BugFan Danielle sent these shots and wondered if the moth might be a Bee moth (Aphomia sociella) (the Bee moth is not to be mistaken for the amazing little Moth fly, of previous BOTW fame -?). The BugLady agreed that it could very well be, but she emphasized that if there is a secret handshake for moth identification, she hasn’t learned it yet.

Bee moths are in the family Pyralidae, the Grass or Snout moths (the family Crambidae shares the name “Snout moths,” and for the same reason – because the sensory mouthparts (labial palps) of some members are prominent and protruding ). This is the BugLady’s favorite Pyralid moth . 

Pyralids are mostly small, drab moths, some of which, like the Bee moth, take a toll on economically important plants or pollinators, some of which control unwanted plants, some of which are bred commercially as pet foods and bait, and many of which simply live out their lives under our radar. Pyralid moths may hold their wings flat at rest or may roll them () or may hold them out to the sides. They have tymbals (hearing organs), presumably so they can detect bats’ echolocation signals and dodge them. Their larvae live concealed lives in stems, fruits, or seeds, within tied leaf shelters, in the soil, or in nests of bees and wasps and sometimes mice. 

BEE MOTHS, also called Bumble bee wax moths, aren’t from around here. They were first reported in North America in 1864, and like the BugLady’s ancestors, they came over on the boat from Europe. They’re found in the northeastern quadrant of North America from Tennessee, north (plus Mississippi), and in a few western states and British Columbia. 

Their wingspan is listed as about 0.70 to 1.50 inches, which is quite a range in a species this size, especially since females are not much larger than males. They may be tan, reddish , or greenish . Males are more intensely-colored and patterned, and females have a dark spot in the middle of each fore (top) wing. They seem to have a little iridescence going on.

Courtship is complicated, involving wing-fanning and the deployment of pheromones by both females and males (whose scents may also repel competitors, but if that doesn’t work, fisticuffs may ensue). Males also produce ultrasonic sounds (songs). One source suggested that the pheromones are biosynthesized from the Aspergillus fungus eaten by the larvae in nests and hives. Using her sense of smell, a female locates exposed, above-ground nests of some social bees and wasps like honey bees, bumble bees, German yellowjackets, and bald-faced hornets and lays as many as 100 eggs there. She arrives in early summer, before the hive/nest population peaks and the hosts’ defenses strengthen. 

Several sources labeled the small, yellow larvae as “inquilines,” feeding on the nest detritus, waste, dead bodies, pollen and honey, wax, and fungus from within a tough tent of silk. But they’re not just harmless guests – they cross the line by damaging the nest structure with their tunneling and later with their dense webs and galleries , and as they get older, by eating the eggs, larvae, and pupae of their hosts (unusual because most moth larvae are vegetarians). In some cases, the larvae may end up relegated to a small section of a nest as it expands. They exit the nest in fall, overwinter as larvae, and pupate in spring. They are not welcome in commercial bee operations, and they seem more able to get a foothold in honey bee hives that are already compromised.

The feeding tent may protect larvae in case their hosts discover them; adult moths play possum when alarmed, which may serve them both outside and inside the host’s nest.

Sources danced around the severity of the impact that Bee moths might have on honey bees. They’re obviously a potential problem in commercial bee operations, but they’re not listed among the major offenders – various mites and lice and the larvae of another alien Pyralid called the Wax moth – and the internet didn’t light up with Bee moth Wanted posters. A blog from Yorkshire, England stated that “They are not a pest of honey bees.” An interesting point was made in one research paper about the connection between nearby commercial honey bee operations and the health of wild bumble bee nests. Researchers noted that competition with honey bees – sharing food resources – stresses bumble bees, and that having honey bees as close neighbors increases the risk of transferring disease organisms and parasites (like Bee moths) from honey bee hives to bumble bee nests, where their impact may be greater.

Thanks, Danielle! 

The BugLady

The post Bee Moth appeared first on Field Station.

Howdy, BugFans,

The original Buck moth episode was written in 2010, so the BugLady decided to check on the present status of the moths. New words, new pictures. 

One of the BugLady’s favorite moths is the Buck moth, whose story here in Wisconsin is a complex one. Buck moths are members of the usually-summertime, usually-nocturnal silk moth family Saturniidae, home of the Cecropia and Luna moths, but Buck moths are active on warm afternoons in mid-fall. They are handsome moths with a 2” to 2 ½” wingspan (females are a bit larger than males; males have feathery antennae and red/orange segments at the rear). There are 23 species in the genus, and some are spectacular, indeed , , .

One explanation of their name is that they are out during the hunting season when whitetail bucks are in rut. The Wild Silk Moths of North America passes on another explanation, which has been repeated in folklore since the early 1700’s. Dead bucks were found with a glut of maggots or “bots” in their throats. These eventually [allegedly] turned into “the finest butterfly imaginable, being very large with black, white and yellow stripes.” The theory further explains that “bucks breed their [the buck moths] caterpillars in their heads and blow them out their nostrils.” 

The BugLady finds Buck moths in the bog in October. Like many of their larger silk moth relatives, the adults have no mouthparts, do not feed, and get right at the task of ensuring another generation. Female Buck moths use pheromones to attract males, and the BugLady found tantalizing references to Buck moths being attracted to the webs of orb-weaving spiders because of the orb-weavers’ use of “pheromone mimicry.”

Researchers Andrew Warren and Paul Stevens investigated this phenomenon and found that males of some Hemiluca species (but not Hemiluca maia or H. nevadensis) are indeed attracted to pheromones in the webs of Argiope orb weavers (they worked with Black and Yellow Garden spiders). They considered whether the late-flying life cycle of the moths may have evolved as a way to avoid spiders.

When they are startled, they are as likely to fold their wings and drop into the vegetation below as they are to fly away. 

