Aug 122014
 

It was another incredibly muggy, rather gray afternoon in the midst of the August dog days, and I languidly and drippingly made my way down Piney Woods Church Road.  I was not expecting drama or excitement, but was hoping not to fall back on another image of a leaf illuminated by the Sun (assuming sufficient sunlight in the first place) or a second day photographing a caterpillar that looks like bird poop. I was delighted to find a black winged insect with a yellow-and-black striped body dashing about, pollinating a nondescript low shrub with clusters of small white flowers along the roadside. (The shrubby plant was later identified as Pycnanthemum incanum, Hoary Mountainmint or White Horsemint.)  I enthusiastically took many photographs, settling on the three below as I fell short of “the perfect photo” of the creature.  Having guessed a few weeks ago that an insect was a wasp only to find out it was, in fact, a hover fly (see “Party Time at the Cleyera” for that story), I naturally assumed it was a hover fly again.  Someone at Facebook’s Bug Guide kindly set me right.  This time, I had a pair of solitary wasps in my sights:  Monobia quadridens, a species of potter’s wasp that feeds on a mixed diet of caterpillars and pollen (top photo); and Scolia bicincta, the Double-Banded Scoliid Wasp (bottom two photos, which feeds on nectar and lays its eggs on immobilized scarab beetle grubs.

 

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Aug 062014
 

Another plant came into flower along Piney Woods Church Road, which is a fairly uncommon event at the height of midsummer.  The blooming vine is covered with a profusion of white blossoms with four petals and yellow stigmas (the uppermost portion of the pistil).  It has a delicate beauty though no noticeable fragrance.  I was disappointed to find that it is an invasive species from China or Japan with quite a melodramatic name :  Sweet Autumn Virginsbower (Clematis terniflora).  Originally introduced as an ornamental plant, it is now found throughout the Southeast along forest edges and rights-of-way.  Ah, well.  If I am to be a photographer of dirt road landscapes, I will become familiar indeed with many invasive species on my journeys.

 

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Aug 042014
 

Late this afternoon, along Piney Woods Church Road, I met up with a beautiful bug with a dreadful name.  It is the Rough Stink Bug (Brochymena quadripustulata).  Another insect ID book on my shelf uses the Latin to assign it the common name of Four-blistered Bronchymena, which I suppose is a little better, though it is quite a mouthful and carries the unpleasant image of blisters.  (The Rough Stink Bug, as you can see in the photograph below, has a number of raised orange-red spots, including four on its upper thorax which are responsible for its Latin species name.)  I came across this creature resting on the trunk of a pin cherry tree.  According to one field guide, it dines on the sap of many trees, including cherry, though it occasionally feeds instead on larvae and pupae of other insects.  The other field guide claims instead that it feeds only on “the juices of caterpillars and other soft insects”.  Predatory or no, if I were a caterpillar I would err on the safe side and stay well away from the Rough Stink Bug.

 

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Jul 182014
 

On an overcast early evening with just a hint of drizzle, I set out on my daily exploration of Piney Woods Church Road.  I was not inspired by the diffuse lighting, no matter how often I have read that cloudy days are supposedly beloved by macro-photographers.  And for a second time in two days, I found myself photographing ripening berries of a Chinese Privet shrub (Ligustrum sinense).  They add splashes of red to the landscape, I grant that.  But they also carry the progeny of what is among the worst invasive plant species in the Piedmont of Georgia.  Each little berry is a future privet plant, choking out native vegetation wherever it grows, from road edge to the forest’s heart.  While I was able to find some beauty in the privet flowers in the springtime, berries are another matter entirely.

A short distance down the road from the privet horde, several cherry saplings were partially covered in web tents.  A number of skeletonized leaves hung like white veils, their life-force converted into the ever-growing bodies of Fall Webworms (Hyphantria cunea).  Inside the tents, tiny pale yellow caterpillars with black spots were gathered — in places, clustered by the dozens, and in other spots, further apart.  As their name suggests, Fall Webworms actually do most of their damage later in the season, when the caterpillars are much larger. Already, though, there are several tents on each of a half-dozen trees in the immediate vicinity, including a persimmon in our backyard.  Fall Webworm tents get much bigger even than those of Eastern Tent Caterpillars, with which I was already familiar.  Unchecked, they can even defoliate entire trees.  Oh, well.  At least they aren’t actually invasive….

For today’s post, I bring both images together.  If there is anything that one might classify as evil in the local landscape, it is embodied in the Chinese Privet and the Fall Webworm.  I am working hard on appreciating these two.  After all, they are both quite common now, and I have resolved to celebrate the commonplace in nature.  I haven’t gotten there yet, but I haven’t given up, either.  I suspect that both the berries and the caterpillars provide food for songbirds of some kind, and that’s a start.  And at least they also offer the prospect of bad puns….

 

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Jul 152014
 

Walking along the woods’ edge on Rico Road this morning, I glimpsed a pair of huge white flowers with purple centers, perhaps four inches across, on a vine with heart-shaped leaves.  The flowers were at head height, on a vine hanging from tree branches.  They looked like blooms that belonged in a tropical rainforest somewhere.

