Photos of the Week – September 2, 2025

August really flew by but it was a fun and interesting month. In addition to a full calendar of work and home events, I made time to explore several of my favorite prairies, including The Nature Conservancy’s Platte River Prairies, Niobrara Valley Preserve, and our own family prairie. I caught numerous sunrises and sunsets, foggy mornings, stormy evenings, and some bright overcast days. It was sometimes a struggle to keep up with my to-do list, but my time in the prairie always felt rejuvenating, rather than as something that subtracted from my productivity.

I spent a few mornings in the Platte River Prairies. August is often a good time for foggy mornings with light winds, and this year’s version was no exception.

Sunrise on a foggy morning at the Platte River Prairies.
Compass plant and sunrise.
Canada wildrye with dew and morning light.

One morning, I spent several minutes watching a small spider deconstruct its web, eating it as it went. Many spider species will re-make their web daily, and eating the old one is a way to gain back some of the nutrients it takes to create more silk. This one was working methodically, pulling threads toward her mouth as she circled the web and spiraled inward.

Spider consuming its web in the morning.

Hover flies are always a common sight on the flowers of grasses (as well as other wildflowers). Grasses are wind-pollinated, so the hover flies probably don’t help the grasses any, but there seems to be plenty of pollen to go around, so I doubt they do any serious harm. Plus, they’re pretty dang cute – especially when they grab anthers in their front legs as they eat.

Hover fly feeding on big bluestem pollen.
Widow skimmer in the morning.
Grasshopper peering at me from a sunflower.

We’ve had good rain this year, starting in the early summer, so most of our prairies are looking pretty lush. That includes my family’s prairie. The area we grazed hardest last year is the most full of wildflowers and insects, but the whole site looks good.

A metallic green sweat bee on purple prairie clover.
A bush katydid peering at me through the grass.
A bush katydid from a different angle.

One morning, I stopped at our family prairie well before sunrise. As I was scouting around, waiting for the sun, I saw a few bees clustered together on a flower. That’s not unusual, but I mentally noted the location in case I wanted to come back after the light improved. Shortly after that, I saw an even bigger group of bees, and then another. I’d never seen so many longhorn bees on the same flower before, and I saw similar groupings on at least 4 or 5 flowers.

Longhorn bees waking up in the morning on a stiff sunflower (Helianthus pauciflorus).

I don’t know how to explain this. Longhorn bees (it looked like maybe two or three different species?) are solitary, meaning that females dig their own nest and work by themselves to gather food for their eggs. Males don’t have nests, so spend nights outside, sometimes a few at a time on a leaf or inside a flower. Seeing this many at once, though, was new to me. I wonder if a bunch had recently emerged (from pupae) and I was seeing the new generation on its first night, before they’d had a chance to disperse (or be eaten by predators)?

Whatever the explanation, it was pretty great, and I definitely circled back with my camera once sunlight started to hit those flowers. I had to work quickly, though, because the combination of my presence and the warmth of the sun caused the bees to start flying off pretty quickly.

More longhorn bees on a different stiff sunflower.
Another longhorn bee.

Meanwhile, in the Nebraska Sandhills, it’s been a terrific year for plains sunflowers, one of two annual sunflower species that grow in the state. They are especially abundant where grazing and/or fire created some bare ground for germination this spring, but they’re common across at least the whole eastern portion of the 12 million-acre prairie landscape.

Plains sunflowers (Helianthus petiolaris) and bison fence at sunrise. Niobrara Valley Preserve.
Plains sunflower and rising sun.

The bounty of sunflowers creates more than just abundant beauty. Sunflowers are very generous with their resources, including pollen, nectar, and seeds. They don’t hide pollen and nectar inside pods, and though the seeds are in shells, they’re laid out for easy access.

In addition to those resources, sunflower leaves are very nutritious, including for large grazers (especially early in the season) and lots of invertebrates, including as the favorite food for the plains lubber grasshopper. Plus, sunflowers produce extrafloral nectar from pores up and down the plants, which attracts hungry ants.

Huge numbers of annual sunflowers usually signifies a temporary drop in the vigor of dominant grasses and other perennial plants – from drought, fire, grazing, or a combination. While those other plants are regathering their strength, sunflowers step up and provide all their abundant resources to the members of the prairie community. Plus, of course, it’s a nice thing for photographers.

Lots of plains sunflowers.
More sunflowers.
An adult antlion with sunflower color in the background.

One evening, thunderstorms started forming off to the west of the Niobrara Valley Preserve and tracked northeast, providing a prolonged lightning show that kept just enough distance from the Preserve that I could watch and photograph it safely. After dark, the storms did pass directly over us, but I was safely in bed by then.

Lightning in Sandhills prairie. Niobrara Valley Preserve.
Lightning over the Niobrara River. Niobrara Valley Preserve.

In late August, my impressive wife, Kim, and a bunch of other tough athletes ran a 50-kilometer race on the trails at Wilson Lake (north-central Kansas). I was there as driver and crew member – mainly to say something supportive and hand her food, water, or dry socks when she passed through the aid station. Most of the time, I was free to do my own thing while Kim and a bunch of other human outliers ran up and down rocky hills all day.