In the bog, the caterpillar host plant is Bogbean or Buckbean. Female Buck moths lay a cuff of eggs in fall, but not on Bogbean, because that dies back in fall, so she may use bog birch or she may just toss the eggs on the ground and let the caterpillars find their own food when they hatch in spring. Until they find some, they’re pretty catholic feeders. During the first half of their caterpillar-hood, the shiny, black larvae are gregarious . There is some speculation that a mass of dark caterpillars has both a thermal advantage (dark colors absorb the sun’s rays better and they share their minimal body heat) and an anti-predator advantage (diving into a mass of spiny worms is off-putting). Later, they go their separate ways. There are observations of caterpillars swimming from one food plant to another, a sight the BugLady would love to see, though other sources say that the caterpillars can’t swim. Caterpillars pupate in early summer and the adults emerge in fall – unless they decide to remain in the pupa until the following year. 

As for the caterpillars? Look but don’t touch. They start out bristly and get bristlier and spinier and more decorative as they age. Some of the spines are hollow and contain a poison that may cause initial nausea, pain comparable to a bee sting, itching/burning, swelling, and redness that may last more than a week, and the spines get more toxic as the caterpillar ages. First aid includes gently applying the sticky side of duct tape to the site to remove spines (good for cactus encounters, too), washing, ice packs and steroid creams or baking soda. At the risk of stating the obvious, several sources suggest that the best way to avoid receiving stings is to avoid handling caterpillars that have spines.

Into the taxonomic weeds with the Buck moth:

Wisconsin’s Buck moths are a bit of a taxonomic mystery. Most species of Buck moths are western. The Buck moth that occurs in the bog may be Hemileuca maia, the Eastern Buck moth, but it is more likely Hemileuca nevadensis, the Nevada Buck moth, or it may be the elusive Midwestern fen Buck moth Hemileuca sp 3, which may turn out to be nevadensis (if nevadensis is indeed a full species), or possibly a new species or an intergrade between nevadensis and maia. There are no morphological distinctions between the three (or four). The Midwestern fen Buck moth is listed as endangered/threatened in a number of Midwestern states despite the fact that its species has not been pinned down. Cutting edge entomology right here on BOTW, once again. 

But you get the picture – it’s a confusing group, and caterpillars are often identified by their food plants. The BugLady is proceeding on the assumption that these are nevadensis, because of the food plant. One theory is that nevadensis, which has an interesting checkerboard range extending north and east from southern California to a few spots in New England (), expanded its range into the Midwest post-glacially, and here it adapted to new habitats (areas with high ground water) and to new food plants (the fen-loving Bogbean, Menyanthes trifoliata, which is common in the bog). 

H. maia eats oaks; the western nevadensis eats willow and poplar; the more northern populations of nevadensis add Bog Birch, which is also common in the bog. Caterpillars from the Buckbean-loving group can eat other plants, but those not from the Buckbean group can’t tolerate Buckbean. And then there’s an interesting account of a population of larvae at a site between Milwaukee and Madison eating purple loosestrife. 

Since this episode was written in 2010, some work has been done by scientists attempting to unravel the relationships between H. maia and H. nevadensis and to figure out exactly who the buckbean-eating Buck moths are. Part of the impetus has come from New York state, which now recognizes fen-living Buck moths (Bogbean Buck moths) as either the subspecies Hemiluca maia menyanthevora (which is Federally endangered) or as H. iroquois, a full species. Same critter – dueling names. The Wisconsin Bog bean eating populations may be a separate lineage. 

The BugLady was once contacted by a guy who wondered if maybe she could find a Buck moth pupa and send it to him. That was a hard No. First, the pupal cases are usually hidden in the leaf litter on whatever high ground is available in a fen; and second, whatever species we have locally is, at least, a Species of Special Concern, and may be designated as Endangered or Threatened, so it would possibly be illegal (and certainly immoral) to provide him with a pupa, especially since she strongly suspected that he was going to kill and pin the moth when it emerged (a little detail that he neglected to mention). 

Whoever they are, if they were ever common, they no longer are, with populations sometimes restricted to small, isolated pockets within wetlands. They are threatened by the usual suspects – habitat loss (both wetland loss/degradation, and loss of specific habitat for the sun-loving Buckbean), invasive plants, pollution, and climate change.

As Karen Rachel Sime said in an article in The Revelator (Environmental News and Commentary from the Center for Biological Diversity), “The beauty of the mating flight, with hundreds of black-and-white moths set against the backdrop of fall colors, is a privilege to see, and I hope that it can be preserved.”

Stay tuned.

The BugLady

The post Buck Moth Update appeared first on Field Station.

2025��– The BugLady confesses that she rarely finds these Giant silk moths, either as adults or as caterpillars.��So rarely that some of these pictures are scanned slides/transparencies, from the olden days.��In the years since this episode was posted, she has written about another Silk moth, the Imperial moth��(which BugFan Mary found for her).��

2014 –��When the BugLady was in high school, a friend found an ovipositing Cecropia moth and gave her a twig with 9 pale eggs on it.��The eggs hatched into tiny, black fuzzy caterpillars, and the BugLady kept their cage – a seven-inch-wide cylinder of window screen fastened to a block of wood and topped by more screen (it doesn’t have to be fancy) – full of food and empty of frass (a reasonable housekeeping philosophy, overall) and they grew and prospered.��After a while she noticed that although food was not a limiting factor and escape was unlikely, the nose-count was, one-by-one, decreasing, and in the absence of actual carcasses, she suspected that they were cannibalizing each other.��Ultimately, a single caterpillar remained, and it spun a cocoon.

