Caterpillars, Part III

Here's the last of lots of cool larvae found over the past two weeks or so. Most of them were discovered and photographed during this event RIGHT HERE.

Spotted Apatelodes (Apatelodes torrefacta) are cool cats indeed, although we must watch getting a bit jaded to them, as they turn up quite commonly. They resemble tubular Pomeranian dogs and come in two color forms: this lemony hue, and bright white. Apatelodes (Ah-pat-eh-lo-dees) are always crowd- pleasers, especially once you show people the party trick that follows.

As always, click the photo to enlarge

They have bright cherry-red booties! Although, as this is mostly a science blog, I suppose we should refer to them as anterior prolegs.

Spotted Apatelodes caterpillars are quite cooperative, and it's pretty easy to coax them onto a small petiole or twig, which then can be rotated for optimal booty photography.

A closer view of those cherry-colored anterior prolegs. Quite showy and equally pleasing in both yellow and white forms of the caterpillar. The million-dollar question: why are they bright red? Insofar as I know, this remains one of life's great mysteries. Many brilliant minds have pondered this question for much of recorded history, yet it remains a deep and apparently unfathomable enigma.

Here's another cat with spotted in the moniker, the Spotted Phosphila (Phosphila miselioides). It is an extreme specialist, eating only greenbriers (catbriers) in the genus Smilax. Greenbriers are not very beloved. They form low shrubby tangles in woodland understories and are heavily armed with stout thorns. Those of us that hunt cats love greenbriers though, because they host this caterpillar and the one to follow and also THIS WACKO SPECIES, a true Holy Grail of caterpillar hunters.

A bevy of Turbulent Phosphila caterpillars (Phosphila turbulenta) rests communally on the underside of a Greenbrier leaf. This species is highly social and when you find one, there's nearly always plenty of others. Turbulent Phosphilas appear two-headed, and it can be hard to tell which end is which. The rear of the caterpillar is more prominently marked with larger white spots.

Head on with a feeding Sycamore Tussock caterpillar (Halysidota harrisii). It is well-named and there is only one plant species that it could be eating: Sycamore (Platanus occidentalis). It is another extreme specialist, but its host plant is very common and so are the caterpillars.

A Virginia Creeper Sphinx (Darapsa myron) feeds on the leaf of a Riverbank Grape (Vitis riparia). It is a specialist on members of the grape family (Vitaceae), which in Ohio includes five native species of grapes, and two creeper species. Plants in this family host a variety of interesting, beautiful caterpillars, and we always give them the once-over when hunting cats.

The interesting slant-faced caterpillar of the Walnut Sphinx Moth (Amorpha juglandis). National Wildlife Magazine once did a short piece on this oddity, featuring an image taken by your narrator. The cat is particularly notable as it can make loud hissing sounds when threatened, typically violently thrashing its body at the same time. The effect is remarkably snake-like.

This is one of a number of sphinx cats that specialize on ash, the Waved Sphinx (Ceratomia undulosa). Even though the invasive Emerald Ash Borer has been hard on our ashes, and their deaths due to that beetle has altered the composition of some woodlands, ash remains common. As far as I know, this sphinx uses all of Ohio's five ash species (all in the genus Fraxinus).

Perhaps suggestive of a sphinx but in a different family is this White-dotted Prominent (Nadata gibbosa). It eats oak, primarily, but also other members of the Fagaceae family such as beech. A rather large, handsome cat, last instar (fully grown) specimens can engage in a remarkable snake-like display when threatened. First, the caterpillar will bare its mandibles, creating the illusion of scary eyes, then slowly sway back and forth like a cobra in the snake charmer's basket. Pushed further, it'll coil its body and throw its head over the loop in another snake-like display. I have pictures of those poses HERE and HERE.

Beautiful in a rather indescribable way is this Wavy-lined Heterocampa (Cecrita biundata). It mimics its leafy autumnal surroundings remarkably well, the dappled browns on its body suggesting aging necrotic leaf patches. This species is more catholic in its diet than many caterpillars, eating many species of woody plants.

One of my personal favorites is this Witch Hazel Dagger (Acronicta hamamelis). It is yet another hyper-specialist, eating only its namesake plant (Hamamelis virginiana).

Finally, we will end this caterpillar tour with a butterfly, even if these lesser day-flying moths only constitute a tiny fraction of a percent of the lepidopteran species that occur over the Eastern Deciduous Forest region. This one is particularly cool though. It is a Zebra Swallowtail (Eurytides marcellus).

Here's a head-on view of the Zebra cat noshing on a leaf edge. And that could only be one species of leaf: Pawpaw (Asimina triloba). Like many of the moths that I have shared, it too is highly specialized.

To truly practice conservation of biodiversity, it is necessary to protect and provide habitat for ALL plant species. That's about 1,850 species just in Ohio, and we haven't done a particularly good job. Over one-third of our native plant species are officially listed as endangered, threatened, potentially threatened, or extirpated (no longer known to occur in Ohio) by the Ohio Department of Natural Resources. Here's the LINK TO THE LIST.

It's the little things like caterpillars, fostered by native flora, that are the building blocks of biodiversity. And far few too many people, even those involved in management of natural resources, have a good grasp of that. Fortunately, with the ever-increasing popularity of moths, more and more people are tuning into a greater ecological awareness, and that should only be good for true conservation of our natural resources into the future.

Monarchs galore!

A slight interruption from the caterpillar programming - I should have one more upcoming post featuring some really cool larval finds from recent days.

For the third time in six years, a large group of migratory Monarch butterflies (Danaus plexippus) has formed on the farm of Lorene and Robert Miller of Plain City, Ohio. There are least a thousand butterflies, and at least on peak days, probably a lot more.

I'll post a more detailed story about this phenomenon later, but for now, here's two images from last night's visit.

Dozens of Monarchs cloak a favored maple. This was just the tip of the lepidopteran iceberg.

A Monarch rests atop a Norway spruce. A small windbreak of these trees is also a favored nighttime roost.

PHOTO NOTES: An issue for photographers with photographing this roost at its maximum glory is light. Many of the butterflies do not come in until the sun has nearly set, and some are still returning after the sun has set. Thus, in the shady environs of the silver maple above, which is also blocked from the sun by the spruce windbreak, ISO levels can and do rise to very high levels at prime time, even with lenses wide open and shutter speeds as low as one can reasonably manage.

To combat this problem, I used the amazing Canon 200mm f/2 lens for the roost shots. The second image of the Monarch in gorgeous late day light perched on a spruce, was made with the Canon 400mm f/4 DO II. Light was no issue there. But it certainly was around the maple tree. For those images, I shot the 200mm lens wide open at f/2, and as slow as 1/60 second (the lens also has superb image stabilization which greatly improves one's ability to handhold). For the image above, my settings were f/2, 1/100, and ISO 2500. That kind of ISO, while higher than I would prefer, is processed well by the Canon R5. Also, I was able to compose images such that very little, or no cropping was necessary. A bit of noise reduction via Photoshop later, and all looks good. Some photogs around me were reporting ISO's as high as 25,600 by the time I made this image, and most had stopped shooting by then.

While wildlife photographers might not have a lot of use for a relatively short focal range 200mm lens, it is worth its weight in gold at times due to that huge f/2 aperture. This lens is also almost eerily sharp, even wide open. I just tried to find a situation where as many butterflies as possible in the center of the composition were pretty much in the same plane and focused on those. Then, let the chips fall where they may. I personally love the look that this bokeh monster creates at open apertures (and even when stopped way down).

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.