Photo of the Week – September 25, 2014

Dufourea

A small male bee (Dufourea marginata) waits hopefully for a female to come by his sunflower.  The Nature Conservancy’s Platte River Prairies, Nebraska.

Some people have the mistaken impression that I know a lot about bees.  Those who know me better understand that while I have a decent understanding of the ecology of bees and other pollinators, my identification skills are very rudimentary.  Fortunately, I have become friends with Mike Arduser, formerly with the Missouri Department of Conservation, who has a comprehensive knowledge of bees in the Central United States.  I sent Mike these photos a couple weeks ago and he generously identified the bee species for me, and provided a little background information as well.

The elongated mouthparts help identify this as a member of the genus Dufourea.  (But you probably already knew that.)

Mike says the elongated mouthparts help identify this as a member of the genus Dufourea. (You probably already knew that.)

According to Mike, the bee species I photographed on stiff sunflower (Helianthus pauciflorus) is a specialist feeder on sunflowers.  It’s a common late summer bee in the Great Plains, but rare further east in the tallgrass prairies of Missouri, Illinois, etc.  The bee nests in the ground and seeks out sunflowers for pollen and nectar.

Another male.

Another male.

During the morning when I photographed this species, I saw quite a few different bees.  Most of them were males, and didn’t seem to be feeding on sunflowers as much as just hanging around the edges of the flowers – apparently waiting for a female to stop by.

I almost always embarrass myself when I go out on a limb with bee identification, but this bee looks like a female to me.  Look at how much fuzzier the rear legs are - a common sign of females because those hairs help store and transport pollen back to the nest.  The bees in the other three photos above don't appear to have the same kind of fuzzy legs.  (Ok, now Mike or someone else can tell me how wrong I am.)

I almost always embarrass myself when I go out on a limb with bee identification, but this bee looks like a female to me. Look at how much fuzzier the rear legs are – a common sign of females because those hairs help store and transport pollen back to the nest. The bees in the other three photos above don’t appear to have the same kind of fuzzy legs. (Ok, now Mike or someone else can tell me how wrong I am.)

I’ve only been learning about bees for a few years now.  It’s amazing how many different species – and behaviors – I see, now that I’m looking for them.  Before sending the photos to Mike, I was able to recognize these bees as being in (likely) the same species, and figured most of the ones I was seeing were males, based on their behavior.  I still have much to learn, but paying attention to bees has certainly changed the way I see our prairies.  As I wrote last fall, I’m definitely looking at our prairies through “bee goggles.”  We’re not managing our prairie exclusively for bees, but they definitely factor in to our management decisions – not just because they are important themselves, but because promoting quality bee habitat is a great way to help ensure quality habitat for many other species as well.

Caterpillar Crossing

While driving through central Nebraska last week, I couldn’t help notice all the fuzzy creatures crossing the highway in front of me.  They weren’t raccoons, deer, or even voles.  They were tiny little caterpillars, and they were moving FAST.

This was a common site along Nebraska highways last week.

This was a common site along Nebraska highways last week.

I’m not entirely sure why the caterpillars are on the move, or where they are going.  Some internet searching turned up some university extension and similar pages that infer that the caterpillars are simply searching for a good place to spend the winter.  That could be true, but if so, they sure don’t seem to be doing it in any organized fashion!  There were just as many caterpillars crossing the road from left to right as there were from right to left.  It made me wonder if they just kept going back and forth…  (tiny little brains.)

As I drove, my scientist mind was spinning, despite my best intentions.  I kept track of the land cover types on both sides of the road, trying to figure out what kind of habitats the caterpillars might be leaving or heading for.  If there was a pattern, I didn’t see it.  The caterpillars crossed the road in places where there were soybean fields on both sides as well as places where there were miles of sandhills prairie on both sides.  They didn’t seem to be heading from high ground to low or from tall vegetation to short – or vice versa.

Another one.

Another one.

My photographer brain was also in full gear, which meant I had to keep stopping to take photos of the little buggers.  Fortunately, the roads I was traveling were not very well populated with other vehicles, but I still had to be discreet to avoid uncomfortable conversations.  Whenever I heard a vehicle coming I just pretended I was stopped to make a phone call or just to admire the view.  Otherwise, I would have ended up having conversations something like this:

“You okay?”

“Me?  Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh.  I just wondered why you were lying in the middle of the highway.”

“Um, yeah.  I was actually taking a photograph of a caterpillar.”

“A caterpillar.”

“Yeah.”

“In the middle of the highway?”

“Well, yeah.  I wanted to know why it was crossing the road.”

“Is that a joke?”

“No, but now that you mention it, it might not be a bad start to one…”

“So you don’t need any help?”

“No, I’m good, but thanks for asking.  I’m just trying to get some pictures.”

“In the middle of the highway.  On your belly.”

“Well, yeah.  You see, I’m a prairie ecologist.”

“Oh!  Why didn’t you say so?  Carry on then…”

Fuzzy caterpillar crossing the highway west of Taylor, Nebraska.
Anyway, I did manage to get some photographs of the commuting caterpillars.  I’m glad I did because seeing them up close made me realize there were several different species of them making the crossings.  I also (I can’t believe I’m admitting this) timed them to see how fast they were going.  What? I was just curious…

I wish the caterpillars well on their journeys.  There were surprisingly few smooshed caterpillars on the road, so I’m assuming the majority made it across the road.  I hope that means they found a nice place to spend the winter, or whatever they were looking for.

I also hope no one saw me photographing them.

Fuzzy caterpillar crossing the highway west of Taylor, Nebraska.

You probably don’t care, but in case you’re wondering, the caterpillars were making the 32 foot trip across the highway in about 80 seconds.  If my math is correct, that means they were traveling about 4.8 inches per second.  That’s moving right along for a tiny critter with stubby little legs!