I caught this red-banded leafhopper (Graphocephala coccinea) resting on a sweetgum leaf along Piney Woods Church Road this afternoon. Although common, they are quite small (less than half an inch in length), and easily overlooked (unless they have become a plague in one’s garden). Because they feed on the sap of plants, they are generally considered agricultural pests. I still find them fascinating, with their almost alien shape and brilliant coloration.
My wife found this swamp milkweed leaf beetle (Labidomera clivicollis) while weeding in the garden (which, at the moment, is basically just weeds). True to form, it was perched on a milkweed leaf. We planted the milkweeds a couple of years ago to attract monarchs. No monarchs yet, but we have found all sorts of other creatures on them. Milkweed plants, we have found, also have a penchant for spreading willy-nilly in a garden.
On my walk home today along Hutcheson Ferry Road, I noticed this banded flower longhorn beetle (Typocerus velutinus) resting on an English daisy flower head. The larvae of this beetle feed on decaying hardwood trees, while the adults, not surprisingly, dine on nectar and pollen.
On my way back down Piney Woods Church Road toward home today, I stopped to visit with a neighbor and dear friend. He showed me his native azalea, in full bloom along the side of his house. As we stood there admiring its showy, brilliant orange blossoms and delicate, honeysuckle-like scent, a large moth appeared. I had never seen its kind before; it had brilliant black and yellow banding on its abdomen. Several field guides and a Google search later, I determined that it was a Nessus Sphinx moth (Amphion floridensis). Common throughout the eastern United States, this moth is fairly unusual for being active during the daylight hours, feeding on the nectar of various plants. The caterpillar larva’s host plants include amplelopsis, cayenne pepper, and grapevines. Considering the local habitat offerings, I suspect that it fed on wild grape leaves.
While struggling (and largely failing) to take an interesting photograph of Chinese privet flowers, I caught this pair of ladybugs mating on a leaf. It’s springtime, and love is in the air. My wife suggested that this could make a great Valentine’s Day card, but I am not as certain.
I have always been fond of bumblebees. They have a charming furriness about them, and they are not very aggressive toward humans — certainly compared with paper wasps and yellowjackets. They have such charming alternative early English names, too — the drumbledrane, the dumbledore, or, the one which Charles Darwin knew them by, the humblebee. I photographed this one ambling from one henbit bloom to another on a delightfully mild spring afternoon.
It’s a moth…. It’s a bee…. It’s a fly….
I have to admit that, as flies go, the black-tailed bee fly (Bombylius major) is quite attractive — a hedgehog with wings. Admittedly, one has to get past its rather long and pointy proboscis. But that is a tool for sipping nectar, not causing harm. The flies hover like hummingbirds over flowers, their beating wings generating a high-pitched whining sound. Bee fly larvae parasitize the larvae of solitary bees and consume their food stores. The adult bee flies supposedly emerge from their underground bee burrows in early summer; this particular one seems to be a couple of months early.
