Dotted gayfeather (Liatris punctata) seeds at our family prairie last weekend.
This is the season of flying fluffy seeds. Asters, thistles, blazing stars, milkweeds, and other late season flowers are sending their seeds into the air, a few of which might actually land in a place where they can germinate. Each of those seeds is attached to a filamentous structure, variously called a pappus or coma, depending upon the species of plant. Those fluffy structures catch the wind and allow the seed to travel many miles, in some cases – though most land within a few meters of their origin.
Seeds that can float on the air are a nice adaptation for plants, but they are also attractive photographic subjects. Over the last week, I’ve photographed the seeds of common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca), dotted gayfeather (Liatris punctata) and tall thistle (Cirsium altissimum) in some local prairies. Here are a few of those photos for your Friday enjoyment.
Common milkweed seeds lined up inside their pod, nearly ready for launch.A common milkweed seed temporarily hung up on big bluestem.The coma of this milkweed seed got stuck and was drifting lazily in the breeze, having become separated from its seed.Tall thistle seeds. Many of these get eaten by insects before they get a chance to fly away, but at least one of these managed to escape – so far.Dotted gayfeather seeds, backlit by the autumn sun.
A crab spider and silk webbing at our family last weekend.
A few of us took a short trip out to our family prairie last weekend. My daughter was back from college for the weekend and wanted to see what was happening in the prairie, so we did a little canoeing (tight circles in the small pond), hiking, and exploring. Later, I found myself photographing dotted gayfeather seeds, and while I was looking for more of those plants, I stumbled upon a grass leaf that was bent funny with some kind of white silk holding it in that position. I had actually walked past the grass leaf before my brain finally registered the fact that I should go back and examine it.
Looking more closely, I could see enough of the creature inside to identify it as a crab spider. It had been raining quite a bit during the previous couple weeks, so my first thought was that the crab spider had made itself a little rain shelter. (Crab spiders don’t make webs, but like all spiders, do make silk and use it for various purposes.). However, my better guess was that it was a nest and that it might contain a bunch of spider eggs. I photographed it for a few minutes, taking lots of photos, since the breeze was making it hard to keep the spider in focus.
A tiny spiderling, accidentally photographed.
Later, when I was looking through images at home, I was culling all the photos of the spider that weren’t in focus (dang that wind) when I happened to spot something that confirmed my guess. Right above an unfocused crab spider face, a tiny spiderling appeared – just in one photo, not in any others. Apparently, this was indeed a crab spider nest, and at least one egg had already hatched.
The crab spider eventually shifted around and showed its face.
Crab spiders aren’t the only group of spiders that take care of their kids. Frequent readers of this blog will, of course, remember a previous post of mine showing a mother wolf spider carrying her brood around on her body, and even if you don’t, you may have heard that wolf spiders lug both their egg sacs and newly hatched babies around with them. Wolf spiders aren’t alone, though, and we’re still learning more about how well various spider species care for their young. If you’re interested, you can read more in this nice blog post from Biome Ecology. Otherwise, you can just join me in wishing this particular crab spider’s brood good luck as they disperse and try to find safe places to overwinter.
The Prairie Ecologist 