Monthly Archives: March 2009

Four days early

Graphocephala coccinea, Red-banded Leafhopper

Another beautifully mild day today, with our thermometer peaking at 17 oC (63 oF) in the sun mid-afternoon (actual temperature was somewhat lower, but not by a great deal). We’ve had a string of such nice days now. It looks like after tomorrow a cold front will move in and drop temperatures down for a few days, but by this time next week we’ll be back up again. I’ve been starved for balmy, sunny weather, I’ve been soaking it in these last few days.

So has the wildlife. I’m up to 12 species of moths recorded so far this season already. This seems to me like an extraordinary number for March 17, and I’m not sure how much of that number has to do with the string of warm days (perhaps we didn’t run into that last year?), versus me actually setting up and looking for them (I didn’t try this early last year because I didn’t want to waste my time if nothing was flying, since it was more of an effort when we were in the apartment, but this year since we’re in a house I can put the light out anyway and it’s not a big deal if nothing comes), versus simply being in a great place for moths (and everything else; I love my home).

Last night I got two moths which I took photos of this morning, after holding them chilled in the fridge overnight. Rather than just setting them up on the deck railing or on a sheet of paper or something, I hunted down a dead leaf that was still in good shape as a photo base. Most were starting to fall apart, or if they were still intact, they were curled up. Finally I found one that was whole, and mostly flat. When I picked it up and turned it over, I noticed a small white speck on the underside. It turned out to be a leafhopper. I think it’s a Red-banded Leafhopper, Graphocephala coccinea, also sometimes known as a Candy-striped Leafhopper. It’s very pale, and I suspect this may be because it had just recently emerged, and its exoskeleton was still soft (the colours in insects’ exoskeletons often strengthen as the shell hardens).

spring fly

Also something I noticed today that I hadn’t over the weekend was a profusion of flies. They were ubiquitous in open areas where leaf detritus had piled up in the fall, such as the edge of our driveway and lawn, or the clearings along the forest edge. I’m not positive on its ID. I think it might be a Stable Fly, Stomoxys calcitrans, which is a common and cosmopolitan species. I was able to rule out House Fly by the veination on the wings, but that was about as far as I got. Flies are a group I’m content to leave to someone else’s expertise.

Edit: Kirk suggests in the comments that this is a Flesh Fly, family Sarcophagidae. So not even close to Stable Fly. I told you fly ID is better left to the experts.

Winter Firefly, Ellychnia corrusca

I was intrigued by the discovery of the leafhopper, and the presence of all the flies, and thought perhaps during my walk with Raven today I’d take my camera and see what other spring insects I might be able to turn up. I wasn’t expecting much – after all, it’s only March 17 and there’s still snow on the ground in many places. But I might be lucky and find one or two.

I was surprised to discover a total of 13 individuals of 7 species today. Leafhopper and flies were #1 and 2, but species #3 was the above – fire-less fireflies known as the Winter Firefly, Ellychnia corrusca. The genus Ellychnia are all diurnal, and as such lack the light-emitting organs of most other fireflies (not much point, they wouldn’t be seen). They are also most commonly found on tree trunks, and indeed these two (plus one other) were climbing up the ridged bark of a big White Pine. The Winter Firefly, presumably taking its common name from its cool-weather tolerance and early spring appearance, also happens to be the largest firefly of the northeast by almost twice as much – the large one in this photo was probably about 18mm, perhaps 5/8″.

Twice-stabbed Ladybeetle, Chilocorus stigma

A couple trees away, sitting on the side of a hop-hornbeam, was this critter – a ladybeetle, but not the generic orange-with-black-and-white-”head” Asian Ladybeetle that we’re so used to seeing around the house and garden. This one is actually native, and discovering native ladybeetles is such a rare occurrence for me I could count the total number I’ve seen on two hands. Surprisingly, there are actually more than 480 species in North America, so I don’t know how much of my not having seen many is simply because they’re secretive compared to the Asian invaders, or because the Asian beetles are outcompeting them. This particular one, seeming the reverse in pattern from the usual black-spots-on-red, is called the Twice-stabbed Ladybeetle, Chilocorus stigma. You can see why the species was named such, but it’s a slightly morbid name, particularly when you consider the Lady in ladybeetle was actually a reference to the Virgin Mary.