Cecropia, Promethea, Polyphemus and Luna moths are members of the Giant Silk Moth family, Saturniidae, and some are giants indeed, with wingspreads measuring 4” to 6” (there are classic Greek myths behind those names, and Saturnia, too, so dust off your old Edith Hamilton mythology book from freshman English and look ‘em up.).��There are smaller members of the family, including the Buck moth, of previous BOTW fame��Buck Moth (Family Saturniidae) – Field Station.��

Saturniids are��distantly��related to the Oriental moth that is used in silk production; some Asian and South American Saturnids are semi-domesticated and the silk spun by their larvae is harvested.��North American silk moths aren’t used to make silk, although the BugLady has read that cocoons have been unraveled by people desperate for leaders for fishing line.��The highly successful, invasive gypsy moth, in the tussock moth family, was originally imported to test its feasibility as a silk producer (what could possibly go wrong?).

The old Lepidopterists’ adage that “The more homely the caterpillar, the more spectacular the adult” does not apply to the Saturnids, remarkable moths with remarkable offspring.��Northern species tend to have a single brood per year, while their Southern brethren may have two or three.��Wherever they are, Saturnids overwinter as pupae in a state of��diapause��or suspended animation – they pupate in fall but their transformation into adults doesn’t begin until spring.��The caterpillars are large/huge – up to four inches long – and often have spiny tubercles, (which, except for the Io moth caterpillar, are harmless to the touch).��Luna and Polyphemus caterpillars can make a clicking sound with their mouthparts to warn predators, and if that doesn’t do the trick, the next step is regurgitation of a nasty substance.��Saturniid caterpillars feed on the leaves of a wide variety of trees and shrubs, and a few are serious defoliators.

Saturnids typically fly at night.��The fancy antennae sported by ��allow them to detect “come hither” pheromone signals emitted by the females.��He can zero in on her from more than three miles away, his antennal receptors picking up her “perfume” even when it has diffused to only a few molecules, and following it into the higher concentrations where she is.��Giant silk moths, having no gut and only vestigial mouthparts, live to reproduce, and the lipids that they store as caterpillars nourish them as adults.��Adults are fed upon by Screech Owls and bats; caterpillars have a number of parasites; and woodpeckers extract pupae from their cases.��Some species, especially the Luna and Cecropia moths, are parasitized by alien tachinid flies (of previous BOTW fame) that were imported to control gypsy moths but found the slow-moving Saturniid caterpillars easier prey.��

A CECROPIA caterpillar (Hyalophora��cecropia) that starts off tiny, black and bristly, progresses to small, yellow and bristly, and ends up as an astonishing, pale green creature that’s the size of your thumb and decorated with non-toxic, Technicolor knobs (though the caterpillar itself contains both a toxin and an antibiotic).��A startled Cecropia caterpillar may thrash about, releasing droplets of its poisonous “blood,” which may cause topical irritation and a runny nose and eyes in its victim.��It eats a wide variety of tree leaves including box elder, ash, apple, maple, willow, poplar and dogwood (the BugLady fed hers lilac and has photographed them on willow and box elder).��

Its gray, spindle-shaped cocoon is spun on along a branch or at the base of a tree trunk.��Several layers of tough silk, with air spaces in between, insulate the pupa from abrupt temperature changes during its transformation, and small birds and mammals might feed on it during winter.��A researcher in the Southeast distinguished between silken cocoons that were “baggy” and those that were taut, the author noting that the spinners of baggy cocoons were better at enduring prairie burns and surviving to emerge as adults.��

With wingspans of four to six inches and more, Cecropias are the largest moth in North America. They are found east of the Rockies and north of the Rio Grande in open areas with the caterpillar host plants nearby.��There can be some regional differences in appearance, and the Cecropia hybridizes with the Columbia moth in part of its range.��Sexual dimorphism exists in both adults and pupae, where females may be larger.

POLYPHEMUS MOTHS (Antheraea polyphemus) are found in woodlands, urban/suburban areas and wetlands throughout North America. They are slightly smaller than Cecropias and relatively unmarked, but in honor of the one-eyed Cyclops (see Edith Hamilton), they have a single eyespot in each hind wing. When alarmed, they flick their wings to expose the eyes more dramatically.��In the picture of the happy couple, the male is on the left (check out his antennae); the female, her body large to accommodate all her eggs, is on the right.��

The caterpillars eat the leaves of apples, cherries, oak, maple, grape, willow and more. They hide the evidence of their meal by severing the leaf’s petiole after feeding on it – no half-chewed leaf to attract the eye of a predator. According to Wikipedia, a caterpillar consumes 86,000 times its original weight in leaves during the two months between hatching and pupation! Its cocoon incorporates a leaf of their host tree, sometimes attached solidly to a twig, and ��and eventually falling to the ground to rest in the leaf litter. Squirrels can be serious predators of Polyphemus caterpillars.��

PROMETHEA MOTHS () are found in woodlands from the Atlantic to the Great Plains. The caterpillars bear a family resemblance to Cecropias (but lack the row of paired, plain yellow knobs) and also eat lilac and forest trees like ash, cherry, basswood, birch and maple, although populations may become food specialists, regionally. When it’s time to pupate, Promethea caterpillars reinforce the attachment of a leaf to its host plant, fold the leaf around themselves and then spin a cocoon inside. The “inside-the-leaf” part is a good camouflage strategy; the “last-leaf-left-on-the-tree” part, not so much.��

Adult male and female Promethea moths exhibit strong sexual dimorphism – the male is , and the female is reddish and can be mistaken for a . ��

The LUNA MOTH (Actias luna) lives in North America, east of the Great Plains. What an improbable moth for our less-than-tropical landscape! It has swallowtails, a wingspan of 4 ½” and a small, transparent eyespot.��Bugguide.net��says that the color of the wing borders depends on geography – the first brood in the South is edged with brown or pink, while subsequent Southern broods and the single Northern brood have yellow edges, but this adult was photographed in Ozaukee County, WI.��Go figure.

