Seabrooke

Great Spangled Fritillary

A week or two ago Dan caught this butterfly and brought it to me to show me, and in case I wanted pictures. I forgot to ask him how he caught it, but I’m going to assume it was with my sweep net that’s propped on the front porch (he has caught butterflies by hand before, though, early in the morning while they’re still cool. He’s got an amazing touch for holding these critters; I wouldn’t trust myself to do that).

This one is a Great Spangled Fritillary, Speyeria cybele. I tend not to think of fritillaries as very common because I don’t see them very often compared to other species, though they’re not exactly rare. The Great Spangled is among the most widespread and abundant, found across much of the continent. The name comes from the silvery white spots on the underside of the hindwing, visible when the butterfly folds its wings (see below). All members of the genus lay their eggs on various violet species (Viola spp.), which are certainly in abundance around here.

After I’d taken a couple of photos Dan let the butterfly go, but instead of flying away it turned and fluttered back to his body for a few moments. It’s possible it was attracted to the salts of the sweat on his skin, something that I’ve had happen on rare occasion.

Canadian Sphinx

We have quite a bit of phlox growing in our garden here; at least five patches that I can call to mind without benefit of actually walking through the garden. All shades: white and purple and pink. They’re pretty flowers, especially in large clumps, even if they are prone to fungal rusts. They’re also very appealing to sphinx moths.

Most of what we observe at the phlox are the diurnal Hummingbird Clearwings, Hemaris thysbe. These guys are regularly seen in the garden visiting the phlox, the blazing-star, the beebalm. I see them about in the afternoon and sometimes just at dusk.

And then, every now and then, we spot something different visiting the patch of phlox beside the front door, right as dusk is falling. Dan called my attention to this one this evening. This was a new species for the phlox: a Canadian Sphinx, Sphinx canadensis. In fact, I think it may even be new for me; I have no images of the species among my photo records (I lied and told Dan I did, when he asked if I’d seen it before, thinking that I’d got it at my parents’ old house years ago, but when I went back and checked my records it turned out I’d been thinking of something else).

It seems to be an uncommon to rare species but one with a fairly wide range through the northeast. The caterpillars feed on the rather disparate species White Ash and blueberry spp. We don’t have blueberry here, but there’s lots of ash about (and I guess at least some of it, therefore, must be White).

Sunday Snapshot: Newly banded

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

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

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.