Photo of the Week – December 4, 2014

When I photograph small creatures, I often try to position myself so I can look right into their eyes.  I like face-to-face images because they feel very personal.  One of the most important catalysts of conservation is the personal connection people feel with nature and the species we share the planet with.  It’s one thing to see a caterpillar from a distance, but when you look into its eyes…  well, they’re just so darn cute!  It’s a lot harder to step on something or plow up its habitat once you’ve met it face to face.

One of the most charismatic species I know is the snapping turtle.  It’s not hard to photograph a snapper in  way that evokes personality and character.  Here’s a photo of a small snapping turtle we found earlier this year while exploring one of restored wetlands.  We picked it up for just a minute to examine it more closely.  Before I set it down, I took this portrait.

A small snapping turtle.  The Nature Conservancy's Platte River Prairies.

A small snapping turtle. The Nature Conservancy’s Platte River Prairies.

In case you missed it a few years ago, here is a link to a previous post about a snapping turtle that was causing consternation among the cattle at our family prairie.  That one had some character as well…

On a somewhat related topic, I’m starting to put together my annual “Best Of” slide show of photos from 2014, just as I did in 2013 and 2012.  If there are any photos from this year’s posts you want to lobby for, feel free to do so in the comments section of this post.  Otherwise, I’ll just choose my personal favorites.

Wanna Know What Really Makes A Sunflower Lose its Head?

Nearly-decapitated sunflower heads, scattered across the prairie.  Oh, the devastation!  Who could be carrying out such an evil plan?

(Ok, more accurately, a weevil plan?)

Weevil damage

I found this sad-looking stiff sunflower (Helianthus pauciflorus) during a prairie hike back in August.

Maximilian

Stiff sunflower was not the only species being targeted.  Maximilian sunflowers (Helianthus maximiliani) were also dangling…   This photo was taken just a few minutes after the first.

The head-clipping weevil, aka the Silphium weevil (Haplorhynchites aeneus) is a small dark-colored weevil, less than a centimeter in length.  Females girdle the stems beneath sunflower heads – as well as other plants such as compass plant and rosinweed – so that the flower head falls over, but usually doesn’t drop completely off, at least not right away.  Once a flower has been knocked over, other weevils usually show up – male and female – to feed on pollen, mate, and lay eggs in the blossom.

Doing some research for this post, it was hard for me to confirm what happens next, but it seems the eggs usually don’t hatch until the flower eventually falls to the ground.  The larvae feed on the decomposing flower head and then burrow into the earth to overwinter.  It is thought that clipping the flower before laying eggs on it might make the flower a less attractive place for other insects to lay eggs, saving more food for the weevil larvae.

I have rarely seen the head-clipping weevil itself, and had never photographed it.  On the day I photographed the sunflowers shown above, though, I finally saw one fly off a stem and managed to get a documentary photo of it.  Look at all the sunflower pollen stuck to it!

Before that August hike, I hadrarely seen the head-clipping weevil itself, and had never photographed it. Not long after looking at the sunflowers shown above, I finally saw a weevil fly off and managed to get a documentary photo of it when it landed. Look at all the sunflower pollen stuck to it!

The clipping behavior by weevils can cause problems for those raising sunflowers commercially, but I’ve never seen it impact enough flowers to cause any serious issues in prairies.  I’m guessing that some of you readers will know much more about the head-clipping weevil than I do, and I hope you’ll contribute additional information in the comments section below.  Thanks in advance!

So, to summarize the weevil plan:  The weevil female nearly decapitates a flower and then mates with weevil males and lays weevil eggs right on the mortally wounded blossom.  The weevil babies eat the dying flower and then burrow into the ground until the next spring.  Then they make a triumphant return and hatch their weevil plans once again.  And who do we have to thank for finding out about all of this?

Weevil scientists, of course!