April 2008 – Page 3 – Seabrooke Leckie

Early spring moths

I hadn’t intended for yesterday’s post to ramble on quite so much as it did. When I sat down to start to write, I had only planned for a single introductory paragraph explaining the background of my interest in moths. Somehow, when I place my fingers on a keyboard, they get carried away, and words just start to flow out.

So the initial purpose of yesterday’s post was to talk about the start of the mothing season. On Monday evening the weather was reasonably warm and clear, so I visited TTPBRS for an hour or so and hung up my sheet and blacklight to see if I could draw anything in. I just got a single moth, but I was pleased to get anything at all given that it was still so early in the season. The first moth of spring was the above individual, a Speckled Green Fruitworm moth. It’s a widespread and abundant species, and one of the first to come out in the spring, even though they overwinter as pupae, not adults. They’re extremely variable, with individuals ranging from the buffy-brown of this one, to grayish, to whiteish.

This variability can really throw me off with some of these species ’cause you think you’ve got something different or special and it turns out to be just another fill-in-the-blank-here. And then you’ve got other species that look so similar to each other they can be hard to tell apart. I guess that’s not all that unlike birds. You’ve got the variable Dark-eyed Junco with all its different-coloured subspecies, which can all occur together in some parts of the country, and then you’ve got the Willow/Alder Flycatcher complex, where the two species are only really distinguishable by song.

Moth number two was the top introductory photo, a day-flier called The Infant, found at my parents’ the following day. Being out in mid-day, basking with its wings spread in the sun in the lee of the barn, being brightly coloured, and then also the way it fluttered, it all reminded me of a butterfly, but it wasn’t any butterfly I was familiar with. Of course, the shape and position of the wings, and the lack of club tips to the antennae, all gave it away as a moth in the end. It’s a common and widespread early moth of the north, usually found near birch, its foodplant, and could be seen (along with a few other day-flying early-spring species) on a hike in the woods on a warm afternoon.

That evening I set out a couple of sheets hoping to perhaps catch a few moths. Well, was I ever surprised to eventually get not just a handful, but 50 moths to the sheets in four hours after dusk. Of this 50, 24 were the above species, by far the most common of the evening. This may be because their larval food is maple, birch, cherry, and a few other deciduous species, all quite common in the forests around my parents’ (in fact, the one sheet was actually hanging from the branches of a maple). They overwinter in the soil and pupate to emerge in early spring. The females are flightless, lacking wings altogether, and resemble something like a cross between a spider and a beetle.

The above two moths are of the same species, The Half-wing, so named because females of this species are also flightless, but sport cute half-sized wings to at least resemble a moth. Yet another species whose flight period is restricted to early spring, these were caught in moderate numbers at the sheets, as well, the second-most common with 18 individuals. The species has two colour morphs, the white individual at left, and a dark melanistic morph, at right. I caught two of the dark guys, and originally thought they were a separate species before I looked it up. They’re closely related to the Spring Cankerworms, though separate in genera.

I caught a few other less common species, as well, including the above Morrison’s Sallow, which overwinters as an adult (this is a particularly ratty individual), and a few “micromoths”, little guys less than an inch long, which are more challenging to identify (so I haven’t yet).

The weather has cooled down, and we may not have another good evening for moths for a little while, though the long-range forecast suggests next weekend may be fairly warm. In the meantime, I’ll be looking for some of the day-fliers on the sunny afternoons.

Going beyond birds

Silver-spotted Tiger Moth

I’ve been birding since 2000, when, as a first year student in university, I decided I wanted a job in my field rather than a boring office job, and was offered an opportunity to work for the Toronto Zoo doing an “inventory” of their breeding bird community. This is not a long time, compared to many birders, particularly given my age. I came into birds late in life; most serious birders I’ve met have started either in their early-teens (13-14 seems to be the age something twigs for a lot of people), or as a young child. Myself, with the rural setting for my childhood, I was certainly aware of the birds, and knew all the common backyard stuff, but the birds that you have to go out to look for in order to see I didn’t get to know till that job at the zoo.

I have had the advantage of having spent a very large portion of the last five years out in the field, nearly every day. When you’re out there seven or eight hours every day you hone your identification skills rather quickly. Just about anything likely to be encountered on an average day at any time of year here in southern Ontario I would feel pretty comfortable identifying now, by sight or even just sound. Some of the less common birds of our region I could identify by sight but perhaps not sound, and I will be the first to admit that some groups (gulls, for example) I generally stink at – though mostly for lack of interest in learning (nothing against gulls, but they just don’t hold my attention for very long).

Lunate Zale

So what do you do when you’ve reached your desired level of proficiency with something? Well, you could try to hone it further (suppose I could buckle down and learn those gulls). You could try investigating deeper (learning to identify the different subspecies). You could travel to new areas (works best if you have money and time to travel). Or you could branch out into something different.