There has been a general decline in ladybeetles on the continent, and in recognition of this the Lost Ladybug Project was started in an effort to build a database of ladybeetle sightings to try to help with monitoring these species (since it’s really hard for a couple of Cornell scientists to cover the entire continent). If you have any ladybeetle observations be sure to send them in!

Menecles insertus

I just happened to spot this guy sitting still in amongst the leaf litter while I was photographing a fly, not a foot away. It is a true bug with the scientific name Menecles insertus, and was easy enough to pick out in the Kaufman Insect guide by its all-brown colouring and pale stripe down its back. It seems to be a fairly common insect of the east, feeding on a range of deciduous trees. My guess would be that its brown colouring is an adaptation to a late fall and early spring adult stage, since the predominant colour in the landscape at those times of year is the brown of dead leaves. There wasn’t much info available in either resource I checked, though, and I’m simply hypothesizing that it overwinters as an adult since that would make such an early spring appearance easier.

wolf spider?

I found two of these spiders, in two different spots. I think they’re a type of wolf spider, but I don’t have a definitive ID on them yet, either. They were scuttling through the leaf litter, and, aside from the flies, were the main source of eye-catching movement that I encountered. All of the rest of the insects required examining the ground more closely.

metallic beetle

I also don’t know what this beetle is. It was just a wee little thing, less than half a cm (less than 1/4″) long, but a bright iridescent bronze. I had happened to kneel down to inspect a large rock with mica deposits in it, and as I was checking out the mica, a little beetle comes wandering up over the top of the rock in front of me, like he wanted to make sure he was counted.

Edit: In the comments, Ted makes this suggestion: “The beetle is a leaf beetle (Chrysomelidae) in the genus Graphops (subfamily Eumolpinae). It could be G. curtipennis, a common eastern North American representative, although there are a number of species in the genus that are difficult to sight ID.”

One other species I saw but didn’t post here was a diurnal moth, a small little tan guy, whose identity also remains unknown to me. It’s amazing how much time one can spend trying to identify things if one really wants to.

grasshopper nymph

Finally, species #13, was these grasshopper nymphs (above and below). I found the green one first, and was quite surprised to discover a grasshopper. I didn’t notice until I got home that it was a nymph and not an adult. Part of the presence of grasshoppers so early is explained by this. It turns out they’re both Northern Green-striped Grasshoppers, Chortophaga viridifasciata. The species has two colour morphs, with both sexes occurring in both colours, but with females predominantly green and males mostly brown. Eggs are laid and hatch in the summer and over the course of the fall the baby ‘hoppers go through a few moults. The winter arrives while they’re still nymphs, though they may be anywhere from half-grown to nearly adults. They overwinter as nymphs and emerge early in the spring to finish growing. They’re usually the first species of grasshopper to be encountered as adults in the spring because they’ve got such a huge head start on development over other species that overwinter as eggs.

Total counts to date this season: 12 species of moth, 12 species of other insect. At March 17th! And spring (the official first day) not even here yet, it’s still four days away. I just can’t get over that. It looks like we’ll have to endure a few chilly days as a cold front moves through later this week and into the weekend, but we’ll be back up to these temperatures again next week. I wonder if I should wait till the 21st to declare spring finally arrived?

grasshopper nymph

The Moth and Me #1

The first edition of the new blog carnival The Moth and Me is now up over at NAMBI. Although we’re still waiting for spring to settle in through much of the north here, the southern hemisphere is just wrapping up summer, and in the tropics they don’t see winter at all. I may not see another moth for another couple of weeks, but in the meantime, we can live vicariously through the posts of others – head on over to check it out!

Deadlines

Ever thought about that word, deadlines? Dead lines? Is it that the line itself is dead? Or that your death is somehow connected to the line? Before the line that is dead, you are alive, after the line, you are dead, because you didn’t make your deadline. Actually, according to Wiktionary.com (I love Wikipedia and its spinoffs), the understanding of a deadline as a due date comes from journalism, which in turn adopted it from printing, going back to the days of the old printing presses, where a dead line was a line on a plate that did not move. Like many of the words in the english language, deadline – as a due date – is not all that old. Interestingly, other contexts the word has been used in include a fishing line that is set and not moved, left to wait for a bite, and in the prison system, as a line (often a fence) over which inmates must not go or they will be shot.