The bizarre reddish caterpillar in the netting is the normally-chartreuse ��of the exquisite Luna Moth.��It was captured halfway between the hickory tree whose leaves it probably nibbled (they like birch, alder, and sumac, too), and a thicket where it intended to pupate.��Some caterpillars undergo a color change when they have finished eating and are about to pupate; this one had a death-grip on the netting and was minutes away from pupating.��The cocoon is constructed in the leaves of the trees and is designed to fall into the leaf litter .

Edith Hamilton has something to say about Prometheus and Luna, too.

Caterpillars and cocoons, especially those of the Giant Silk moths, are dynamite tools for teaching kids about Nature, but the landlord (you) has certain responsibilities: 

• Do your homework – identify the species of caterpillar you have, know what its larval food is, and provide a fresh supply daily.��Caterpillars are notoriously picky eaters and will starve to death surrounded by the wrong food.��If you can’t ID it, don’t collect it.��If you already collected it, put it back where it was.��Exactly.
• Make sure the cage is roomy.��Think of a moth with a 4 to 6 inch wingspan pumping up and flapping its wings inside (the BugLady has seen unfortunate butterflies and moths with crinkled wings, unable to fly because they did��not��have enough room to stretch as their wings solidified). Make sure the top of the cage is large. That moth with the 4+ inch wingspan also has to be able to exit the cage.
• Keep the cage and cocoon at outside temperatures over the winter, and remember to check on it��very��frequently in spring and early summer so the adult can be released (if you’re likely to forget about it, leave the top off). At indoor temperatures, the moths will emerge earlier, when there are no other moths around to play with.

This year’s NATIONAL POLLINATOR WEEK celebration is June 16 to 22.��Check with a nearby Nature Center and see if they have any activities planned.

 Go outside – Look for Giant Silk Moths!

The BugLady

The post Giant Silk Moths Again appeared first on Field Station.

Greetings, BugFans,

This striking little moth was mentioned briefly a few years ago among an array of visitors to water hemlock flowers. Here’s the rest of the story. 

It belongs in the Clear-winged moth family Sesiidae, but it’s not related to the Clear-winged/Hummingbird moths (Sphinx moths in the genus Hemaris) that play peek-a-boo with the BugLady each summer around the wild bergamot, hovering prettily next to a flower and . It’s not uncommon for common names to be shared – in this case, shared because both groups have scaleless – clear – areas on their wings. There are more than 1500 species in the family Sesiidae worldwide, mostly in the tropics, and we have visited the family once before.     

The Peachtree borer moth is a member of a colorful genus 

,

,

, in a colorful family

,

of waspy-looking, day-flying moths (some species fly for only a few specific hours of each day).�� They have long, waspy legs and they can hover like wasps, too.��It’s called Batesian mimicry – a harmless species is protected by its resemblance to a harmful one – in the case of the Sesiids, adopting the aposematic (warning color) signals of a wasp.��

Some adult Sesiids feed on nectar, and the larvae of most species bore into vines or into the branches, trunks, bark, or roots of woody plants. Some species are big pests of orchard crops and landscaping shrubs and trees.

Females send out chemical signals (pheromones) to attract males. They “call” daily, and these calls may be sensed by males a half-mile away. They lay eggs on various parts of their host plants; the newly-hatched larvae dig in and feed, and many eventually pupate within their plant, but not before excavating an exit and concealing it with silk. Some species are larvae for two seasons or even longer, but adults live only for a few weeks – some for much less. Adult Peachtree borer moths live less than a week and do not eat. 

PEACHTREE/GREATER PEACHTREE BORER MOTHS (Synanthedon exitisoa) can be found in much of North America excepting parts of the Great Plains and desert Southwest and a few Eastern states (there’s also a Lesser Peachtree borer moth that’s mostly Eastern).

Their host plants are peach trees and other members of the genus Prunus, all sun-loving members of the rose family, and they’re considered the most destructive of the clear-winged borers – persona non grata wherever they’re found. In the wild, they use wild cherry, wild plum, and shadbush (Amelanchier sp.). 

As one website said, “I can’t believe they’re not wasps!” They are sexually dimorphic (two forms), and although , the . Their wingspans are 1 ¼”-ish (females are larger than males), and . Although they’re not aggressive, spider wasp stings can pack quite a wallop, but the moths, of course, don’t sting.  

The natural history of Peachtree borers is pretty-well documented. Adults emerge from their pupal cases between 8:00 AM and 1:00 PM and mating commences immediately – females lay more than half of their eggs on their first day as an adult. Eggs are deposited in cracks and crevices in the bark near the base of the tree or on the ground nearby, and her fertility is her Super Power – of the 400 to 900 (or more) eggs she lays, 97% to 100% will hatch! 

The larvae tunnel in and feed on the cambium (growth layer) of the roots and trunk just below ground level (a zone called the “root crown”), and the tunnels they leave behind intersect the plumbing of the tree, disrupting the flow of nutrients up and down the trunk and causing twigs and branches to die. They leave piles of frass (bug poop) at the entrances of their tunnel, and they may cause a thick, gooey sap to ooze from their holes in the trunk. While the tree damage is mechanical, the larval tunneling may introduce fungi and bacteria.

The larvae overwinter within the tree and resume eating in spring, doing more damage because they’re larger. They pupate within inches of the base of the host tree in a . After the adults emerge, . 

A PEACH OF A RABBIT HOLE

So – before peaches, Peachtree borers, a native species, hummed along in harmony with their universe, eating wild Prunus species. When, exactly, did they encounter their first peach? 

According to the lore of some Puebloan tribes, there have always been peaches in the Southwest – the Anasazi, who walked away in the early 1300’s AD, were said to enjoy them. 