A member of the morning glory family (Convolvulaceae), the Wild Sweet Potato (Ipomoea pandurata) is native to much of the Eastern United States, despite it exotic appearance.  The bulb of the vine is described by an Illinois wildflowers website as being “edible (barely) when cooked”, and was evidently eaten by Native Amerindians, according to the same source.  Cooking was clearly essential; the Peterson Field Guide to Edible Wild Plants of Eastern and Central North America notes that roots have purgative properties if eaten raw.

For my own part, I think I will be satisfied with appreciating the stunning flowers.

 

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Jul 132014
 

Today did not begin well. I heard a hissing in the wall behind the shower — the plumbing equivalent of discovering an unexpected lump somewhere on the body.  Instead of setting out at 9:15 am, when the temperature was a pleasant 74 degrees, I set out an hour and a quarter and a couple of telephone calls later, very much distracted.  For the first time in ages, I walked from one end of Piney Woods Church Road to the other without taking a single photograph, the Sun all the time climbing still higher in the sky.  On my return journey, I halfheartedly took a few photographs of brightly colored fallen laves on the road and backlit green leaves with shadows — nothing inspired, but something to fall back on if necessary.  I still felt no particular worry.  For 193 days, I had walked the same stretch of roadway, finding at least one moment of wonder every single time.  And today was no exception.

About halfway back to Rico Rd., I discovered this spider in the center of a huge web at head-height, oriented perpendicular to the road edge.  It is sometimes called the Crab Spider,, because it is shaped rather like a crab with paired spines along its abdomen.  According to Spiders of the Carolinas, it is actually a Spined Micrathena (Micrathena gracilis).  Like most all Georgia spiders, it is harmless to people, and can even be handled safely by its spines, though I am not clear why one would opt to do that.  It is an abundant spider of mixed open hardwoods, like the forest strip edging Piney Woods Church Road.

 

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Jul 092014
 

On my way to Piney Woods Church Road today, I paid more attention than usual to Rico roadside.  Part of that was self-preservation — cars and trucks were flying by at near-lightning speeds, drivers miles away, ensconced in their own words.  Part was because I was looking for a wildflower I had seen the day before, and even after locating it, I maintained my same level of attention to my surroundings.  The result was a delightful discovery of a white and creamy yellow moth, about an inch long, motionless in plain view.  Later I learned that this particular moth, a Delicate Cycnia or Dogbane Tiger Moth (Cycnia tenera) feeds on dogbanes and milkweeds as a caterpillar, taking into its body the same cardiac glycoside that makes Monarch Butterflies immune to predators.  With little to fear from the skies, this particular moth did not so much as twitch, even when I drew my camera up close to take this photograph.

 

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Jul 082014
 

The large black and white Widow Skimmer (Libellula luctuosa) is unique among most dragonflies in Georgia, in that it often strays a considerable distance from open water.  To see most dragonflies, it is necessary to visit a wetland, or perhaps a stream or lake edge.  But Widow Skimmers are content with suburban backyards, provided there are good locations for perching and the opportunity to catch prey.  About halfway down Piney Woods Church Road, just past the now-vacant cattle pasture, there is a road bank beside a ditch that has been allowed to grow wild.  I met up with a Widow Skimmer there today, swooping from perch to perch, sometimes pausing to rest and other times racing onward.  It circled the island of wild foliage a few times, and I managed to take its photograph, though some of my images were at such slow shutter speeds that they are in less than stellar focus.  This one is among the best of the lot — not quite frame-worthy, but much better resolution than most of the Loch Ness Monster images out there.  I will learn patience, and return, and try again on another day.

 

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Jul 062014
 

Our yard on Rico Road has become a haven for White-Tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus).  Going up the driveway around sunset, I sometimes find half a dozen deer about. This time of year, I will often glimpse one or two hanging out beneath our pear tree, undoubtedly waiting for the pears to ripen.  Lately, I have seen spotted fawns in the front yard.  For all that, though, I have rarely seen deer along Piney Woods Church Road. Tonight, at last, almost as an afterthought — I had already taken plenty of photos on my walk, plus spent half an hour chatting with a friend who lives along the road — I glimpsed a pair of deer in a roadside pasture.  By the time my camera was at the ready, the closer of the two was already preparing to flee.  Still, the result is a pleasant image — and, at long last, deer are included among the Piney Woods Church images.  There are so few wild mammal photographs out of the 187 so far.  I can think of only one other photograph, in fact — and Eastern Gray Squirrel.  Insects tend to be slower and more willing to sit still.

 

Oh, Deer!

