The Enigmatic Stick Insect

I’m pretty good at spotting insects.  When I walk around prairies with a camera, I’m usually looking down, scanning for small creatures.  Just as I imagine a building inspector develops search images for signs of mold, fire hazards, and shoddy construction, my search images help me pick out grasshoppers, spiders, caterpillars, and stink bugs.  Despite that, I rarely see stick insects (aka walking sticks).

Although not extremely obvious, this stick insect (walking stick) is more visible than it usually is because I put it on this plant so I could photograph it. Garden County, Nebraska.

This stick insect (walking stick) is more visible than usual because I put it on that plant so I could photograph it. Garden County, Nebraska.

I don’t think stick insects are all that uncommon.  In fact, about 12 years or so ago, I was using a pull-behind seed stripper to harvest seed from lemon scurfpea (Psoralidium lanceolatum) in one of our Platte River Prairies.  The machine essentially uses a street sweeper brush to strip seeds from plants into a hopper.  Of course, the brush often captures insects along with the seed.  After maybe 10-15 minutes of running the machine, I stopped to check the harvest and was astonished to see hundreds of stick insects swarming about in the hopper.  As the machine was harvesting seeds, I had been constantly scanning ahead of it to be sure there were no seed heads of invasive plants and to pick out the best patches to harvest.  Regardless, I didn’t see a single stick insect until they ended up in the hopper.  I’ve not seen that phenomenon again, but I often wonder if there are hundreds of stick insects hidden all around me as I walk through prairies.  That may be true, but I feel lucky every time I actually see one.

Earlier this year, I was photographing bison and saw a couple stick insects riding on the back of one of those big furry animals.  Later in the summer, I found one riding along on my own back. I gently put it on a nearby plant and photographed it for a while, grateful for the unexpected opportunity.

A close up of the head of the stick insect, showing the palps around the mouthparts that I assume help to maneuver leaves into position to be eaten.

A closer view of the head of the stick insect, showing the palps around the mouthparts that I assume help to maneuver leaves into position to be eaten.  Also, even the eye is striped, contributing to the camouflage.

Stick insects are in the order Phasmida, along with leaf insects, and there are about 3,000 species of Phasmids worldwide.  There is a lot of general information about stick and leaf insects, but I found it hard to know which details fit the stick insects I see in Nebraska prairies.  I’d love to hear from others who know more about the ecology and behavior of these creatures.

Here are a few basic facts:

Stick insects are leaf eaters.  In some cases, they can cause widespread defoliation of trees, making them pests to those who like those trees.  (Or potential heroes to those of us working to limit the number of trees in our prairies!)

Like praying mantids, stick insects can often be seen swaying back and forth on their legs.  Some scientists think this might help with their camouflage, giving the impression that they are moving in the breeze.  Others think it’s a strategy to help them pick out objects against their background (they are triangulating).

The other major information presented by most sources is that at least some species of stick insects are known for copulating – or at least staying in that position – for days, weeks, or even months at a time.  It may be that the female benefits from having the smaller male on her back to act as a shield from predators, or maybe the two of them are just more cumbersome for a predator to deal with.  There are other theories about the behavior as well, but I don’t feel qualified to sort through them for you.

One last photo of the stick insect before I left it alone to go find something to eat and a place to be better hidden.

One last photo of the stick insect before I left it alone to go find something to eat and a place to be better hidden.

As I’ve said numerous times, I’m not an expert on insects and other small invertebrates – I’m just an enthusiast.  If there are experts out there who can tell us about the stick insects of prairies, or the one specifically featured in the above photos, please chime in.  I’m sure there are fascinating stories to learn.

The Curious Case of Stickleaf Flowers – Yet Another Fascinating Natural History Story

Stickleaf (Mentzelia nuda) is a common short-lived wildflower in western Nebraska.  It and other stickleaf plants are named for the dense barbed hairs on their leaves that make them sticky to touch.  This particular species of stickleaf also has beautiful showy white flowers.  Until this summer, however, I hadn’t realized those flowers aren’t open during most of the day.