Others say that they originated in China 2.6 million years ago and have been under cultivation there for 6,000 to 8,000 years. Peaches were grown in Persia (Iran) 2000 years ago (which explains the scientific name, Prunus persica), were spread west into Europe by Alexander the Great, and were brought by French/Spanish explorers/conquistadores to Mexico/Florida in the first half of the 1500’s (but there’s always a chance that they came over with Columbus, too). It’s likely that the peach wasn’t embraced by the Indians until a decade or so after its introduction, when the missionaries that followed the explorers arrived to set up shop. Once adopted, though, it spread like wildfire along native trading routes and became an important food. Indians who were forced to travel the Trail of Tears from the Southeast to Oklahoma (1830 to 1850) carried peach pits with them. Fifty years earlier, Washington had ordered his troops to destroy massive, mixed fruit orchards in Upstate New York in order to crush the Indians there.

Not only did they embrace it and incorporate it into their agricultural and land management systems, those consummate Indigenous plant geneticists developed many varieties that were quite different from European peaches. In the right soil and with lots of sunlight, peaches grow easily and can plant themselves, but it takes human intervention – pruning – to develop good fruit. Peaches grew so readily that several sources called them, along with the hogs that were also introduced by the Spanish, the first American weeds.

The bottom line – the Europeans who arrived to settle the Atlantic Coast in the 1600’s reported peaches among the bounty that the New World offered and assumed that the peaches were native. “Here are also Peaches, and very good, and in great quantities, not an Indian Plantation without them … one may have them by Bushels for little; they make a pleasant Drink and I think not inferior to any Peach you have in England…….” said William Penn in 1683. A few years later, early Naturalist John Banister wrote “…for the Indians have, and ever had greater variety and finer sorts of them than we… I have seen those they call the yellow plum-peach that have been 12 or 13 inches in girth.”   

A team of researchers located what they believe to be the earliest North American peaches at an archaeological dig between Atlanta and Augusta, Georgia, when they dated to 1520 to 1550 AD some peach pits that were found at the bottom of post holes (blowing out of the water the notion that peaches were introduced by the Spanish to St. Augustine, Florida in 1565 or to Mexico in 1562).  

Peachtree borers responded to the massive increase of host plants with a population boom of their own and were recognized as pests by the early 1800’s.

Yeah, yeah – the BugLady is a history geek, too.

The BugLady

The post Peachtree Borer Moth appeared first on Field Station.

Greetings, BugFans,

The BugLady usually times the Wildflower Watch episodes so that BugFans can rush out and see the flower in bloom with its attendant bugs, but it’s the middle of January, and the BugLady is ready for spring. At least the Technicolor part of it (with apologies to the Cardinals and Blue Jays at the bird feeder but not to the Mourning Doves and Juncos).   

Cup-plant (Silphium perfoliatum) is one of four Silphium species (prairie dock, compass plant, rosinweed, and cup-plant) that are typically seen in our tallgrass prairies. The size and shape and arrangement of leaves varies with the species, but all are tough and gritty leaves that are difficult for insects to chew on. They are in the Aster family, related to sunflowers. Our shortest Silphium, rosinweed, may grow four or five feet tall, but the flowering stalks of the other species may be well over six feet.

It gets its name from the way the clasping, opposite leaves are fused around the stalk at their bases, forming a cup. They’re called perfoliate leaves, and the plant looks like its square stem is growing through a series of single leaves.

Cup-plant was used medicinally for colds, rheumatism, fevers, stomach ailments, and back pains, on burns, to prevent nausea, and more. Young leaves were cooked (and were rated by one author as “acceptable greens”), and the resin was used as a chewing gum. 

In Where the Sky Began, John Madson writes about compass plants that, “[Pioneers] found that [the compass plant] produced a pretty good brand of native chewing gum. Drops of clear sap exude from the upper third of the stem and solidify with exposure.

It has an odd, pine-resin taste that’s pleasant enough, but it must be firmed up before it’s chewed. A couple of summers ago I tried some of this sap while it was still liquid. It’s surely the stickiest stuff in all creation, and I literally had to clean it from my teeth with lighter fluid.” 

[DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME]

Insects land on plants to eat them, to rest for a bit, or to hunt for other insects, but there’s a fourth reason they land on cup-plant, and that’s to drink. After a rain, the cup contains water that attracts a variety of critters to drink and maybe to cool off. But despite what was once written in a prominent Midwestern seed catalog, the water in the cups does not digest the plant and animal debris that lands in it, like a pitcher plant does.

Cup-plant is what a gardening friend of the BugLady’s used to call, “a thug.” It can tolerate dry and rocky soils as well as rich, damp ones, and it “spreads vigorously” by both seeds and rhizomes (underground stems) – so much so that it’s considered an invasive in the Adirondacks and in some Northeastern states. Some people keep it in check by removing the flower heads before the seeds disperse, but its flowers are much appreciated by pollinators (especially, says the Xerces Society, “by honey bees, bumble bees, and big, showy butterflies ….. and leafcutter bees may use the hollow stems as nest sites”), and its seeds are eaten by birds. Because it is so easy to grow and grows so densely, it has been considered as a potential source of bio-fuel in recent years.

Cup-plants are a great place to find insects:

CUP-PLANT WATER collects after a rain and often lasts a few days before it dries out again. 

RED APHIDS come to cup-plants to eat (and be eaten). These are probably in the genus Urleucon, many of whose species feed on members of the Aster/Composite family. Multiple generations adorn the stalks and leaves of cup-plant, all wingless (unless, from an aphid’s point of view, things get really crowded and they need to disperse) and all are female (through the wonders of parthenogenesis – virgin birth) until they produce a winged generation with males at the end of the season. Watch the video and see “collective twitching and kicking response”, a.k.a. “CTKR” ().   

Click on image thumbnails below to view larger images.

A SMALL BIRD-DROPPING MOTH appears to be sipping the water.

And so does the RED or POLISHED LADYBUG, which is one of the BugLady’s favorite ladybugs/lady beetles because of the wonderful pattern on its . It’s one of three species of “Spotless Ladybugs” in the genus Cycloneda. Ladybugs are serious aphid predators both as .