White Underwing

Lacking money and any real desire to get nit-picky with bird identification, I’ve opted for the latter. Even early I started learning butterfly identification (the obvious second choice to a birder – you’re standing there watching the birds with butterflies dancing about your feet anyway), as well as odonates (the dragonflies and damselflies). I got familiar enough with these groups to be able to identify all the common things. But for whatever reason, I never really got caught up in them the way I am with birds.

Pale Beauty

Then, last summer, I traveled west, to British Columbia, for a job. The job didn’t work out quite as planned, and I spent three weeks staying with the organization’s gracious president, twiddling my thumbs and waiting for word on the situation. While there, I discovered he had a blacklight. And I thought, what the heck, let’s throw a sheet up and see what I get.

Violet Brocade

Well, that hooked me. I don’t know what it was, specifically. Perhaps the amazing diversity and beauty of the moths that came in. Perhaps the mystery of these nocturnal creatures that makes them so hard to observe. Perhaps the fact that they’ll come to you, wherever you are, and you never know what you’re going to get. TheMothMan has well over 500 species of moths recorded for his little (and I do mean little) urban Toronto backyard. Perhaps it’s that moths are everywhere.

Ailanthus Webworm

While I don’t think they’ll ever trump birds on my priority list, they may eventually run a close second… we shall see (I dislike making such bold predictions). So far, with the exception of those nights in British Columbia and one hosted by TTPBRS in early September, all my “mothing” has been done in the off-peak (for moths) late fall and, now, early spring periods. The moths are just starting to come out now, on the warmer nights, but these cool-weather moths are generally more drab. The flashy species are mostly found in the warmer months, and I’m rather looking forward to looking for them in the next few months.

Unidentified Eucosma sp.

Doesn’t matter where you live, attracting moths is pretty easy, and I almost guarantee productive (unlike trying to bird from your suburban backyard, where House Sparrows and starlings are your most likely guests). Any night where the temperature is warm (>10C/50F), hang a white sheet from a clothesline or against the side of your building, and set up a light in front of it. Although a regular white bulb will work okay, bulbs that emit rays in the UV spectrum, such as blacklights (cheap, less than $5 at Home Depot) or mercury vapour bulbs (considerably more expensive but brighter so will draw more in) will give you the best success, since the moths are attracted to the UV wavelengths. Make sure your white sheet is the sort that glows in the dark – some types of fabric don’t phosphoresce, which decreases its effectiveness.

Lempke’s Gold Spot

The above photos are all ones I took either in British Columbia, or at the TTPBRS moth night. They’re only a few of what I have, primarily of some of the brighter species. If you’re interested in seeing some of the rest of my extremely modest collection of moth photos (mostly from BC at the moment, and taken with flash; I’m refining my technique), visit my moth set on Flickr.

A sweet treat

Yesterday I had the opportunity to spend the morning at the TTPBRS research station. It was a lovely day, and as I’d spent the weekend indoors tackling other (interesting, but not outdoor) projects on my computer, it was nice to get outside for a while. It was a busier morning than I gather they’d had over the weekend, and the final tally of birds banded was a little over 50. The species included many Song Sparrows (while I was in the bander’s seat, anyway, it seemed like every other bird I banded was a Song Sparrow), juncos, and Golden-crowned Kinglets, with a few other odds and ends such as Eastern Phoebe, Ruby-crowned Kinglet, and American Tree Sparrow thrown in for variety.

Also among them were two Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers, including the striking male pictured above (in sapsuckers, males have a red throat, while in females it’s white). It is possible to age most birds based on a number of criteria in their wing and tail feathers, but for most songbird species you can only really determine whether during the previous breeding season (so, last summer) they were an adult or a young bird. Woodpeckers are an exception to that, you can usually determine back one year further. In the case of the above male, he was an after-third-year – meaning that 2008 is at least his fourth (“after-third”) calendar year, if not more (birds are generally aged according to calendar year to make it easier to keep track of). You can’t determine his age with more precision than that, but it still means we know he was hatched either in or prior to 2005. So he’s a good old boy.

Later in the morning I spotted another bright male who flew across my path and perched on the trunk of a birch tree. I couldn’t see his legs, so I don’t know if it was the same one as we’d banded earlier. As I watched him, he systematically checked out a set of sap wells that presumably he had drilled earlier. Although I couldn’t see it from my distance, I presume he lapped up what sap had oozed from the holes since last time he visited. He was only there less than a minute, but he checked out all four holes.

Look at him stretch that neck to reach the last one without moving!

Once he left, I went up and checked out the tree he’d been at.