Your dead line is March 13th. Friday the 13th, in fact. How’s that for an ominous deadline date? (Speaking of relatively recent, apparently references to Friday the 13th being unlucky really only start appear in the early 1900s – the connection has been made to a book that came out at that time by Thomas W. Lawson called Friday, the thirteenth, about a Wall Street broker who uses the superstition to his advantage.)

Friday the 13th would be today. Today is the last day I am officially accepting material for the blog carnival The Moth and Me, which will be posted at NAMBI on Sunday. As you all know, I am crazy about moths (only slightly less crazy than I am about birds, and just a tad more than I am about nature in general), and I hope to see this carnival thrive and prosper. But that requires that people send in their links! For the first edition or two I’m not picky about date – send in anything you have, even if it’s from a year or two ago. Let’s give this fabulous group of organisms their due! I will unofficially still accept material up to late tomorrow (Saturday), but don’t leave it to the last minute if you can – I’ll be working to put together the post tomorrow, and would like to have material in hand by then.

Festival of the Trees

Your other deadline, which is fortunately is a little further in the future, is for Festival of the Trees. This will be a busy month for me, in terms of hosting carnivals, in that I’ll be doing two within a couple weeks of each other. Links for FOTT will need to be in to me by March 30, for an April 1 carnival. Trees, and anything tree-related (such as tree-specific fungi, tree-using insects, or tree-loving people), will be happily accepted.

Specify which carnival the links are for in your subject line. One post per person preferably, although if you have two really good ones and just can’t decide, go ahead and send them both in. Email them to: sanderling [at] symbiotic [dot] ca or, for FOTT, use the online submission form.

Looking forward to seeing what everyone has to offer!

Paintbrush to paper

Hoary Redpoll

I have many different projects on the go. They form a combination of writing and illustration, a lot of computer work and a bit of creative hands-on. The great thing about this is that there’s always something different to turn to if you get bored of one project or need to take a break. The downside to this is it’s easy for something, which perhaps doesn’t have an imminent deadline, to be put on the backburner for a while. Such was the case with the paintings I’m supposed to be doing. In fact, it had been so long since I’d done any painting, that when I picked up my paintbrush I discovered I’d forgotten how to paint. As far as artistic pursuits go, painting has never been my strongest medium. I feel much more comfortable with pencil or ink, working in monochromatic palettes, than I do in colour. However, with a bit of practice I can produce some passable results. With little practice, however, it easily slips from me.

So I decided I need something to warm myself up, to get me back into the routine. I wanted something that was a familiar subject, unlike the birds I’d been commissioned to paint. The obvious choice, of course, was one of the hoards of redpolls I’d been watching the last few days. I selected the photo above as the one I would primarily work off of.

Hoary Redpoll - sketch

The first step to any painting is to sketch out your basic forms. This is the part of the whole procedure that I feel most comfortable with, unsurprisingly. If only I could just stop there. Because I had no plans for this to be a fantastic finished work, I simply wanted something that I could practice my painting techniques on, I didn’t spent a lot of time on the sketch. If proportions were a little off, that was okay, that wasn’t the goal anyway. I would ordinarily spend more time on the sketch, getting the proportions and composition right, but this one I threw down in about five minutes. Then it’s over to the drafting table, and the paints.

Hoary Redpoll - step 1

The first thing I do with every piece I draw or paint is the beak and the face. I find it very difficult to move on to the rest of the work without first completing at least the beak and the eyes. It grounds me, gives me some confidence, and adds a spark of life to the work from the outset. Everything else looks better if the face is in.

Doing the work in stages is a necessity, primarily because I need to pause regularly, at least every half an hour if not more regularly, to stoke the fire. It’s an upside to central heating that I never really appreciated before. It makes it more difficult to get into a good groove when one is working, but it does provide me with a reminder to take photos of each stage.