The BROCHYMENA, or Rough stink bugs, of recent BOTW fame, are plant-eaters. Their camouflage was designed for tree trunks, not green leaves.

Although this DADDY LONGLEGS looks like it came for the water, its camouflage will allow it to nab some unsuspecting, visiting insect. 

A LAND SNAIL takes advantage of some water and maybe rasps the cup-plant’s leaves looking for algae, fungi, and leaf-bits to eat.

A DIMORPHIC JUMPING SPIDER subdued something that had very long, slender legs. Another daddy longlegs?

The CICADA is one of the Dog-day/Annual cicadas in the genus Neotibicen. Unlike the fancy , these are our everyday cicadas. They take several years to develop underground, but the generations overlap and so they are present every year (which is why they’re called “annual”). They get their liquid by poking their strong “beaks” into twigs and drinking the watery sap, so the cup was just a perch for it.

CANDY-STRIPED LEAFHOPPER – what a gem!

FORK-TAILED BUSH KATYDIDS are found in grasslands, woodlands, and thickets across most of North America from Mexico well north into Canada. There are some . The BugLady loves their . They don’t yell “Katy-did” – in fact, .

The PRAYING MANTIS did not just come for the view.

TIGER SWALLOWTAIL – the BugLady’s favorite large, showy butterfly.

Not all of the cup-plant’s visitors are invertebrates – the BugLady often sees TREE FROGS cooling off in cup-plant water on hot summer days, and small birds drink water there.. 

This is the second in the Cup-plant Cosmos series (for the first installment). The BugLady has also seen paper wasps, yellowjackets, a two-striped grasshopper, mirid plant bugs, a variety of flies, a land snail, and a spring peeper on its flowers and leaves. 

For Northern BugFans, those colors are Green and Yellow. You remember them. 

The BugLady

The post Wildflower Watch – Cup-Plant Cosmos II appeared first on Field Station.

Howdy, BugFans,

Robber flies are a very cool bunch of flies that we have visited a number of times in the past. To appreciate the array of sizes and shapes and colors of Wisconsin robber flies from the tiny “,”�� to the bumble bee mimicking , to the Giant robber flies in the subfamily Asilinae (like today’s star), visit the corner of the Wisconsin butterflies website.

Besides being awesome-looking, these “bearded” flies (sometimes called Assassin flies) are predators, and they are not shrinking violets. In the Field Guide to the Insects of North America, Eric Eaton says that “Robber flies (family Asilidae) are to other insects what falcons are to other birds.” In an article published in the Bulletin of the Brooklyn Entomological Society in 1949, S. W. Bromley tells us that “Linneaus… gave this group of flies the name Asilus (the ancient name for flies which tormented cattle) in the belief that they were molesters of stock and cattle, a habit in which no robber fly today is known to indulge.”

Robber flies’ modus operandi is to spot an insect from their perch, grab it (and they will go after insects larger than they are), inject it with saliva to both kill it and soften its insides, and then perch and ingest the liquid through a tube called the hypopharynx. They eat lots of insects that are agricultural pests, but they haven’t been formally deployed as biological controls because they are equally likely to eat honey bees and Monarch butterflies.

There are about 1000 species of robber fly in North America, and the Missouri bee-killer (Proctacanthus milbertii), aka Milbert’s Proctacanthus, is one of 17 members of its genus north of Mexico. Bromley notes that “In Southern Alabama, Col. S. F. Blanton stated that it has received the common name of ‘Boo-hoo fly.’”

The spectacular Missouri bee-killer is found from sea to sea, and north and south of our borders in sort of a (the range maps in ��website come with a disclaimer that says, “The information below is based on images submitted and identified by contributors. Range and date information may be incomplete, overinclusive, or just plain wrong.”)��According to Bromley, “Milbertii has for its habitat fields and pastures where the soil contains a considerable admixture of sand.” It’s often found around goldenrod, and it’s pretty well camouflaged when it sits on the ground surrounded by dry goldenrod leaves. The Missouri bee-killer is a late-season robber fly, and it’s one of the species that the BugLady found in the dunes at Kohler-Andrae State Park.

There’s some variation in color – the beard is , but some individuals aren’t as maroon as the one the BugLady found. They are active and noisy fliers, and they like to rest on open ground.

Males are territorial and will chase rival males. Robber fly courtship is a no-frills affair – he approaches her much like he approaches prey. After , she works her abdomen barely into the soil or sand and . She visits flowers before ovipositing because for best results, she must take in both protein and sugar before she oviposits. The larvae live in the soil and prey on invertebrates they find there, and they may also nibble on decaying plant material. In some robber fly species, the larva lives in the soil for up to three years before it pupates.

In a 1975 article in The Great Lakes Entomologist, Norman T. Baker and Roland L. Fischer wrote that “P. milbertii exhibits a very interesting defensive reaction when attacked by another fly. The attacked fly nearly always spreads its legs and wings outward and upward and curves the abdomen upward. Generally the fly turns to face the attacker and then tilts backward allowing it to better fend for itself. Usually the wings are buzzed in short bursts.”

Although some closely-related robber flies do concentrate more on them, Missouri bee-killers are generalists whose diet doesn’t include many honey bees (only 4%, according to one study). and make up about three-quarters of their food, and they also prey on butterflies, beetles, bugs, bees (including ), and flies, and they’re not above a little cannibalism. In a study area in the Nebraska sandhills, researchers counted 437 Missouri bee-killers per hectare (one hectare is a little less than 2.5 acres) and 64,000 grasshoppers from 23 species per hectare. The flies devoured one to two grasshoppers per day, each, consuming an average of nearly 2% of the population of adult grasshoppers daily.