He’d drilled five holes, which were all running slightly, although the sap trails on the bark weren’t substantial. I’m not sure why sapsuckers drill their holes in such a neat line like that, but I would assume that it has something to do with ease of checking them (like in the above photos; he didn’t have to move to reach them all). Probably the sapsuckers won’t tell us if we ask them, so we’re left to make our best guess.

He landed on another tree not much further from the first which, when I went to check it, had a single hole drilled into the trunk. Right next to it, however, was one that was half-started. What I find particularly interesting is how a woodpecker is very methodical in its drilling – it’s not like driving a nail where you keep pounding the same spot. Instead, and as you can see here, they actually chisel out a section of the bark which they can then chip off, exposing the softer wood underneath (which is easier to hammer through). I guess after he’d done one on this tree he was either disturbed, or decided that the sap from this one tasted funny.

Underneath the fresh work you can see a couple of old, scarred-over wells from years past.

Here’s another tree that was visited in years past. There’s probably a number of different years represented there, judging by the relative scarring of some holes to others. Sapsucker holes are often square or rectangular, rather than round, which you can see well on this tree. Nearly all of the trees with sapsucker wells (old and new) down there are birch. The trees around the station are probably 90% birch and cottonwood, but the cottonwood doesn’t seem to appeal to them at all. My guess would be that there’s enough of a difference in the thickness of the bark between birch and cottonwood, and there’s enough birch in the area, that they can afford to be picky about the trees they choose.

An old section of sapsucker wells, now so scarred over it’s forming a cracked swelling in the trunk. The wells don’t do serious damage to the tree, aside from this sort of thing. It’s not all that different from tapping maple trees for their syrup. The main concern would probably be the potential for the tree to be infected by a fungus through the open wound, and even that is rare.

Aside from the obvious benefit to the sapsucker, the sap wells are often visited by other creatures as well, including many nectar-feeding insects and hummingbirds. For these guys the sap provides a sugar-rich source of food in the early spring, before many flowers have started blooming, and can often be invaluable for their survival through that period. I have yet to see a hummingbird visiting a sap well in the spring – by the time they reach us here, in early May, there’s already a fair bit blooming.

Recognizing excellent blogging

I was flattered to receive an Excellent Blog Award from Ruth of Body, Soul and Spirit a few days ago. Ruth lives not too far from the area I grew up (and where my parents still live, the location of a lot of my posts), near the town where Blackburnian grew up, an area I’m quite familiar with. So I was delighted to discover her blog a while ago. This award could easily be reciprocated.

The award is basically another meme, but it’s another one that I’m happy to play along. The rules are that those who receive the award should pass it on to ten blogs that they themselves enjoy reading, but I won’t enforce that. If any of my awardees want to recognize blogs themselves, I think that’s great. There’s nothing like receiving praise from others to boost your self-esteem!

I have 45 blogs bookmarked in my browser, all of which I visit daily or on a regular basis (although it can take a while to make it through that whole list after I’ve been gone a couple days!). Picking out just a handful to nominate is a challenge! I will bypass the well-read blogs like Julie Zickefoose and Bill of the Birds, although they would definitely be candidates. I suspect most people know about these ones anyway. Instead, here is a selection of smaller blogs I enjoy reading (tough to pick, and I had to leave out many!). In no particular order:

A Passion for Nature
Jennifer has a blog style similar to my own – investigative, posting about neat things she finds, a mix of personal observation and factual information. Hers was one of the first blogs I found, listed in my WordPress tag surfer as having similar tags to what I was posting about. She’s in western New York – not too far from myself.

Nature Remains
Nina writes about nature on her wonderful country property in southwestern Ohio. She has a beautiful poetic writing style that really captures the feeling in what she’s seeing. Nina’s was also one of the first blogs I found, and I continue to enjoy it.

Wrenaissance Reflections
Wren is located in Michigan, also not too far from my home. She has a great collection of observations on her surroundings, including recently a trio of Sandhill Cranes that set up shop in her backyard.

The Moth Man
A friend of mine here in Toronto, the Moth Man is currently on winter hiatus (there not being many moths around to blog about). He makes great posts about the moths that come to the lights he sets out to catch them, with fabulous photos. There’s a whole ‘nother world out there at night, and he gets some really neat stuff. You can browse his archives till the moths start flying again in a few weeks.

Wanderin’ Weeta
Susannah resides in the Fraser Valley of British Columbia. I love BC and the west coast, despite only having been out there a few times, and I enjoy reading her observations from that part of the world.

Rock Paper Lizard
Hugh is also from BC, but from the coastal mainland. He’s originally from Toronto and shares some interesting insights that sometimes mention both locations. His posts are often observational, often informative, and always enjoyable to read, particularly for someone from such a different landscape.

Roundtop Ruminations
Carolyn lives halfway up a mountain in the Pennsylvanian forests. Hers is a unique perspective of nature due to her location – eastern, but up in the hills. She shares some lovely photos and observations from her world.

