Quiz Time! (September 2026 Edition)

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.

Photos of the Week – September 11, 2026

I’ve been very lucky so far this month to have a lot of time to wander through prairies with my camera, both during and outside of work hours. Here is a selection of images from the first 10 days of September.

Dotted gayfeather and annual buckwheat at the Niobrara Valley Preserve.
A bumble bee joining the party.

The Niobrara Valley Preserve continues to be accented by huge patches of annual buckwheat (Eriogonum annuum). Last week, I stopped briefly to admire some dotted gayfeather plants, which contrasted beautifully with the buckwheat. While I was lying down with the gayfeather (being very careful not to lie on top of any cacti) a bumble bee stopped by to visit the flowers, which was a pleasant surprise.

Abundant buckwheat.
Plains sunflower against a backdrop of buckwheat and camphorweed.

Not long after I photographed the gayfeather, I came across an old bison bull hanging out by himself. The rut has ended, so he might have just been resting after a month of chasing cows and fighting off other bulls. My guess, though, is that he was an older bull who skipped all that excitement and has been hanging out by himself all summer. As I watched the bull, I also watched the thunderstorm building behind him and moving off to the east. As always, I photographed the bison from the safety of my vehicle.

A bison stands in front of a building storm.
Different angle

Later that night, I was about to crawl into my tent (we were hosting a workshop and housing was scarce – plus it was a beautiful night for camping) when I noticed lightning in the distance. The storm that had built behind the bison was still in sight as it moved eastward. I walked the short distance between my tent and the Niobrara River and photographed the storm, the stars, and the river for a while.

A receding thunderstorm over the Niobrara River after dark.

Our new backyard prairie garden is finally starting to come into its own and it’s been fun to see what animals have been drawn in. Yesterday, I saw both a cricket frog and leopard frog, which was surprising, given the distance between us and any water bodies or streams. I didn’t photograph either of them because the lighting was bad, but I did capture a fun portrait of a gorgeous wasp visiting some wild bergamot.

A Prionyx wasp on wild bergamot in our backyard.

Lincoln Creek Prairie, my local go-to spot for quick in-town photography jaunts, is getting tall and harder to walk through. Tall prairie plants, though, are fun to silhouette against early and late sunlight.

Maximilian sunflower at Lincoln Creek Prairie.

Garden spiders continue to be abundant and visually apparent at a lot of the prairies I’m visiting right now. I picked one up the other day, just to show someone that they’re harmless. It ran around on my hands but clearly wasn’t happy about it so I let it go back to its web. I say they’re harmless… I mean they’re harmless to us, of course, not to the many smaller invertebrates whose lives end shortly after they encounter the big webs.

Banded garden spider.
Yellow garden spider wrapping a fly.
A wrapped fly.

I was leaving one of our Platte River Prairies sites the other day, having finished up some data collection, when I saw a garden spider web with thistle seeds stuck to it. The seeds framed the spider itself really nicely and I couldn’t resist stopping to try some photography. Without going into needless details, having to do with topography, vegetation, lens selection, apertures, etc., I couldn’t figure out an angle and composition that matched what I had envisioned in my head. I did eventually get a shot that at least showed what was going on. It’s fine.

Thistle seeds caught in a garden spider web.

Speaking of thistles, a lot of native thistles are producing seeds right now, which is making a lot of birds very happy. Some of the thistles (especially tall thistle – Cirsium altissimum) are still blooming, which is making a lot of monarchs, bumble bees, and other pollinators very happy. I’m always a sucker for floating seeds, both before and after they launch.

Seeds of tall thistle (native wildflower).
Flodman’s thistle seed – front lit.
Flodman’s thistle seed – back lit.

I also like playing around with different lighting angles when a photo subject gives me the time for that. The thistle seed above wasn’t going anywhere, so I shot it from multiple directions. The tiny moth below was too cold and wet to complain about my lying down on multiple sides of it, trying out various angles and compositions.

Dew-covered moth – front lit.
Dew-covered moth – back lit.

I’m still hearing cicadas in both the prairie and our yard, but I think they’re starting to wane. Grasshoppers, crickets, and katydids, though, are still going strong, making the late summer prairies nice and noisy. The high-pitched whines and buzzes of those insects is sometimes punctured by the machine gun song of sedge wrens, too. Sometimes I like to enjoy an audiobook as I wander the prairie, but it can be hard to focus on the plot when the prairie music is so loud. That’s not a complaint, by the way, just an observation.

