Here’s your last reminder of our Platte River Prairies field day this Saturday (July 9). The weather looks great and it should be a fun day. I hope to see some of you out there!

A couple weeks ago, I found myself at a recreational area in Omaha described very accurately on its website as “a 250-acre lake surrounded by 940 acres of trees and grasses”. When Kim signed up for a long trail race there, I’d hoped I’d be able to find some prairie to wander around in while she ran all day. No such luck. Most of the grasses turned out to be smooth brome or reed canarygrass and both the grassland and woodland areas were heavily infested with autumn olive and other invasive shrubs and trees. Undaunted, I found a draw between the race path and the lake where a large patch of common milkweed had embedded itself within a matrix of invasive grasses.

My role for the day was to be available to Kim at the end of every three mile lap so I had some time between laps to explore with my camera. The light was decent for the first couple hours of the day, so I conducted an informal survey of the fauna hanging out in the island of milkweed flowers within a matrix of yuck. I was really curious to see how many insects would be able to find their way to the isolated milkweed patch, especially those species that are milkweed specialists.

Most people associate milkweed with monarch butterflies, but there are lots of invertebrates that take advantage of milkweed nectar and a surprising number that can also feed on the leaves, despite the toxic white latex inside. I did see an adult monarch nectaring in the patch (didn’t get a photo) but didn’t find any monarch caterpillars. There probably were some, I just didn’t happen across any. Lots of other insects were present, though, which was a pleasant surprise.

The nectar produced by milkweed flowers attracted a number of small hungry animals, though not many bees or butterflies. Soldier beetles were, by far, the most abundant of those, crawling around the flowers and picking up pollinia (little gel packs of pollen) on their feet. If you aren’t aware of the fascinating story of milkweed pollination, you can read this older post I wrote on that subject. It’s a story worth knowing. Briefly, milkweed pollen is transferred when insects accidentally slide their leg into flower slits, pull out milkweed pollinia, and then slide the same leg and pollinia into the slit of a different flower to complete the process. It shouldn’t work but it does.

A few honey bees were visiting the flowers, but I didn’t see many native bee species. Honey bees probably do a pretty good job of milkweed pollination because their legs are big enough to pick up and deposit pollen. However, they sometimes have trouble extracting their legs from the flower slits. I found one individual that appeared to have died after getting stuck in that exact way. I’m no fan of honey bees but I didn’t celebrate its death. It was an unfortunate and accidental victim of milkweed’s weird sex game.

Because milkweed flowers draw lots of insects to feed on them, they also host predators that hunt those hungry visitors. I saw a couple crab spiders, but none that were particularly photogenic. I did manage to photograph one of the many small long-legged flies that were hunting even more tiny invertebrates on milkweed leaves. They looked like tiny emeralds with wings.

The remaining insects I photographed were members of the exclusive club that have variously evolved strategies for feeding on a plant that is toxic to most others. Monarch caterpillars are in the club but I didn’t find any on this particular day. I did, however, find lots of red milkweed beetles, as well as some milkweed stem weevils and a few milkweed leaf beetle larvae. It’s fun to think about how those insects ended up on this milkweed ‘island’. I assume of the individuals I saw were born right there, but at some point, their ancestors must have struck out on a cross-country trip that ended up leading them to this isolated patch of food plants.

Before too long, the sun broke out of the diffused clouds that had moderated the temperature for a few hours and had provided decent light. At that point, I retreated to the shade and found other ways to entertain myself while Kim and a bunch of other crackerjack runners completed as many three mile loops as they could during the 12 hour-long race. People have funny ways of entertaining themselves, huh? (…is what those runners thought as they glanced down at the weirdo kneeling with his camera among the milkweed plants near their race track.)

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Event Reminder:

July 9 field day at the Platte River Prairies. Details here.

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My son John will be a college senior this fall, so I was happy to accommodate his request to kayak the Niobrara River again this summer. He drove up and met me at the Niobrara Valley Preserve this week and I took a day off from a week otherwise occupied with meetings, tours, and data collection. It was a terrific day.