Jun 292014
 

dflyThis article and the photograph accompanying it are the fruits of a naturalist’s recent adventure at Melvin L. Newman Wetlands Center, administered by the Clayton County Water Authority and located just south of Jonesboro, Georgia.  On a sunny afternoon stroll along the boardwalks, bridges, and gravel paths there, this author encountered dragons, damsels, and even a robber awaiting its next victim.  And he returned from his journey with numerous photographs to share as evidence of his exploits, included as a slide show.  Yes, it is true that they were all insects:  dragonflies, damselflies, and robber flies.  But they were particularly intriguing and colorful ones, nonetheless, and made fitting characters for a natural history flight of fancy in the midst of a Georgia summer.

The wetland edges were filled with dragonflies  where the waters were still, and occasional damselflies near flowing sections.  The insects were typically either flying about or perching on a cattail or other bit of tall vegetation.  Dragonflies and damselflies are insects belonging to the order Odonata, also known as odonates.  Odonates are characterized by having long, slender bodies with two sets of veined wings and large compound eyes.They also have life cycles with two parts.  After hatching, odonate larvae live underwater in streams and ponds, preying on other insect larvae (including mosquitoes).  During the larval stage, they tend to be dull in color, enabling them to blend into the rocks, mud, and underwater vegetation to avoid being eaten by a fish, turtle, frog, or bird.  Then, after going through several molts enabling the larvae to grow, they climb up out of the water for a final molt, emerging as a winged adult.  As adults, they are swift and fierce predators of other insects (including adult mosquitoes).  Many are brightly colored, with brilliant shades of blue, green, and red, like flying jewels.  (Indeed, one common damselfly in Piedmont Georgia, present at Newman Wetlands Center, is called the ebony jewelwing.)

While dragonflies and damselflies do not appear to have lived in Middle Earth (at least not as described by Tolkien in The Lord of the Rings), they were abundant way back in the Carboniferous Period, over 300 million years ago, long before there were mammals or even dinosaurs.  Fossils reveal that the early dragonflies were enormous, with wingspans up to one meter.  In that time before birds or even pterodactyls, they were the mighty predators of the air, patrolling the Carboniferous swamps where tree ferns and giant club mosses grew.

While odonates are much smaller nowadays, several Georgia dragonflies have bodies approaching 6 cm in length, with 10 cm wingspans.  They are are at once fabulous and frustrating to photograph.  Odonates are large and often dazzling in color, making them easy to spot.  They frequently  rest atop high vegetation, sometimes perching there to watch for prey, other times pointing the abdomens into the air in a behavior known as obelisking (a means of keeping cool by reducing exposure to the sun).  Dragonflies, in this writer’s experience, tend to be more willing subjects for the photographer, frequently landing a few feet away along a boardwalk or on a nearby cattail stalk.  If disturbed, they often take off, only to circle for a moment and then land again in nearly the same location as before.  Damselflies, on the other hand, are exceedingly coy.  They seem to sense when a photographer is getting ready to take a picture, dashing off to another branch a bit further way.  Once the photographer has focused on the damselfly on its new perch, it abruptly takes off again.

Besides these behavioral distinctions (which may have had more to do with the particular odonate specimens that this author encountered on his walk) there are a couple of important anatomical differences between dragonflies and damselflies.  Dragonflies belong to the sub-order Anisoptera, roughly meaning “unequal wings”, in reference to the fact that their two sets of wings are not the same size.  They also tend to have larger. stockier bodies.  At rest, they spread their wings out horizontally.  Damselflies, on the other hand, belong to the sub-order Zygoptera, “equal wings”.  Their sets of wings are the same size, and at rest, nearly all damselflies hold their wings vertically (though there is a group of damselflies called the spreadwings that doesn’t follow that pattern).  In general, damselflies tend to be much smaller and daintier than dragonflies.

Dragonflies were especially abundant and diverse; this author photographed members of four different species and glimpsed a few others that got away without being captured by the lens.  After a couple of attempts, he also photographed a lone species of damselfly.  Fortunately, Giff Beaton recently published Dragonflies and Damselflies of Georgia and the Southeast.  As a result of the superb photographs and species accounts in that guide, this author was able to identify each odonate to the species level with ease, and even determine whether the subjects were immature or adult and male or female.

There was a single robber fly sighting, too.  It was resting on a wooden fence in the shade toward the end of this writer’s walk.  Close up, it has a fairly ferocious appearance that fits its character well. A master predator, its victims commonly include bees and wasps, which it consumes by sucking the juices from their bodies.  Members of the family Asilidae, robber flies are quite diverse in and of themselves, although decidedly less colorful and elegant than their odonate cousins.  Not yet having merited a common field guide devoted to them, robber flies cannot be classified down to the species level using rudimentary guidebooks (such as the National Audobon Society’s otherwise excellent Field Guide to Insects & Spiders).

The result of the afternoon adventure is a collection of photographs, along with memories of “the ones that got away”.  The reader might argue that this author’s exploits fall short of deserving a poetic cycle in the style of Homer, or even an ode, for that matter.  But there is some satisfaction, this writer believes, in knowing that hunting for dragonflies and damselflies is actually becoming a popular pastime (if not yet on the scale of birding).  Named after the odonates themselves, the hobby is known as oding.

This article was originally published on 5 July 2010.