Monthly Archives: July 2011

Sunday Snapshot: Newly banded

Newly-banded and released Pileated Woodpecker

A Pileated Woodpecker captured and banded at our Blue Lakes MAPS station this season – only the second we’ve caught in three seasons of MAPS work. It’s such a privilege to see these guys in the hand. This one was an after-third-year – that is, at least four (or more) years old. Close-up of the bird here.

Skimmer, cicada

Slaty Skimmer and cicada

I’m at my parents’ house at the moment, horse-sitting while they’re away for a few days and providing my services as a house-painter. Before I left for here, though, Dan and I made a couple of MAPS visits to two of our sites. Quiet, quiet days, despite a fair bit of activity at Rock Ridge the last time we were there. It’s hard to know if dispersal is low due to poor breeding success this year or if we’ve just hit on a couple of poor days… we’re hoping the latter.

On our way out of the site at the end of our Rock Ridge visit I was waiting for Dan to finish wrestling with the canoe when a large insect buzzed in and landed on a twig not far from me. It turned out to be a cicada. I had my short lens on the camera and wasn’t able to get close enough for a shot suitable for making an ID with, unfortunately, but it’s an annual cicada of some species. Perhaps a dog-day cicada, like the one I discovered emerging from its larval exoskeleton a few years ago. Ordinarily these guys are pretty tough to spot as they hang on branches in the tree canopy and their loud buzz can be difficult to zero in on, so it was neat that this one was down at ground-level and easy to see, even if it flew off when I tried to step a bit closer. It feels, so far, like it’s been a good year for cicadas, as I’ve spotted quite a few of them. I wonder if their numbers actually are higher this year, and if so, whether that’s due to particular conditions of this year, or of the year that this year’s adults had been laid as eggs (they can spend two or three years in their larval stage before emerging from the soil to metamorphose into an adult).

As I was pulling my camera out, another insect came and perched on the same twig: a Slaty Skimmer, Libellula incesta. This individual or another nearby had actually scooped a deerfly from about my head and landed on my canoe paddle to eat it only moments earlier (which I find an interesting coincidence, as my only other photo of this species happens to be of an individual chowing down on a deerfly caught from around my head). Slaty Skimmers are one of my favourite dragonflies for that deep, velvet blue. I’d never noticed them where I grew up, and I haven’t spotted any at our current place, but they’re possibly the most common species at Rock Ridge right now.

Another mantisfly

mantisfly, Dicromantispa interrupta

Last summer I discovered a wasp-mimic mantisfly at Maplewood Bog, one of our MAPS stations. I’d never seen one of these strange-looking bugs in person before, but I recognized it from regular browsing of my insect field guide. A few nights ago I encountered another one, only the second I’ve ever seen – interestingly, the same night I got my second-ever Hologram Moth. This individual came to my moth sheet and was just resting there in front of the light.

This one’s a different species than last year’s, and in fact a different genus. Last year’s was a wasp mimic of the genus Climaciella. This individual is Dicromantispa interrupta. The second part of the name refers to the dark band that runs along the outer edge of the wing and is interrupted near its tip. As I noted last year, these insects are predatory and use their front legs just like praying mantises do. My Kaufman Guide to Insects makes the note that a sister species, D. sayi may come to lights and prey on other insects that are also attracted to them. This one showed little interest in the other bugs at the light, so far as I could tell. Perhaps it was simply content to sit and people-watch.

Hologram Moth

93-1179 - 8897 - Diachrysia balluca - Hologram Moth

A few nights ago I got this fabulous moth to my mercury vapour light. This is the appropriately-named Hologram Moth, Diachrysia balluca. The large patch on its back is iridescent, shining green to bronze, depending on the angle of the light. Hints of this colour can be seen elsewhere on the wing as well, set into a lavender-gray base. And in case that wasn’t enough colour, it’s got this wonderful orange head.

This species ranks among my favourite moths, and yet this is only the second individual I’ve ever seen. The first was one I caught in 2008 at my parents’ old house in the Toronto area. It’s somewhat odd that I haven’t encountered it much, really. It has a fairly large range and is found throughout Ontario; and its foodplants aren’t particularly uncommon as it includes Trembling Aspen and Rubus spp. among its preferences. And yet in three summers of mothing here I hadn’t caught it till now. Where’s it been? Who knows. That’s one of the things I love about mothing: you never know what’ll turn up.

