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.

Photo of the Week – September 16, 2016

NOTE: This post originally misidentified this hawk as a juvenile ferruginous hawk, but after some helpful comments from readers and confirmation from a couple other experts, I have edited the post to make it clear that it is, indeed, a red-tailed hawk. 

A juvenile ferruginous hawk

A juvenile red-tailed hawk in a prairie dog town.  Garden County, Nebraska.

As I’ve said many times, I am not a wildlife photographer.  I stalk insects and flowers, and try to take a few scenic photos, but I don’t have the equipment, time, or patience to be a real wildlife photographer.  Thus, I don’t have a lot of photos of birds, deer, or other wildlife.  The few photos I do have of those wildlife species come from opportunities I don’t really deserve, but am lucky enough to get anyway.  For example, I posted about an evening photographing prairie dogs back in July when, for no good reason, a prairie dog and her pups let me get within about 15 feet of them with my camera.

Last month, on a trip to the Nebraska Sandhills, I got another inexplicable chance to photograph wildlife without really trying.  I didn’t set up a photo blind weeks beforehand, crawl into it in pitch darkness, and spend fruitless day after fruitless day waiting for a red-tailed hawk to land in the right place at the right time.  Nope.  Instead, I saw a hawk and drove over to get a closer look.

I drove slowly, watching for signs of agitation so I could stop before it flew off.  There was no agitation.  The hawk just stared at me as I drove within 25 feet or so, BACKED UP in a half circle to get a better angle, drove a little closer, GOT OUT OF THE VEHICLE, crouched down next to the vehicle, and took some photos.  It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, it shouldn’t have happened, but it did.  As a result, here are some photos I took of a red-tailed hawk this summer…

Ferruginous hawk

The red-tailed hawk staring at me as I knelt on the ground with my camera and took its picture from 15 feet away.

The hawk didn’t appear to be injured in any way, and I saw it fly and land in the spot where I photographed it.  The only justification I can come up with for its behavior is that it was a young bird, but even that doesn’t really make sense.  Even a young bird should be afraid of a noisy vehicle driving toward it and a funny looking bipedal creature emerging from the vehicle holding some kind of black object.  I hope the hawk changed its attitude toward strangers before meeting a coyote, for example, that wasn’t quite as innocuous as a surprised and grateful photographer.