They fly fast, pick their prey out of the air, and land to feed. They wrap all six legs around it and administer a killing jab behind the prey’s head, often lying on their side until the prey is . They pierce their prey often as they feed in order to reach all its nooks and crannies, manipulating it with their forelegs. If you must handle a robber fly, handle it with care, because the larger species can jab painfully.

Baker and Fischer’s documentation of the daily routine of Missouri bee-killers included observations of its sleep habits. They wrote “These flies are quite active as long as the proper habitat is hot and sunny. When dusk approached, and the sun no longer shone on the habitat of P. milbertii, the flies cease all activity. Attempts to discover where they spent the night were nearly futile until it was discovered that the flies were resting in or under dead leaves beneath nearby trees or bushes. When the sun set the flies “entered a stupor” and became very inactive. If disturbed they would buzz their wings for a second or two and then again become inactive. Perhaps the buzzing will frighten a possible predator. The positions these flies may assume are often ridiculous. They appear to be dead. In one instance a male was discovered “standing on his head” and supported only by his front legs. Hull (1962) has also observed this behavior and interpreted it as ‘death feigning.’” Here’s an early .

Go outside – look for bugs – it’s not too late!

The BugLady

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The BugLady found this velvety, deeply maroon caterpillar at the Land Trust’s CESA site on a fine June day. It’s the larva of a Straight-toothed sallow moth (Eupsilia��vinulenta) (probably). (Full disclosure – the experts caution us that the only way to positively ID an Eupsilia caterpillar is by rearing it to an adult.)

Sallows are a group of Owlet moths (family Noctuidae) that are pretty hardy – depending on the latitude, moths may be active all winter, or overwintering adults may emerge from hibernation, fly around, and visit maple sugaring operations on balmy winter days when the temperature climbs above freezing (For a scenic side trip, see “ .”). One source reported seeing the moths searching for warmer shelters on sub-freezing nights, shelters they locate using their antennae.

In��Caterpillars of Eastern North America, David Wagner notes that sallows readily come to sugar baits (Eupsilia species “gather by the hundreds at beer or sugar or other baits”). He recommends to us Holland’s description of baiting moths, and the BugLady is grateful to the . They just don’t write science like that anymore.

The Moth Book by W.J. Holland was published in 1904, and with 48 (XLVIII) plates crammed with images, it was for decades the moth Bible. (The down side was that moths are pictured like the pinned specimens that they are, with their wings spread, rather than perched naturally.) By 1926, it had joined five other books in a set called The Nature Library, and the set that the BugLady grew up with her nose in probably belonged to her Mom.

Kirk Mona, in his Twin Cities Naturalist blog found an alternate name for the Straight-toothed sallow – he says “The name the Satellite comes from the little spots that seem to orbit like satellites around the larger spot on the fore wings. What a cool name! It is much cooler than ‘ .”

Adults are variable in color, from to brown, to . They mate in late winter and early spring. . Adults nectar on early tree flowers like red maple.

are somewhat generalist feeders, found on the leaves of an assortment of shrubs and trees like box elder, oak, cherry and maple. Wagner says that younger larvae are “new-leaf specialists that fashion crude leaf shelters in young leaves,” and they may use the abandoned shelters made by other caterpillars. According to Owlet Caterpillars of Eastern North America, older caterpillars are found on the in leaf litter on the ground and may feed on low-growing plants or on plant material (like old flowers and catkins) that’s fallen off of trees.

On another front, Monarch butterflies are starting to reach our southern borders.�� Here’s info about the . And here’s an

Go outside – look for moths (and listen for owls, too)!

The BugLady

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As she cruises through her moth books trying to identify what she’s photographed, the BugLady sees pictures of AMAZING caterpillars – not drab brown or grass-green caterpillars, but caterpillars that eschew camouflage in favor of some pretty gaudy togs (she has a Caterpillar Wish List that may require a Caterpillar Road Trip). For example: (All links on this page are to external sources.)

• The astounding Hickory horned Devil and and and and

Some brightly-patterned caterpillars advertise their toxicity, but others blend in because their color patches break up the outline of their body.

She thought she had checked off one of the caterpillars on her list this summer. It was head-high and moving smartly up a tree trunk at the Bog when she saw it, and her preliminary (and secondary) ID was a Unicorn moth caterpillar. Then she checked other genus members and changed her mind (and is hoping that she dodged a “publish in haste; repent at leisure” moment). It’s (probably) the closely-related Morning-glory Prominent (Schizura ipomoeae). (Ipomoea is the genus of morning-glory.) Unicorn caterpillars lack the striped head and that extra hump on mid-abdomen that the Morning-glory Prominent has, and the hairs on their abdomen are shorter. Here’s a , and .

No road trip is needed for the Morning Glory Prominent. It lives in deciduous woodlands across the US and southern Canada. One reference called it “common,” and it well may be, but both caterpillar and adult are awesomely camouflaged.

There are eight species in the genus Schizura in North America north of the Rio Grande. They’re in the family Notodontidae (the Prominent moths), a family that, according to Wagner in Caterpillars of Eastern North America “includes many of the most handsome and behaviorally interesting caterpillars in the temperate zone.”

Notodontid/Prominent caterpillars are pretty cool. They’re big, with large heads, and some sport a variety of lumps and spines and decorations on their sometimes-whimsically-shaped bodies. You can find them perched on leaves in the daytime. Maybe. A “work-around” practiced by some Notodontid caterpillars involves girdling a tree stem and spreading liquid on the cuts; substances in the liquid depress a plant’s usual chemical defenses to grazing.

Caterpillars in the genus Schizura have a gland that produces a mixture of formic and acetic acids along with “lipophilic” (fat-loving) compounds. This concoction is delivered as a spray that the caterpillar can direct with accuracy up to six inches away. The gland is located right behind the head, and the spray comes through a slit in the “neck” (though some sources said it was in one of the humps). In his write-up about the Unicorn caterpillar in Moths and Caterpillars of the North Woods, Sogaard says that these glands may be so large that they “can occupy a tenth of the caterpillar’s volume,” and the BugLady assumes the Morning-glory Prominent is similar. The lipophilic compounds help the liquid to spread on and penetrate the victim’s exoskeleton/skin (it can raise a painful blister on humans).