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An aside. As anyone who keeps their own blog will know, blogging is a time-consuming activity. A single post can run from an hour to three, depending on its length and how much research you do; mine in the past have averaged on the longer side of that range. I’ve struggled to keep posting the last few months, though not for lack of content; simply for lack of time and energy. I keep meaning to improve, and keep failing. So I’ve had to seriously consider how I want to handle the future of the blog. One option would be to discontinue posting… but I don’t think I’m ready for that yet, even after three and a half years of blogging. I’m still taking photos, I still want to share them. The issue is I don’t want to spend two hours writing up a post (even though I want to share all that info! All those photos!). So the solution I’ve come to, after a serious heart-to-heart with myself, is simply to make the posts shorter. One or two photos, a couple hundred words. The blog won’t be quite the same as it was for the first few years, but it won’t be defunct, either. Life is all about compromises.

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An additional note to thank whomever it was that nominated my blog for the Canadian Weblog Awards. I got an email the other day notifying me of my blog’s nomination in the categories of Best Written and Nature. I don’t expect to actually win, but it’s flattering to be nominated!

Nominations are open through October, so if you know a Canadian blog you think should be nominated (whether or not you’re Canadian yourself), you should pop over and do so.

European Skippers

meadow and horses

I’ve recently been hired to survey a piece of land out near Carleton Place. I’m there to inventory their birds, but I find my attention regularly wandering to the many other interesting things I encounter while hiking the site. About half of the land area there is open field, which has been leased to a nearby farm and is lightly grazed by a herd of perhaps 20 horses. The gentle land use has helped maintain the site as a lush meadow full of wildflowers and rambling growth. Beautiful, diverse meadows like this aren’t very common; certainly the fields on our property lack this sort of verdant vegetation.

My surveys are intended particularly to discover whether Species at Risk are present. The meadow type doesn’t contain enough grass to be especially appealing to Bobolink, and there are only a couple pairs of Eastern Meadowlark, and it’s far too grassy to interest Common Nighthawk; there aren’t enough shrubs to draw in Golden-winged Warblers, and not enough of what shrubs there are are hawthorn to make it appropriate for Loggerhead Shrike. I suspect the list of Species at Risk will end up being a little on the thin side, which is too bad, because it’s the presence of those species that results in protection for all the rest of the species that use the site. And this is a beautiful site.

European Skippers on milkweed

On previous visits I’ve been there on overcast mornings, but this weekend was clear and warm. I started with the forested bits first, and by the time I made it out to the meadows, about three hours after sunrise, the vegetation was all drying off and the insects were perched at the top of the plants, absorbing the sunshine and preparing for an active day. As I walked through the thigh-high growth my passage stirred up clouds of small orange skippers – dozens of them at a time, floating lightly just above the flowers. I felt like I was walking through a fairy tale.

In many spots they clustered on the flowers – especially the milkweed, but also the Viper’s Bugloss. They seemed to be actively sipping on the nectar of the milkweed, though others simply rested on the stems of grass they perched on.

European Skippers on Timothy grasses

Every single one of them, or at least every single one that I looked at, was a European Skipper, Thymelicus lineola. These little butterflies are, as the name says, not native. They were introduced to North America around 1910, in a shipment of contaminated Timothy grass seed. Adults lay their eggs on the leaf-sheath or the seed heads of Timothy and a few other grass species. The butterflies spend the winter as eggs, the only North American skipper species to do so. As you might expect, eggs built to overwinter are particularly hardy, and European Skipper eggs will even survive modern seed-cleaning methods.

The species has spread on its own, but it’s been helped along by the distribution of contaminated Timothy seed. This site relates that during the building of the James Bay Highway in the 70s roadsides were stablized using imported grass seed, including contaminated Timothy, thus bringing the skipper to northern Ontario. From its initial introduction a century ago in London, Ontario, the species now ranges over nearly all of northeastern North America.

European Skippers on Viper's Bugloss

In our area there are only two species of skipper whose wings are unmarked orange, bordered in brown: the European and the Least Skipper. The latter has much broader borders and a slightly different body shape (if you’re the sort to look that closely). I’ve seen a number of sources that describe the European as often ridiculously abundant in good habitat, sometimes outnumbering all the other skippers at the site combined. It’s also pretty widespread, since Timothy grass is found so commonly in both agriculture and other contexts.

European Skippers on milkweed

Interestingly, it’s apparently possible to sex male and female European Skippers by the forewing pattern. Males are supposed to have a narrow black stigma, which is a marking roughly in the center of the wing. In looper moths it’s a spot, often hooked in shape. In European Skippers, it’s more like a thin, short dash that runs from just beyond the shoulder to the middle of the wing. I searched through all the individuals I took photos of and only found one that was clearly a male:

European Skipper male