Plains dog day cicada – Lincoln Creek Prairie.

I’m seeing a lot of praying mantises right now. I’ve photographed all three of our biggest species over the last month or so. This last week, I found both the native Carolina mantis and the non-native European mantis in situations where they were willing to pose for photos. I’ve seen some Chinese mantises as well, but not recently during times of good light or when I’ve had time to stop and visit.

Carolina mantis at Lincoln Creek Prairie.
Carolina mantis hanging out on a milkweed plant.
European mantis – Gjerloff Prairie.
European mantis again.

Jumping spiders are always adorable, but when they’re hiding in their little silken shelters high up in the vegetation, they’re gosh darned irresistible. Why is irresistible spelled with “ible” at the end instead of “able”? If we’re not able to resist something, shouldn’t it be “able”? Language is so confusing. Don’t bother commenting on this, by the way. I know there are rules for when to use each suffix. I just can’t be bothered to care about those rules.

Anyway, it’s usually hard to photograph spiders in their shelters because they’re hiding. Which is the point, of course. I was able to gently encourage this one to come out and say hello, briefly. I took a couple quick photos before it crawled back into hiding and I left it alone.

A jumping spider in its silken shelter.
Robber fly on big bluestem flower.
An exposed bird dropping moth on Maximilian sunflower. I love its tiny “unicorn horn” above its head.
Sideoats grama and dew.

Nebraska has 10 species of goldenrod, not counting two Euthamia species which are often called “grassleaf goldenrods”. That count comes from the Flora of Nebraska, which keeps Solidago altissimum as a variety of Canada goldenrod, not a separate species. Those 10 species, though, do include stiff goldenrod, even though botanists have changed its genus from Solidago to Oligoneuron. Ah, taxonomy. More rules.

The point is, there are a lot of goldenrod-ish plants in our prairies, all of which are really pretty. I don’t know that I have a favorite, but it’s really hard to resist the charms of soft, or velvet goldenrod (Solidago mollis). It’s a terrific mixed grass prairie plant – tough, stocky (staulky?), and able to withstand the dynamic and sometimes harsh conditions of central Nebraska grasslands. There are some big patches of the plant at our family prairie, as well as up in the Sandhills prairie at the Niobrara Valley Preserve, so I’ve seen it a lot lately.

If you look closely at goldenrod flowers this time of year, you’ll see a lot of insect visitors, including bees, butterflies, and other pollinators. You’ll also see a fair number of beetles, including a lot of goldenrod soldier beetles. The one I notice most, though, is the black blister beetle (Epicauta pensylvanica), And, no, there’s not a double N in pensylvanica. Don’t blame me – I’m not in charge of words or rules about words.

A black blister beetle on velvet goldenrod (Solidago mollis). Helzer family prairie.

Blister beetles can excrete a yellow substance that does indeed cause blisters, but I’ve never had that happen to me. I’ve let some crawl on my hands and have photographed a lot of them. I just don’t squeeze them or otherwise make them feel threatened.

The black blister beetle’s larvae start out very mobile after hatching and will find and feed on the eggs of grasshoppers. I haven’t found any reports that they hitchhike on adult grasshoppers to find those eggs, but I wouldn’t be shocked if they do. After all, their cousins the oil beetles hitchhike on bees to get to bee nests. Either way, it’s fun to see black blister beetles every year, and while they feed on lots of plants, I always associate them with late summer goldenrods.

Blister beetle on stiff goldenrod at the Helzer Family Prairie.

My last photo might be my favorite of the month so far, but it’s also one of the most recent, which exposes a big bias of mine. I saw a lot of katydids at Gjerloff Prairie yesterday morning before I had to run back to town to give a presentation to a college class (virtually). This one was one of the last I saw and I spent quite a bit of time photographing it. The sun had finally started to break through some horizon-hugging clouds and was making the dew drops all around me sparkle. I tried a lot of camera angles before I finally got what I wanted – partial sky blurred in the background, along with some sparkly drops to help frame the image.

A katydid warming up on a dewy, sparkly morning at Gjerloff Prairie.

I also spotted the first migratory (I assume) variegated meadowhawk dragonfly of the fall yesterday morning, roosting in the tall grass at Gjerloff. That’s usually my best signal for the change of seasons. I didn’t get a chance to photograph that particular dragonfly because I came across it well before it was light enough for a good photo. That’s ok, it still counts as my autumn indicator (along with the fact I had to wear layers to stay warm during my pre-sunrise walk), so happy autumn everyone!