Hoary Redpoll - step 2

I fill in the rest of the face and add the red cap. Ordinarily I might not jump into the bright colours so quickly, at least not when I was working in acrylics. The advantage to gouache is that while it has the opacity of acrylic when thick, it acts like a watercolour when thinned out, and also shares watercolour’s characteristic of being able to revive it with a bit of water. So before, with acrylic, I would have done all like colours together because once your paint on your palette is dry, that’s it, you have to mix it again if you want to use it again. But with gouache, you can do the work in sections, not paying attention to like colours, because if something dries on your palette you can just add a few drops of water and away you go.

Stoke the fire, take a photo, rinse, repeat.

Hoary Redpoll - step 3

Next I spend some time working on the wing. I find it tricky to convey all the different feathers that make up a wing and still make them look three-dimensional. Putting in the shadows, the highlights, the gaps where they belong, making sure the colours all match. For the amount of area to cover, the wing takes proportionally the most time to complete. Finally I decide I’m happy with it, or if not happy, then sufficiently satisfied to be able to move on to the next part. This tends to become my philosophy when painting. I hate fussing over a piece of art, going back and fiddling with bits over and over. Unless there’s some major flaw in it, I’m more likely to just call it done when I reach the end, and not worry about minor imperfections.

Stoke the fire, take a photo, rinse, repeat.

Hoary Redpoll - step 4

In goes the tail feathers and the shadows and streaks on the rump and flanks. This goes fairly quickly because none of them are very detailed, and they’re all within roughly the same colour range. I’ve also gone back and softened up the scapulars and brightened the highlights on the flight feathers, deciding they were still just a tad too brown.

Stoke the fire, take a photo, rinse, repeat.

Hoary Redpoll - step 5

If that last step went quickly, however, this one takes no time flat. I wet down some grey and paint in the shadows along the bird’s belly and breast. Adding a bit more black or white to create depth to the shades, thinning the paint out to nearly water to get the lightest tones. For a step that takes so little time, it has a huge impact, rounding the bird out and making it look three-dimensional. I’ve over-accentuated the bird’s cleavage because it’s going to get painted over in the next step.

Stoke the fire, take a photo, rinse, repeat.

Hoary Redpoll - step 6

The biggest visual impact, of course, is in adding the rosy wash to the breast. It brightens the whole painting up, suddenly making it lively and colourful from the drab grey-brown tones it was before. I darken up the rosy shadows with more pink and thin out the paler parts with a light wash of white. I add hints of feather fringes using a thin white, as well. I soften the brush strokes along the flanks and cheeks with clear water. I forgot to pause once completing the breast, and carry on to paint in the feet before remembering to stop.

Stoke the fire, take a photo, make some dinner, tuck away till tomorrow.

Hoary Redpoll - step 7

The next day I return to finish off the painting, or at least the branch the bird is on. I hate branches. Despise them. I can’t make them look convincing in any medium. It’s unfortunate that so many birds choose to perch on them. Of course, I feel no more pleasure toward painting debris on the ground, or rock surfaces, or tree trunks, or blades of grass. Cattails I’m okay with, if everything could perch on a cattail that’d be handy. Or fencing wire. But a painting’s not complete without some substrate for the bird to perch on, so I forge ahead with the branch. I end up not finishing the little twiglets. They’re for another day, when I’m feeling more ambitious. In my rush to be done with the branches, I forget to go back and paint in the bird’s toenails. Oops. They’ll get done when I return to finish the twiglets, I suppose.

Hoary Redpoll - detail

I’m feeling better about the painting process now, my fingers are warmed up and my brain is starting to get back into painting mode. On to the “real” stuff.

Fowl-weather restaurant

Hairy Woodpecker

I wouldn’t say that there had necessarily been a lull at the feeders, per se, during the warmer temperatures, but certainly activity was a bit decreased for those few days as birds found it easier to find their own food out in the woods. With the return of the snow yesterday, the feeders were back to normal, bustling with birds looking for easy food. Most of the birds blend in with one another, with no one individual really standing out. The species that we don’t get very many of, however, like the nuthatches, are more likely the same individual visiting frequently (in the case of the Red-breasted Nuthatches, we’re pretty sure there’s only two, and one has the black crown of the male, while the other is a female sporting her grayish crown, which makes it easy to tell them apart).

