Photos of the Week – July 16, 2026

Over the last ten days or so, I’ve made several trips out to our family prairie. Those included (among others) two foggy mornings and a steamy evening, all of which lent themselves to photography. I tried to take advantage of the conditions, while fighting off mosquitos and sweating through my clothing. I also just about stepped on a skunk but both of us managed to extricate ourselves from the situation unharmed.

Foggy morning sunrise (yesterday)
Wild bergamot and foggy sunrise
Monarch on rosinweed (and foggy sunrise)
Same monarch, same foggy sunrise
Same monarch, other side (foggy sunrise present but not pictured)
Different monarch, different morning (there are a lot of monarchs at our prairie this year)
Stilt bug on common evening primrose
Mosquito on black-eyed Susan (there are a lot of mosquitos at our family prairie this year)
Black-eyed Susans (there are a lot of black-eyed Susans at our family prairie this year – mostly in the 2022 restoration we planted)
Southern grass cicada. (There are a few of southern grass cicadas – probably more than I think because they’re small)
Upright prairie coneflower and foggy sunrise (there are a lot of these coneflowers in the area we grazed the most last year)
See? Here are some more of them.
Flodman’s thistle (native species) is also doing well where we grazed last year.
Whorled milkweed, one of seven species I’ve seen at our prairie so far this year. (Common, butterfly, green comet, narrowleaf, spider, whorled, and wooly)
Wild licorice grows in large colonies, with or without fog
Purple prairie clover is also in big patches, but isn’t connected underground by rhizomes like the licorice is
Common milkweed is connected underground by rhizomes. This is a patch that hasn’t been grazed for a few years, so it was able to grow and flower happily (I assume it is happy)
Goatsbeard, aka salsify, has a seedhead that is nearly impossible for me to walk past with my camera.
Lightning bug (there are a lot of lightning bugs at our family prairie this year)
See? Here’s another one
Sunset and Illinois tickclover , aka tick trefoil

Photos of the Week – October 10, 2025

The fall migration is in full swing through our prairies. Dragonflies, birds, butterflies, and more are moving southward. Going out on dewy mornings is a great way to check up on butterflies and dragonflies because I can find them immobile and covered in dew on their overnight roosts. This week was a big week for variegated meadowhawks (dragonflies), apparently. I found dozens of them at our family prairie one morning (more photos toward the end of this post).

Variegated meadowhawk at sunrise. Helzer family prairie.

There are lots of little brown birds skulking in the vegetation this week. Many of them are grassland sparrows of various species, but there also were a bunch of sedge wrens at our family prairie. Most of those birds are hard to see unless you flush them while walking through the prairie, but just standing still is also a good way to hear them as they rustle around in patches of tall grass. The sedge wrens made it easy because they not only rustled, they also called to each other with their machine gun songs (“Dot Dot d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d!”).

One of many sedge wrens hiding in the grass this week.

Monarchs are far from the only migratory butterfly (not to mention moths) coming through. I’ve seen a lot of painted lady butterflies this week and found a few orange sulphurs that (probably?) were on the move. There was a cluster of pearl crescent butterflies in our yard this week, too, but as far as I know, those aren’t migratory. They looked like they’d all recently emerged as adults, so they’d better hurry if they’re going to lay eggs before freezing temperatures hit!

Orange sulphur in the morning dew.

As I see the abundance of flies still active at this time of year, I can’t help wondering how many of them are migrants. A year ago, I wrote a post complaining about the lack of North American research on migratory flies. I’m sure that spurred a flurry of activity among researchers (eye roll) and that we’ll soon know a lot more about the topic. In the meantime, I’m left to wonder, especially about all the different drone flies and hover flies I see. Are they just scrambling to eat (and lay eggs?) before frost? Or are they fueling up during a long southward journey?

A gorgeous dew-covered fly. Is it a migrant or resident? I don’t have any idea. Lincoln Creek Prairie.

Most insects, of course, don’t migrate, so they have to survive Nebraska winters however they can. That usually involves finding a sheltered place to hide and then just withstanding freezing conditions. Species vary in terms of whether they go through winter as adults, eggs, or larvae/nymphs. All of those options seem to work ok.

This katydid thought it was hiding from me on an early morning this week. I’m not sure whether this species lives through the winter as adults or eggs.
Another shot of the same katydid.
Male American bumblebee (Bombus pensylvanicus) roosting on the underside of a tall thistle leaf.

A lot of the individual insects out and around now will simply die as winter hits. The only bumblebees, for example, that survive the winter are the fertilized females that will be next year’s queens. Everyone else in the colony will perish at the end of this season. Other insects that lay eggs before winter will also die after completing that task. I imagine that abundance of dead insects provides a big bonanza of food for any animals out poking around after the first big freeze or two. If not, bacteria, fungi, and other microorganisms will clean up the rest.

This caterpillar was literally hanging around on some big bluestem (remarkably camouflaged!) this week. I imagine it’ll spend much of the winter frozen solid, either as a caterpillar or pupa.
Stink bug on big bluestem.

Plants are also shutting down for the year. Most wildflowers and grasses are finished blooming and have produced seeds if they can. Perennial prairie plants are also making buds. Woody plants make buds aboveground where new leaves or stems will emerge next year so the plants can continue to grow larger (assuming they don’t get burned, chewed, or cut down). Herbaceous plants, though, including grasses, wildflowers, and sedges, create buds at their bases, usually right below the surface of the soil.

Over the winter, the entire aboveground portion of perennial herbaceous plants dies back. In the spring, though, those plants will start a new season of growth from their basal buds. Seeds are still important for those perennials, though, both because it allows them to combine DNA with others of their species (cross-pollination) and because it lets them spread progeny into new places. Seed dispersal strategies are fascinating and beautiful, and it’s a fun time of year to see a lot of them in action.

Indiangrass seeds dangling from a seed head, ready to be carried off by a breeze or passing animal.
This milkweed seeds are poised to fly off in the wind once the sun dries the dew drops from them.

Late summer and early fall are great times for dewy mornings. Those water droplets are a boon for insect photographers, but they also make nice photo subjects on their own.

Dew drop hanging from a leaf after sunrise.
Another dew drop on a leaf.

Back to the abundance of variegated meadowhawks this week… I can’t remember seeing so many at a time before, but that doesn’t mean much. I tried to quickly photograph a selection of those I found at our family prairie one morning, but I just kept finding more and more. Here are the ones I managed to photograph:

There was one dragonfly in particular that was perched attractively on top of some stiff goldenrod as the sun came up. I circled back to it a couple times as it started warming up and managed to photograph it from multiple angles while it was still too cold and wet to fly away. All the rest of the photos below are of that same individual.

I don’t know how much longer this late season flurry of activity will last, so I’m trying to catch as much of it as I can. I’ve gotten behind on some projects because I’m trying to see things before they’re gone, but I’ll have the whole winter to catch up, right?