birds | The Prairie Ecologist

I don’t know about you but fall weather makes me want to test my natural history knowledge. If you’re feeling the same way, there are probably good ways to do that somewhere on the internet. Or maybe even in real life. All I can offer is this dumb quiz. Sorry about that.

What can we reasonably infer from the color pattern on this caterpillar?

A. This winter will start out cold and snowy. Then it will be warm and pleasant for most of the winter, but there will be a big cold snap at the end, followed by a very brief period of nice weather before spring starts. Near the end of the calendar year, many people will take time off work and visit family and friends. The stock market will go down for a while and then back up*. You will meet a mysterious stranger.

B. It is a woolly bear caterpillar, also known as the larval stage of the Isabella tiger moth (Pyrrharctia Isabella).

C. *Past performance is not indicative of future results.

Which have been around longer? Bees or wasps?

A. Wasps. Bees evolved from wasps.

B. Bees are kind of wasps that stopped feeding their kids animal products and gave them a vegetarian diet of pollen and nectar instead (via natural selection-driven evolution).

C. Wasps on flowers are just looking for nectar and aren’t trying to attack you.

D. All of the above.

E. A&B. C is tangential to the question.

F. Yes, but true and important for people to know.

G. (The insect in the photo is a Scoliid wasp.)

How great is the camouflage of this narrow stink bug hiding on sideoats grama?

A. Whoa, that’s awesome.

B. Incredible.

C. What bug are you talking about?

D. Are you sure sideoats is all one word?

E. Some people hyphenate it but most official botanical sources do not.

Which of these is a migratory species?

A. A

B. B

C. C

D. D

E. All of them.

F. Probably all of them, but the research being done on migratory flies in North America is embarrassingly behind that of our colleagues in Europe, where they’ve documented lots of migratory fly species, including the one shown here, which is also found in North America. Also, large migratory bugs are, indeed, migratory, which seems wild, huh?

What is happening here?

A. This ladybug is pausing in a completely random location before moving on with its perfectly normal day.

B. I’m wasting my time taking a nonsense quiz instead of doing what I’m supposed to be doing right now.

C. This ladybug has probably been parasitized and paralyzed by a braconic wasp called (Dinocampus coccinellae). After the wasp larva ate much of the inside of the ladybug, it paralyzed the bug and then tunneled out and built a cocoon attached to the paralyzed but still living ladybug, which will continue twitching just enough to hopefully (from the wasp’s standpoint) protect the cocoon and developing adult wasp from any creature who might otherwise want to eat it while it is in an otherwise vulnerable state.

D. Sometimes a ladybug parasitized/paralyzed like this will eventually recover enough to continue living afterward – if you count walking around without a lot of your inside parts (including gonads) as living. And who are we to judge that?

What are the red spherical objects in this photo?

A. Pain fruits.

B. Spike currants.

C. Thorn plums.

D, Galls created by the spiny rose gall wasp, inside which tiny wasp larvae are growing.

E. This is a very wasp-heavy quiz, huh?

F. Yes. Wasps are amazing.

G. Prickleberries

H. You’ve used this same topic in at least one previous quiz.

I. It’s ok. Nobody will notice.

What killed this poor fly?

A. Almost surely a wasp, given how this quiz is going.

B. Old age compounded by steadily increasing feelings of cynicism and apathy.

C. The fly was infected by the spore of a fungus that then grew into and through its body until it took over its brain, directed it to climb up high on a plant, and then killed it so when fungal spores were produced, they could spread through the air. The fly was also directed to spread its wings before death to trick other flies into trying to mate with it, only to infect them with fungal spores and certain death.

D. Egads!

What can be reasonably inferred about someone uses the word “egads”?

A. They are older than dirt.

B. It’s time for their medicine.

C. Their pantaloons might be cinched a little too tightly.

D. They probably think “prickleberries” is funny.

E. All of the above.

Why do they call evening primroses evening primroses?

A. Because they open their flowers late in the day. Often in the evening.

B. Oh, that makes sense.

This is a great time to visit local prairies here in east-central Nebraska. A lot of the bigger showy wildflowers are in bloom and there’s a lot of insect activity, including a nice boost in monarch butterfly numbers and a lot of sound coming from mature grasshoppers, crickets, and katydids.

Monarch butterflies in recently-restored grassland at our family prairie.