It was a cloudy, breezy day, so I wandered down to the sandy banks of the lake where the wind wasn’t as disruptive for photography. I spent a lot of time on my belly, trying to photograph invertebrates who were feeding, hunting, or trying to warm up on the open sand whenever the sun peeked out from between clouds.

As per usual, I had to ignore the onlookers who were trying to figure out why a grown man was lying in wet sand with a camera. The diversity and activity of little creatures was well worth it.

A juvenile wolf spider on the beach of Wilson Lake in Kansas.
A big sandy tiger beetle on the beach. There were LOTS of these.
This is what the lakeshore looked like (featuring an invasive salt cedar tree in the foreground). Now just imagine me on my belly and boaters, dog walkers, and others passing by.
A band-winged grasshopper, one of several similar species that were extraordinarily well-camouflaged.
Damselfly.
A robber fly on an old common reed rhizome.

Along edge of the sand, just before the land rose up into the rocky prairie, I found an abundance of marsh-fleabane (Pluchea odorata). It was a very pretty plant, but even more attractive to scads of pollinators than it was to me. I photographed quite a few different butterflies, flies, and wasps on and around the plant. Since this has become a long post, I’ll just share one example.

A wasp feeding on the nectar of marsh-fleabane (Pluchea odorata) on the edge of the beach of Wilson Lake.

It’s hard to believe there are only about six weeks of this growing season left here in Nebraska. I spend a lot of time outside, but I still feel like I’ve missed way too much this year and am now running out of time to see everything that’s happening. It’s going to be hard to concentrate on any indoor activities during the next month-and-a-half, knowing that while I’m stuck indoors, prairie species are rushing around trying to do everything they need to before frost hits. I should be out there with them!

Ok, gotta go.

Photo of the Week – August 3, 2018

I walked around one of our newer prairie/wetland restoration sites yesterday morning.  The sun was just starting to punch some holes in low-lying fog and everything was wet.  A cool and wet summer morning is usually a great time to find immobile insects and photograph them, but I for some reason I wasn’t seeing much as I walked.  Not a dragonfly, not a butterfly, not even a big ol’ beetle…  I did eventually find some bees encased in dew drops, waiting for the sun to emerge to warm and dry them.

A sunflower bee (Svastra obliqua) hides beneath a wet sawtooth sunflower leaf while waiting for morning fog to completely disperse.

Unlike females, male solitary bees don’t have nests to defend and spend most of their days chasing around foraging females.  When night comes, most species (except for a few night-feeding bees) just find a convenient place to shelter until morning.  Many times, they seem to choose roost sites where they can be a little protected from potential predators, but other times they just end up on the exposed surface of a flower (the equivalent of falling asleep on their dinner plate, I guess).  Most of the bees I saw yesterday were at least somewhat hidden- which is why I had to look pretty hard to find them, but there were a few out in the open as well, including the one pictured below.

This little fella (Melissodes agilis) looks like he fell asleep and became covered in dew drops while feeding on this rosinweed plant (Silphium integrifolium).

As I wandered along a wetland swale, I was admiring one of my favorite plants – prairie gentian (Eustoma grandiflorum) – when I happened to look down inside the blossom and spotted a fuzzy little bee.  Because it seemed like a convenient and relatively safe hiding place for bees, I started looking into other flowers too, and sure enough, I found more bees.

An agile long-horned bee (Melissodes agilis) sheltering inside a prairie gentian blossom. The circular holes in the flower petals were made by a different kind of bee – a leaf cutting bee, harvesting materials for its nest construction.

All the bees I was seeing in the prairie gentian flowers looked like the same species to me, but I’ve become smart enough not to overestimate my ability to tell bee species apart, so I double checked with Mike Arduser.  Mike confirmed that they are all male agile long-horned bees (Melissodes agilis), as was the bee I’d seen on the rosinweed flower.  He said they appear to have just recently emerged, based on their fresh appearance.  I’ll take his word for that and so should you.

There are actually three bees stacked on top of each other on this flower.

Mike also confirmed that the agile long-horned bees don’t have any particular tie to prairie gentian (they don’t specialize on its pollen or use it for nesting sites or materials).  Instead, it just appears a number of them independently recognized the potential value of prairie gentian flowers as safe overnight roost sites.  If I hadn’t been specifically admiring the gentian flowers, I’m sure I wouldn’t have noticed the bees.  I’m guessing most predators wouldn’t have spotted them either, though if a smart predator had happened to find one then and decided to do what I did and check other flowers nearby, it would have had a pretty easy time filling up on bees for breakfast!

After hearing from Mike, I followed up with a series of questions I’m guessing even he can’t answer.  Among those, I’m wondering if an individual bee returns to the same roost site night after night – assuming it isn’t disturbed while sleeping the previous night.  If that hasn’t been studied, it seems like it would be relatively easy to do a mark and recapture study on them.  The trick might be to catch the bees AFTER they leave their roost, though, so they don’t associate that roost site with being caught…  Ok, maybe it wouldn’t be as easy as I was thinking.  If you try it, however, let me know what you figure out!