There are a couple of individuals that we banded a little earlier in the winter and who are continuing to come round to the feeders. One of them is this male Hairy Woodpecker. I haven’t noticed the banded female recently, but this male is a regular. Here he is proudly displaying his jewelry while he checks out the activity at the nyger feeders (he eventually left without trying the seed).

Feisty siskin

Another is this banded siskin, the only banded siskin that I’ve noticed still hanging around (though Dan indicated he thought there might be two). The others have most likely headed north already, given their fat levels when we caught them. Even the couple of banded redpolls I’d observed for the first little while after they were captured have now disappeared, leaving just this lonely individual still hanging out at the feeders. It can’t be that s/he’s having trouble finding enough food to put on the fat, because s/he dominates the feeders. Just as feisty as always, she (or he) reaches up to take a nip at an offending redpoll.

Redpoll party

It’s been hanging-room-only at the feeders the last couple days, as the snow arrived and birds started scrambling for food. They’ve been plowing through the seed, easily going through half a tube’s worth over the course of a frenzied day. I wonder just how much food each bird actually ingests during all this squabbling. Obviously some will get more than others, but it seems like half their time is spent shooing others away, rather than just sitting and eating.

Redpoll group

When not at the feeder, those birds that turn their beaks up at foraging on the ground will wait their turns on the surrounding branches. There’s easily just as many, or more, birds lined up along the twigs as there are on the feeder itself. I love the collection of little red caps and yellow beaks against the browns and grays of the winter landscape.

Keeping an eye out

At one point something went overhead and all the birds at the feeder went stock-still, except for their heads which they rotated sideways to point an eye up at the sky. I’m not sure what it was they spotted – it could have been a hawk, after all we had that Sharpie around a little while ago. It could have been a raven soaring over, looking hawk-like in profile as it cruised overhead; certainly we’ve had plenty of those about during the winter. Possibly a Red-tailed Hawk, moving low overhead. I’ve seen one or two around over the course of the winter, though it would be unlikely they’d come down to the feeders. If we were closer to a flight path I might suggest it could even have been an airplane, but we hardly ever see them through here, and when we do it’s pretty easy to hear the engines as they pass by.

Hoary Redpoll

Our male Hoary that we spotted earlier in the winter has apparently hung about, and was active at the feeders the last couple of days. Either that, or it’s a different individual. Either way, he was a nice addition to the feeder crowd. He stood out from the rest, even though he didn’t look quite as pale as the one from earlier. Redpolls only have a single moult to replace their feathers, in the fall, rather than the two that most songbirds have. They acheive their breeding plumage through the gradual wearing-off of the pale feather tips over the course of the winter, exposing the rosy underneath. This process would also expose the brown on his back, probably an advantage during the breeding season when white isn’t as common a colour in the landscape, and would result in him looking paler earlier in the winter than now.

Hoary Redpoll

His pure-white undertail coverts and thin, sparse flank streaking were give-aways, as was the stubby bill when he turned his head. The other thing that jumped out about this individual was his gorgeous rosy breast on a fluffy white background. When he perched on the branches away from the feeder, it was easy to spot him, he had considerably more pink to his chest than the Commons did.

There are two subspecies of Hoary Redpoll. The one that most people probably think of, the stereotyped pale Hoary, is C.h. hornemanni, which has very reduced pink to the breast. It breeds in the Northwest Territories and winters from Michigan to Maryland. The other subspecies, C.h. exilipes, is a little more common, breding from Alaska to Labrador, and wintering right across the continent from Oregon to Maryland.

This latter subspecies isn’t as pale as the first, and, according to the “bander’s bible” which gives the moult details for every age and sex of every species, in the adult male exilipes “the pink of the underparts [is] deep, usually covering most of the breast.” Interestingly, that contradicts his statement later on in the species account where he says the “breast and rump with a light to moderate pink wash”. I just read this latter statement at first and was thoroughly confused about what appeared to be a heavily-marked Hoary, until I read the subspecies description.

This may be my last redpoll post; they’ll be departing soon, headed back to the shrubby tundra lowlands across northern Canada. We can probably expect to enjoy another couple of weeks of them gobbling nyger seed before they’re gone – at least till next winter.