, Chestnut-sided.

The vireos, especially, are complete caterpillar-hawks. Neotropical songbirds such as those listed above move south from the breeding grounds at the peak of caterpillar abundance, and that's no coincidence. Caterpillars are BY FAR the largest group of herbivores in the eastern deciduous forest, and long-distance migrant songbirds snap them up by the billions, collectively.

During lulls in the birding, we turned our eyes to the foliage and were able to find several of our more interesting caterpillars.

 This big beauty sports the colors of Halloween. It is an orange-striped oakworm, Anisota senatoria. They're big enough that at least some songbirds would probably leave it be. A Chestnut-sided Warbler wrestling with this thing would be akin to an infant trying to wolf down a foot long hotdog. Orange-striped oakworms are especially fond of dining on red oak, Quercus rubra, and that's exactly what we found this one eating.

One of our most striking caterpillars is the brown-hooded owlet, Cucullia convexipennis. I can see why David Wagner chose this as one of the three species that graces the cover of his masterpiece, the Caterpillars of Eastern North America. Brown-hooded owlets shun trees, and should be sought feeding on goldenrods or asters. This one was found on gray goldenrod, Solidago nemoralis.

This spicebush swallowtail caterpillar, Papilio troilus, is not sticking its tongue out at you. Those orange-yellow horns are called osmeteria, and the caterpillar uses them in an attempt to ward off would-be predators. When disturbed, the spicebush cat shoots them out with great rapidity, like a switchblade suddenly snicked open. That ploy, coupled with the scary snakelike eye patches, might be just enough to startle off hungry songbirds. It doesn't work on parasitoid flies and wasps, however. We found several last instar - final growth stage - caterpillars in this spicebush, and all seemed quite depauperate. They were probably infested with parasitoid larvae.

Looking a bit like a prancing steed, this red-humped oakworm, Symmerista canicosta, is a study in ornate patterning and intriguing form. As the name suggests, they prefer oaks, and sometimes break out in such numbers that the caterpillars cause localized defoliation. While supposedly confined to plants in the Fagaceae family, this one was found on witch-hazel, Hamamelis virginiana. However, there are some similar species and I may have the identification wrong. Let me know, if you know better.

A potential grim reaper lurks in the shadows. While we were making photos of this oakworm, a paper wasp, probably Polistes fuscatus, dropped in and began searching the foliage. These wasps capture caterpillars, chew them up, and feed the masticated remnants to their grubs. Interestingly, the wasp did not seem interested in this red-humped oakworm. At one point it came so near to the caterpillar that it had to be aware of it. It may be that the oakworm is chemically prtoected in such a way that some predators avoid them. Or perhaps the oakworm was just a bit too large for the wasp to manage.

Bizarre and humped like a camel, this streaked dagger, Acronicta lithospila, was a treat to encounter. This one was eating red oak, and was in an area where there was intense caterpillar activity. We found it and many other caterpillars along a roadside opening in a mature forest, with plenty of young sapling-sized trees. Caterpillar hunting is often the most productive in such sites - not so much in uniformly mature forests.

A few feet from the streaked dagger, we found this gorgeous variable oakleaf caterpillar, Lochmaeus manteo. It also was consuming red oak foliage. While we only saw this one in a quick search, variable oakleaf caterpillars are cyclically irruptive. In a boom year, according to Wagner, they can be so plentiful as to produce a steady fecal rain - their hard pellets falling by the score to the forest floor.