Most grassland nesting birds are done for the season and/or have headed south. The exception is the sedge wren, which is commonly a late nester in this part of the world. We don’t hear them until late July or August, most years. They set up territories and nest in the more tall/dense portions of our prairies here, including both the Platte River Prairies and my family prairie. Last week, though, I found a dickcissel nest with very-recently hatched chicks, which was a real surprise. The parents were apparently very dedicated to getting something out of this season. I wonder how many failed attempts have led them to this point. I wish them good luck!

A dickcissels perching on rosinweed about 15 feet from his (late!) nest full of recently-hatched chicks.

A Woodhouse’s toad at our family prairie.

Sunrise and wavy-leaf thistle (*Cirsium undulatum*).

On foggy, dewy mornings, my most convenient local photo destination is Lincoln Creek Prairie, right here in town. There have been a lot of those foggy mornings lately, and a lot of photo opportunities. The farm just to the east of my favorite spot is growing soybeans instead of corn this year, which is much nicer in terms of allowing sunrise light to hit the prairie right away.

A yellow garden spider on a foggy morning at Lincoln Creek Prairie.

A derbid planthopper, a species I first learned about during my square meter photography project.

A longhorn bee roosting (comfortably?) on stiff sunflower (*Helianthus pauciflorus*) at Lincoln Creek.

Another bee waking up from its overnight roost on the same sunflower as above.

A green darner dragonfly on common milkweed at Lincoln Creek Prairie.

A big bush katydid of some kind on a yellowing milkweed plant.

A bush cicada (*Megatibicen dorsatus*) at Lincoln Creek Prairie.

Dew drops on Canada wildrye (*Elymus canadensis*).

Cucumber beetle on pitcher sage (*Salvia azurea*) at Lincoln Creek Prairie.

One recent morning at Lincoln Creek, I found a little digger bee that looked like it had spent the night hanging from a switchgrass flower by its mouth. This isn’t unusual for some native bee species – especially males, who don’t have a nest to retreat to. As I started photographing it, it began using its legs to wipe dew from its body, preparing to fly off. I’ve been trying to take better advantage of the video function on my camera, so after taking some good still photos, I switched to video mode (see the clip below).

Digger bee cleaning dew from itself while clamped to switchgrass.

Last Saturday evening, the wind was calm and there was a little haze near the horizon, so I headed out to a prairie I hadn’t visited for a while at the Deep Well Wildlife Management Area about 15 minutes west of town. It was nice to get out, but I’m guessing most people would not have enjoyed my eventual experience. Showy tick trefoil, aka tickclover (Desmodium canadense) is very abundant at this restored prairie (thanks Bill Whitney), which I knew, but had kind of forgotten about until I started walking. For a while, I tried to avoid it, but eventually gave up because there weren’t any clear paths through the prairie without intercepting it. (see photo below)

In addition to the tickclover plants grabbing me as I walked through the tall, dense vegetation, it was also a humid night with no breeze. That lack of breeze was helpful for photography, and there was a lot to photograph, but it also meant there was no help in keeping the clouds of mosquitos at bay. My head net and long-sleeved shirt helped, but weren’t entirely sufficient. It’s weird that I didn’t see anyone else out there…

In addition, the little blue butterflies, damselflies, and drone flies that were all over the place didn’t want to sit still, so I ended up with mostly plant photos. That’s fine, of course, but I was hoping for at least a FEW insect shots. Maybe they were trying to stay away from the mosquitos and tickclover, too.

Cup plant (*Silphium perfoliatum*) and sunset.

Just prior to writing this post, I spent at least half an hour with a paint scraper getting the seeds off my shirt, pants, socks, and boots, all of which I’d left in the garage after getting home from the Deep Well prairie trip. I think I got most of them. Apologies to the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission for the unintended seed harvest without permission.

I did, though, keep those tickclover seeds, and will add them to pile of the other seeds I’ve been harvesting to overseed portions of our family prairie this winter. Sure, I know it’s setting me up for more post-prairie paint scraper time in the future, but the flowers are SO PRETTY!

I’m trying to take full advantage of this terrific time of year for prairie walks. I hope you’re getting similar opportunities.

The Prairie Ecologist

Essays, photos, and discussion about prairie ecology, restoration, and management

Tag Archives: birds

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