I debated whether or not to take my camera on the trip (as opposed to just using my phone for photographs) and eventually decided to take both my camera and my tripod. John convinced me that he didn’t mind if I stopped to do some photography, so that pushed me over the edge. I wrapped the camera and a few lenses in a waterproof bag and we set off down the river early in the morning.

As it happened, the light was magnificent most of the day, so I was really glad to have my camera and John was very patient with me whenever I stopped to photograph him and other subjects (he should be used to it by now). We saw lots of great wildlife and scenery, including waterfalls, steep sandy cliffs, woodlands and grasslands, bald eagles, turkey vultures, waterfalls, shorebirds, deer, and more. Apart from some photos of John and a couple waterfalls, I didn’t photograph any of that stuff. As per usual, I focused on subjects smaller than my thumb. The majority of my expedition photos, therefore, do a horrible job of reflecting the landscape and the fauna most people associate with the Niobrara River.

Of course, lots of other people have captured photos of the river, woodlands, waterfalls, and big charismatic wildlife of the Niobrara, so I don’t feel obligated to repeat that. If you’ve followed this blog for a while, I assume you have a more sophisticated palate and will enjoy seeing photos of big eyed toad bugs, damselflies, wolf spiders and tiger beetles. I hope so, anyway, because that’s what you’re getting from here on.

We stopped for lunch on a long rocky island with a mucky wetland embedded within it. As I grabbed my sandwich, I heard some cricket frogs calling and wandered over to the wetland to see if I could spot one. Before I knew it, I was belly deep in muck and water photographing beautiful little amphibians. John enjoyed watching the whole escapade and even took a couple photos of his crazy old man. They ended up being a couple of the best action photos of me in recent history, I think.

Blanchard’s cricket frogs come in a variety of color patterns. We saw both green and tan frogs in the same vicinity and some of both were very accommodating photo subjects. If you’ve never heard them, their call sounds like someone clicking two rocks together. Actually, their calls sound like that whether you’ve heard them or not. I was surprised to hear them still calling this late in the season, but what do I know?

While I was lying the mud, I saw damselflies both mating and laying eggs, so I belly-crawled around for a while trying to get photos of both behaviors (successfully). As I was doing that, I also saw some common whitetail dragonflies zipping around. Suddenly, a female dropped down low and started repeatedly tapping the tip of her ‘tail’ on the surface of the water. I took a couple quick photos with my macro lens and then slowly squished my prostrate body closer as she continued for a minute or so. I eventually managed some decent shots of the egg-laying behavior, including a couple that showed a male dragonfly hovering above her and defending both her and his territory from potential interlopers. Really cool stuff.

As we pulled our kayaks out of the water at the end of the trip, there were scads of little tiger beetles running around on the sand beach. I, of course, grabbed my camera and as I looked at them through my macro lens, quickly realized there was a lot of sex happening on that beach. In fact, every single tiger beetle we saw was coupled up, endeavoring to make more tiger beetles. I snapped a couple photos and then we gave them some privacy.

If you’ve not floated the Niobrara River, I highly recommend it. You can find lots of information at the National Park Service’s website, but the land along the river is private – including most of the south bank of the most popular stretch, which is owned by The Nature Conservancy (part of the Niobrara Valley Preserve). There are numerous outfitters that can help organize kayak, canoe, or tube trips at very reasonable prices, and most also offer camping if you want to stay the night before and/or after your trip. If you want to avoid crowds, avoid weekends. We floated on a Thursday and only saw one other group of people all day.

If you go, you’ll probably see bald eagles, mergansers, and lots of other larger animals. However, if you’re really fortunate and are willing to look closely, you might even see some truly spectacular creatures like big eyed toad bugs and cricket frogs. Even if you miss those little wonders, you’ll still get to float down a gorgeous river past lots of waterfalls. That’s not so bad.