First off, thanks to everyone who sent in answers to the cover species and/or blogged and tweeted about the contest! I got a great response from folks, and I was pleased to see how well everyone did. Even considering the lack of a full printed field guide to live-image moths. ;) I went through everyone’s entries, put your names in a hat, and the winner of a signed copy of the new Peterson Field Guide to Moths of Northeastern North America is…
Dan really outdid himself with the gift he brought me this afternoon. He walked into my study holding a large black-and-yellow butterfly and asked, “Is this a Giant Swallowtail?”
It was indeed. He’d caught it while it fluttered lazily at the phlox in our garden. What makes this noteworthy is this:
From Kaufman Field Guide to Butterflies, definitely my favourite butterfly guide.
We’re at the tip of the red arrow, roughly.
The one and only time I’ve ever seen this species was a number of years ago, perhaps 2005. It was visiting my mom’s garden at my parents’ old house in the Greater Toronto Area. The species is very rare in Ontario; it occurs regularly in small numbers in southwestern Ontario, but the farther east you go the rarer it seems to become. Of course, it doesn’t breed out this way, so all occurrences of the butterfly here are immigrants that either traveled here under their own steam or were blown here in a weather system. The Canadian Biodiversity Information Facility has a species page for Giant Swallowtail, on which they note, “In 1992, a stray was recorded in the Ottawa area for the first time following high winds resulting from a hurricane in the southern U.S.” Could today’s visitor have ridden up ahead of Irene?
These are beautiful big butterflies. They fly as if their oversized wings are too big to flap properly, like floppy clowns’ shoes. They float lazily in the air, never traveling very high, cruising from one spot to another with what appears to be hardly any effort at all. Dan said when he first saw it above the garden he initially thought it was a falling leaf.
They also have the distinct habit of fluttering while they visit flowers. I took a couple of photos of it in Dan’s hand then had him release it. It stuck around the garden and I followed it about, camera in hand, trying to get a good photo as it resumed feeding on the phlox, but it wouldn’t stop fluttering. In fact, it seemed to use its wings to push its head deep into the throat of the flower. Judging by the blurred wings I see in many of the photos on Google Image search, this wasn’t unique to our butterfly.
Down south, in its breeding range, this species is considered a pest of citrus orchards, especially oranges which has earned its caterpillars the name of “Orange Dogs”. It’ll also feed on Hop Tree (Ptelea trifoliata) and Prickly-ash (Zanthoxylum americanum) where citrus trees aren’t common, such as up here (though both species actually in the same family as oranges and other citrus). I don’t think we’ve got Hop Trees here, but we certainly have lots of Prickly-ash about. I wonder if their range might expand, or if it’s not the availability of food plants that limits its northern distribution, but rather something like average winter temperatures or snowfall affecting overwintering survival.
My camera’s battery died after I’d run off a dozen shots, and since it seemed to be hanging about the garden and not going anywhere I hurried in to grab my spare. But when I returned, it’d disappeared, presumably off into the meadow somewhere. Safe travels, buddy, and thanks for visiting!
First, thanks to everyone who’s sent me entries for the contest so far! It’s been great to see so many folks interested in moths (or at least interested in the book?). I’ve had a couple of people comment that they wanted to enter but didn’t have the time this week, so I thought I’d extend the deadline by a couple of days and give you guys the weekend to sort through the identifications. New deadline: midnight PST on Sunday, Aug 28. That’s 3am for EST readers. Winner will be announced on Monday. More details in the original post.
And on to other things. I had the guy above show up at my light a few nights ago. It’s a Brown Scoopwing, Calledapteryx dryopterata, Hodges #7653. The first time I saw one of these guys, the first year I was mothing, I was so excited to get it. Because, really, what a neat shape! I think even more than the bright colours, it was the weird shapes that I got really excited about early on (and still do, to an extent).
I’ve got this species at all of the houses I’ve lived since starting mothing, but for some reason I’ve always taken rather crappy photos. We actually had to solicit a photo for this species for the field guide because neither Dave nor I had one of sufficient quality. How could that have happened? It’s not even as though they’re particularly uncommon, either, such that we just never got the chance. They’re annual. In small numbers, yes, but still annual. So when I saw this guy at the light the other night I jarred him up so I could take a photo. Now I have one.
We’re pretty close to the north end of their range here. They’re not found up on the Shield, and we’re sort of at the edge of the Shield. Strangely, my annotated checklist for moths of Ontario says that the related species Gray Scoopwing is actually more common in the province. (Or perhaps “less uncommon” would be a better phrasing.) The Gray Scoopwing is found right up through the Boreal, too. And yet I’ve never seen a Gray Scoopwing, but I’ve seen Brown Scoopwing everywhere I’ve been. The Brown’s caterpillars feed on viburnam, while the Gray prefers honeysuckles. Lots of viburnum everywhere I’ve lived, so maybe I just haven’t had enough honeysuckle around.