Mentzelia

Stickleaf (Mentzelia nuda) blooming near sunset.  Garden County, Nebraska.

Once I started paying attention, I noticed that the flowers were always closed up in the morning, and were still closed at lunchtime.  They didn’t start to open until around 3 or 4 o’clock in the afternoon.  Although it was fun to discover the blooming pattern in the field, it wasn’t a new scientific observation by any means.  Back at home, I started looking for information on Mentzelia nuda and immediately found numerous references to its evening blooming pattern.

Mentzelia

Mentzelia nuda stays closed during much of the day.

Mentzelia

It opens its flowers in the late afternoon and keeps them open until dusk.  Note the dense stamens in the center of the flower.

As I looked for more information on stickleaf,  I found a couple of great papers published in the 1980’s by Dr. Kathy Keeler, now a professor emeritus at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.  Dr. Keeler did some really interesting natural history research on Mentzelia nuda  and published it in the American Journal of Botany (1981, 68:295-299; 1987, 74:785-791.)  At a basic level, she confirmed that most stickleaf plants act as biennials (they live for two years, and then bloom once and die).  A few of the plants she studied, though, germinated, bloomed and died all in one year, and others lived as rosettes of basal leaves for up to seven years before finally blooming and dying.  In other words, Mentzelia plants can adapt to conditions and either bloom in their first year if conditions allow or hold on for extra time if conditions aren’t favorable.

Dr. Keeler also reported some fascinating details about stickleaf’s strategy for producing nectar.  She found that each stickleaf flower blooms six evenings in a row before its petals drop off.  During those six days, it produces nectar at the top of its flower’s ovary.  That nectar attracts bees and flies, which Dr. Keeler observed burrowing through the thick forest of stamens to get to the nectar.  That’s all fine and good.  What’s really interesting, though, is that after the flower drops its petals, it continues to produce nectar for another 10 days.

Why would it do that?

Well, that 10 day period covers about the first half of the time required for the Mentzelia plant to make and ripen its seeds.  Dr. Keeler’s hypothesis was that the “postfloral nectar” attracts ants (predators) and helps prevent damage to the developing seeds.  Ants don’t seem to be able to find or access the nectar hidden behind the dense growth of stamens while the flower is blooming, but Dr. Keeler saw numerous ants on the flowers after the petals and stamens had dropped off.

Being a good scientist, Dr. Keeler excluded ants from some plants and found that those plants had more damaged seed capsules than plants with ants on them, supporting her hypothesis.  However, the nectar-for-protection strategy is apparently far from foolproof, because many seed capsules were still damaged by moth larvae and weevils, even when ants were present.

We can learn a lot by studying how species do in the core versus the ragged edges of huge intact prairie landscapes like the Nebraska Sandhills.

Mentzelia nuda blooming on a beautiful evening in the Nebraska Sandhills.

A few quick observations:  The details of how Mentzelia nuda interacts with the world around it are fantastically interesting.  On the other hand, so are the details of the lives of most plants and animals – or at least those that have been studied.  We only know what we know about Mentzelia’s postfloral nectar strategy because Dr. Keeler took the time – significant time – to figure it out.  That kind of research happens much less frequently these days, and that’s unfortunate.  Also, despite all of Dr. Keeler’s work, there are still plenty of unanswered about that story, including “What species of seed eaters do ants help repel?  How do the moth larvae and weevils attack the seed capsule and escape ant predation?  How has the nectar production strategy changed over time?  How/will the plant adapt in the future to counter the seed destruction by moths and weevils?”

Now, think of all the unknown stories out there related to other plants that haven’t gotten the level of attention that Dr. Keeler gave Mentzelia nuda, let alone all of the invertebrates and other tiny creatures that most of us aren’t even familiar with!  Every time I’ve gone looking for information a prairie species, one of two things happens.  Either I find incredibly interesting stories that scientists have pieced together through careful study or I find that almost nothing is known.  I’ve not yet found a prairie species with a boring story.

It’s an awesome, complex world out there.  Let’s keep learning.

If you’re interested, you can read Dr. Keeler’s full journal article on postfloral nectar here.