Sycamore Canyon
Kathie writes from Tuscon, Arizona. This is another part of the continent where I’ve only been once but absolutely loved the place. Her nature is so completely different from what surrounds me that it’s like stepping into another world to read her posts.

Beth’s Stories
Beth’s is another of the blogs that I discovered early and have enjoyed reading since. Hers is a nice mix of personal stories and nature observations, as if she’s sharing her home with you, not just her Maine backyard.

Mary’s View
Mary is in North Carolina, and writes similarly to Beth, of both home and nature. Being much further south, I’ve enjoyed watching spring progress there while still snowed in here.

Drawing the Motmot
Debby is an artist from Oklahoma, and posts a lot about her sketching and paintings, as well as the natural world around her – sometimes incorporating both into one. As a fellow artist I really enjoy seeing and reading about her work.

The Ohio Nature Blog
As his blog title says, Tom is located in Columbus, Ohio. He’s a wonderful photographer and complements his posts with some great images. He often includes interesting tidbits and useful tips on different things.

Okay, so that’s 12. I told you it was hard to narrow them down! I hope you enjoy some of these as much as I have.

Fuzzy fungus

I discovered this neat little fungus growing on some beaver-downed logs at the research station earlier this week. It was unusual in that it was fuzzy, and it caught my eye because of the attractive lobing of the growths into neat leafy shapes. I went back once the sun was high enough to peek over the trees and took a few photos.

Unfortunately, the field guide I had used to identify the fungi back in January had been a library book, so I didn’t have it on hand. And trying to find the identity of something is much aided by a field guide like that. There aren’t any good, complete references online (or at least, if there is one I didn’t stumble across it in my searching). However, I finally discovered something that closely resembled my fungi while browsing search results from ForestryImages.org.

Sure enough, further investigation reveals it to be Schizophyllum commune, or the split gill fungus. The genus name literally means “split leaf”. And naturally, the key identifying feature of this fungus, the split gills, I had no photo of. I had peeked under the cap to check out whether it was gilled or pored, determined that it was gilled, and left it at that. Who knew it was that important?

I actually do have an image of the split gills, above. This is a crop-down from one of the larger photos, which just happened to have one individual curling up enough to expose its underside to the camera, which was nearly overhead. It actually looks more like paired gills, rather than split, with the ridges radiating in twos out from the centre. Schizophyllum is the only genus with this characteristic, and is in fact so unique it has its own family, Schizophyllaceae.

There’s a handful of species in this genus, but Schizophyllum commune is by far the most common. It’s found across North America, and in fact occurs on every continent except Antarctica, where there’s no wood for it to grow on. It superficially resembles the commonly-found bracket fungi that grow on trunks and logs, but has these “gills” instead of pores. The gills aren’t actually spore producing the way they are in true gilled mushrooms, but are instead simply folds of tissue.

Similar to the Mycena corticola I posted about in January, these fungi are marcescent: they can dry out over the winter months or during periods of low moisture, and then come back to life at the next rains. This adaptation is part of what makes this fungus so successful around the world. Rather than growing new fruiting bodies each year, the fungus’ “roots” (the mycelium) only have to produce one growth which will last throughout the year, even during dry spells.

Fungus reproduction is a complex thing, where compatibility of external mating structures is less important than compatibility of genomes. In order to reduce the likelihood of inbreeding, a fungus can only “mate” with other fungi that have a different DNA sequence (allele) at a gene location (locus) from their own. To compare to humans, it’s like blue-eyed people only being able to mate with brown-, green-, or hazel-eyed people, but not other blue-eyed people. In fungi, there’s usually two loci used in mating compatibility, and each locus has multiple alleles. In the case of Schizophyllum commune, there’s more than 300 alleles at the first locus, and over 90 at the second – resulting in more than 28,000 allele combinations. So instead of the two sexes found in vertebrates (male and female), there’s 28,000 sexes in this species of fungus! This enormous number means any given individual will be compatible with over 99% of the rest of the population (vertebrates are only compatible with 50%).

One other wild thing about this fungus – it doesn’t just stick to rotten logs. There have been a number of reports (though very rare) of the spores of this fungus (presumably inhaled) infecting the respiratory tract of humans. For instance, this poor woman had the fungus actually growing in her sinus cavity! Of course, it probably didn’t have these lovely fan shapes inside her nose, and it was identified using DNA sequencing. In another, the fungus had grown through the soft palate of a child and was forming fruiting bodies in her sinus. I can’t find the actual paper on that one to determine whether they were actual mushroom-shapes, though all the sites that mention it sure make it sound that way (this site is where I read it first). Others document lung, airway, and even brain infections.

So be careful not to inhale too deeply when you bend over to check this neat little fungus out…