Adult Morning-glory Prominents have wingspans of 1¾” and they’re . A makes them look like broken twigs.

According to , caterpillars of the Morning-glory Prominent “feed on the leaves of beech, birch, elm, maple, oak, rose [including apple trees], and other woody plants; probably not on morning-glory.” Which is probably why it has alternative names like False Unicorn Caterpillar and Checkered-fringe Prominent. They are gregarious as young caterpillars and loners later – the young caterpillars feed on the leaf’s under-surface, skeletonizing it; and the older stages eat inward from the leaf edge, carving a half-circle out of the edge and curling into it, . They overwinter in suspended animation as pre-pupae, ready to pupate in spring.

The BugLady

The post Morning Glory Prominent Moth appeared first on Field Station.

It’s High Summer, and a lot has been going on out there. Many species have already peaked and disappeared from the scene, assuming, until next year, whatever form they spend the majority of their lives in. Others are coming into their own. Here are some of the sights the BugLady has seen in local prairies and wetlands.

ANTS are everywhere, foraging for proteins and carbs, including milkweed nectar to take home to their families. Some species of ants have workers that are essentially tanker trucks.�� Ants are no great shakes as pollinators, due to their slippery little bodies and fastidious grooming habits, and besides that, they’re pedestrians, so the pollen doesn’t travel far. (Family Formicidae)

BLUE MUD DAUBER WASP – Cup plants have “perfoliate” leaves that look like two “conjoined leaves” but are actually a single leaf whose base is joined around the stem, making it look like the stem is piercing it. For a few days after a rain, reservoirs made by the cup plant’s leaves hold water that’s appreciated by all sorts of small animals. The wasp uses mud to construct chambers for her eggs, but she doesn’t carry water to dirt, spit on it, and stir. She may just be thirsty. (Family Sphecidae)

STRIPED HAIRSTREAK – The BugLady found this small butterfly of dappled woods and edges while she was surveying water hemlock plants for an up-coming episode. Adults nectar on available flowers, and Butterflies of the Great Lakes Region��tells us that “Early in the morning, they will sip dew from leaves as they bask.” They’re not-very-common – “scattered lightly over our landscape,” says “The Butterflies of Massachusetts” website, “widely distributed although nowhere abundant.” The theory is that the eyespots on the hind wing confuse predators. (Family Lycaenidae)

HORSEFLY – Just a glamour shot of a horse fly, that’s all. (Family Tabanidae)

PARASITIZED – This dangling caterpillar was discovered in its infancy by a small, parasitic wasp that laid an egg in it. The wasp larva hatched, and then it ate and grew within the caterpillar, which was trying to do the same, but whose existence had been repurposed. When it was ready to pupate, the wasp dealt the coup de grace to its unfortunate host, exited, and spun a cocoon on the outside. As Darwin once said of parasitoids,��“I cannot persuade myself that a beneficent and omnipotent God would have designedly created the Ichneumonidae with the express intention of their feeding within the living bodies of Caterpillars.”

AMERICAN CARRION BEETLE – The BugLady has seen a number of adult carrion beetles flying around –black and yellow and big and buzzy – trying to convince her that they’re bumble bees, but she rarely sees the larvae. Adults lay their eggs on dead animals, and then stick around on the carcass doing “pest control” (eating the competition) before their well-armored larvae hatch and for a while afterward.�� The larvae will also eat other larvae they find on “their” carrion. (Family Silphidae)

EASTERN AMBERWING – The BugLady’s favorite insect is the Tiger Swallowtail, but the Eastern Amberwing is on her long list of second-favorites. This feisty 0.9” dragonfly has an attitude way bigger than its size. (Family Libellulidae)

A JUMPING SPIDER in the genus��Pelegrina (thanks as always for the ID, BugFan Mike) is another critter with attitude. You can see why jumping spiders have fan clubs. (Family Salticidae)

COMMON BUCKEYE – The BugLady has way more shots of this beautiful butterfly sitting on the ground than on flowers (when it sits on flowers, it prefers composites); it typically flits along 6’ ahead of her on mowed paths. It’s a Southern migrant to God’s Country, arriving in early summer, but the migrants produce a brood once they’re here. The and theare different – if you’re lucky enough to see one with its wings closed. If the Striped Hairstreak’s eyespots are meant to confuse, the Buckeye’s are meant to intimidate. (Family Nymphalidae)

CINNAMON CLEARWING MOTH – So cool!�� So speedy! Clearwing moths are in the Sphinx moth family Sphingidae; we have two species around here, and the BugLady has plenty of out-of-focus shots of each. Like chasing sprites.

ROBBER FLY – Some robber flies are small and shy, but��Promachus vertebratus is neither. At about an inch long, it was almost the same size as the Halloween Pennant dragonflies the BugLady was photographing at the same time. It makes “annoyed” sounds when you kick it up in the fields (attitude again). These flies prey on anything they can catch – the BugLady has a shot of one holding a Clouded Sulphur butterfly. (Family Asilidae)

WHITEFACE AND BLUET – The BugLady was stalking dragonflies at Spruce Lake Bog when a Dot-tailed Whiteface dragonfly grabbed a Marsh Bluet damselfly and sat down beside her. Something buzzed the duo loudly – maybe a robber fly – and the startled dragonfly released its prey. As the whiteface moved to a different perch, the damselfly shook it off and flew away. No damselflies were harmed to make this picture. (Families Libellulidae and Coenagrionidae)

Go outside – look at bugs!

The BugLady

The post Summer Scenes appeared first on Field Station.