And this second moth was a new one for me; or at least, I don’t have a photo of the species labeled anywhere in my file folders, which are pretty complete, if not that well organized. (Thank goodness for file searches.) It’s a Reniform Helotropha, Helotropha reniformis, Hodges #9453, and #93-2443 under the new numbering scheme. It’s associated with sedges found in wet habitats, which is sort of funny because our current home has the least amount of wet habitat near the house of the three places I’ve done the most mothing. If I’d have expected this species to show up anywhere it would have been at the lake house, but even my parents’ old house had some large vernal ponds and a good-sized swamp within view of the house. But the moths, they do whatever they want to do. It’s not the first time I’ve been surprised, and won’t be the last.
Dan’s been showering me with gifts lately. The baby snake a couple of days ago, and then yesterday he caught me a swallowtail butterfly. I had him hold it for a couple of photos and then asked him to put it on our hydrangeas on the off-chance it might not fly away right away. It didn’t, and I was able to get some nice shots of it.
We have two black swallowtails that occur here: Black Swallowtails (Papilio polyxenes) and black-morph female Canadian Tiger Swallowtails (P. canadensis). From the top, the easiest way to tell the two apart is the orange spot at the corner of the hindwing – in Blacks it’s got a black dot in it, while in Tigers it’s just solid orange. Also, Blacks will show that faded yellow band partly up the wing, while Tigers don’t. The extensive blue in the hindwing makes this a female Black Swallowtail – males will have a bolder mid-wing yellow stripe and much reduced blue.
Black Canadian Tigers are apparently rare, but at least up here in eastern Ontario Black Swallowtails are near the edge of their range and so not a whole lot more common. I would see Black Swallowtails from time to time back in the Toronto area, but I’m not sure if I’ve seen one since moving east. My mom had one at their place farther east from us this summer, though.
Black Swallowtail caterpillars feed on plants in the parsley family, Apiaceae. This includes, of course, parsley, but also a number of other cultivated and native species such as carrot, dill, fennel, parsnip, Queen Anne’s Lace and other plants that bear similar umbrella-shaped inflorescences. I haven’t seen caterpillars on any of my parsley plants, or on the wild parsnip or Queen Anne’s Lace in our area… but I haven’t looked too closely, either. The species overwinters in the pupa stage, which means they’ll be caterpillars through the fall, so I should keep an eye on our plants and see if anything turns up.
I was standing beside my raised garden beds yesterday, staking my indeterminate tomato plants for the third time this summer, when Dan paused in his lawn-mowing and a few moments later came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. He held out his hand as I turned around: in it he had lightly grasped a small, dark snake with pale neck markings. I exclaimed something like, “Oh, a Ring-necked Snake!” and dashed inside to grab my camera before he could say a word.
As it turns out, upon referencing my reptiles field guide, it’s not a Ring-necked Snake after all, despite its superficial similarities. Ring-necks (Diadophis punctatus; our subspecies is edwardsii) are the most well-known to bear this marking, but two other small snakes also do: Red-bellied Snakes (Storeria occipitomaculata; our subspp is occipitomaculata) and very young Northern Brown Snakes (Storeria dekayi dekayi; also known as Dekay’s Brown Snake). Although you can’t see it in these photos, this individual had a reddish belly, which rules out Northern Brown Snakes. The pale neck ring is solid in Ring-necks but broken into three large blotches in Red-bellies (occasionally not present at all, or only as a ghosted brown area, which has been the case with other individuals I’ve seen). So this is a Red-bellied Snake.
It’s also a baby. Look how absolutely tiny it is! Many snakes give birth to live young, and the Storeria are among these. Baby Red-bellies are born at 7-10 cm (3-4 inches) long; they’ll eventually grow to reach 20-25 cm (8-10 inches) as adults. Ring-necks are a little larger at birth, and grow to be longer adults. Litters (broods? clutches?) are usually around 7-8 snakelets, but can number as many as 20-30 (presumably from the very old, very large females).
Adults are largely predators on slugs, so are great snakes to have in one’s garden. They’re also usually nocturnal, spending their days hidden under logs or stones, so I’m not sure why this one happened to be out and about yesterday afternoon. I’ve read that Red-bellies are very docile snakes not typically given to self-defense, and indeed this little guy made no attempts to bite or threaten, wishing only to get away. Though perhaps that’s because he knew his itty-bitty teeth would have been unlikely to puncture my skin anyway.
I took a few photos then released him into the long grasses of the meadow, away from the mower. I’ve never seen a Ring-necked Snake so that would’ve been really cool, but it’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen a Red-bellied and I could count my total encounters with the species on one hand, plus this was such a little baby to boot, so it was still a great discovery.