Photo of the Day

The shade-loving Shadow Darner (Aeshna umbrosa) is a common species of resident dragonfly in the lower Susquehanna basin.  Females deposit their eggs on aquatic vegetation in clean still waters, including those found in marshy sections of streams, beaver ponds, and even, on occasion, garden pools, as long as they aren’t overpopulated with large fish.  Shadow Darners are the most likely of the dragonflies to be noticed cruising in search of prey at dusk and are the last to be seen during the season, sometimes still found hawking small insects on warm days in November.  As you may have guessed, they are quite fond of consuming mosquitoes.

They Call Me the Wanderer

It’s been an atypical summer.  The lower Susquehanna River valley has been in a cycle of heavy rains for over a month and stream flooding has been a recurring event.  At Conewago Falls, the Pothole Rocks have been inundated for weeks.  The location used as a lookout for the Autumn Migration Count last fall is at the moment submerged in ten feet of roaring water.  Any attempt to tally the migrants which are passing thru in 2018 will thus be delayed indefinitely.  Of greater import, the flooding at Conewago Falls is impacting many of the animals and plants there at a critical time in their annual life cycle.  Having been displaced from its usual breeding sites on the river, one insect species in particular seems to be omnipresent in upland areas right now, and few people have ever heard of it.

So, you take a cruise in the motorcar to your favorite store and arrive at the sprawling parking lot.  Not wishing to have your doors dented or paint chipped because you settled for a space tightly packed among other shopper’s conveyances, you park out there in the “boondocks”.  You know the place, the lightly-used portion of the lot where sometimes brush grows from cracks in the asphalt and you must be on alert for impatient consumers who throttle-up to high speeds and dash diagonally across the carefully painted grids on the pavement to reach their favorite parking destination in the front row.  Coming to a stop, you take the car out of gear, set the brake, disengage the safety belt, and gather your shopping list.  You grasp the door handle and, not wanting to be flattened  by one of the aforementioned motorists, you have a look around before exiting.

It was then that you saw the thing, hovering above your shiny bright hood.  For a brief moment, it seemed to be peering right through the windshield at you with big reddish-brown eyes.  In just a second or two, it turned its whole bronze body ninety degrees to the left and darted away on its cellophane wings.  Maybe you didn’t really get a good look at it.  It was so fast.  But it certainly was odd.  Oh well, time to walk inside a grab a few provisions.  Away you go.

Upon completion of your shopping, you’re taking the long stroll back to your car and you notice more of these peculiar creatures.  Two are coupled together and are hovering above someone’s automobile hood, then they drop down, and the lower of the two taps its abdomen on the paint.  You ask yourself, “What are these bizarre things?”

Meet the Wandering Glider (Pantala flavescens), also known as the Globe Wanderer or Globe Skimmer, a wide-ranging dragonfly known to occur on every continent with the exception of Antarctica.

Wandering Gliders sometimes arrive in the lower Susquehanna River valley in large numbers after catching a ride on sustained winds from southerly directions and will often fly and migrate in storm systems.  Conditions for such movements have been optimal in our region since mid-July.  These dragonflies will often hover above motor vehicle hoods and, after mating, females will deposit eggs upon them, apparently mistaking their glossy surface for small pools of water.

Wandering Gliders travel the globe, and as such are accomplished fliers.  Adults spend most of the day on the wing, feeding upon a variety of flying insects.  Days ago, I watched several intercepting a swarm of flying ants.  As fast as ants left the ground they were grabbed and devoured by the gliders.  Wandering Gliders are adept at taking day-flying mosquitos, often zipping stealthily past a person’s head or shoulders to grab one of the little pests—the would-be skeeter victim usually unaware of the whole affair.

Due to their nomadic life history, Wandering Gliders are opportunists when breeding and will lay eggs in most any body of freshwater.  Their larvae do not overwinter prior to maturity; adults can be expected in a little more than one to two months.  Repetitive flooding in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed this summer may be reducing the availability of the best local breeding sites for this species—riverine, stream, and floodplain pools of standing water with prey.  This may explain why thousands of Wandering Gliders are patrolling parking lots, farmlands, and urban areas this summer.  And it’s the likely reason for their use of puddles on asphalt pavement, on rubber roofs, and in fields as places to try to deposit eggs.  Unfortunately, they may be as likely to succeed there as they are on your motor vehicle hood.

At this time a year ago, the airspace above the Diabase Pothole Rocks at Conewago Falls was jammed with territorial male Wandering Gliders.  Each male hovered at various locations around his breeding territory consisting of pools and water-filled potholes.  Intruders would quickly be dispatched from the area, then the male would resume his patrols from a set of repetitively-used hovering positions about six feet above the rocks.  Mating and egg-laying continued into late September.  The larvae, also called nymphs or naiads, were readily observed in many pools and potholes in early October and the emergence of juveniles was noted in mid-October.  The absence of flooding, the mild autumn weather, and the moderation of water temperatures in the pools and potholes courtesy of the sun-drenched diabase boulders helped to extend the 2017 breeding season for Wandering Gliders in Conewago Falls.  They aren’t likely to experience the same favor this year, but their great ability to travel and adapt should overcome this momentary misfortune.

A male Wandering Glider aggressively patrols his territory in the Diabase Pothole Rocks Microhabitat at Conewago Falls.  August 20, 2017.
A mating pair of Wandering Gliders continue flying non-stop above one of thousands of suitable breeding pools among the Diabase Pothole Rocks at Conewago Falls.  September 23, 2017.
A female (bottom)Wandering Glider has deposited eggs in a pool while flying in tandem with a male (top).  They’ll do the same thing on your automobile hood!  Conewago Falls Diabase Pothole Rocks Microhabitat.  September 23, 2017.
Wandering Glider larvae are at the top of the food chain in flooded potholes.  As they grew, these dragonfly larvae decimated the mosquito larvae which were abundant there earlier in the summer.  October 7, 2017.
A juvenile male Wandering Glider emerges from the pool where it fed and grew as a larva.  It remained at water’s edge on the surface of a sun-warmed diabase rock for several hours to dry its wings.  It soon flew away to parts unknown, possibly traveling hundreds or thousands of miles.  Look carefully at the wings for the beige dash marks on the forward edge near the terminal end.  Females lack this marking.  Conewago Falls Diabase Pothole Rocks Microhabitat.  October 14, 2017.
A Wandering Glider exuviae, the shed exoskeleton of a creature gone, but not forgotten.  October 14, 2017.

 

Shocking Fish Photos!

There are two Conewago Creek systems in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed.  One drains the Gettysburg Basin west of the river, mostly in Adams and York Counties, then flows into the Susquehanna at the base of Conewago Falls.  The other drains the Gettysburg Basin east of the river, flowing through Triassic redbeds of the Gettysburg Formation and York Haven Diabase before entering Conewago Falls near the south tip of Three Mile Island.  Both Conewago Creeks flow through suburbia, farm, and forest.  Both have their capacity to support aquatic life impaired and diminished by nutrient and sediment pollution.

This week, some of the many partners engaged in a long-term collaboration to restore the east shore’s Conewago Creek met to have a look at one of the prime indicators of overall stream habitat health—the fishes.  Kristen Kyler of the Lower Susquehanna Initiative organized the effort.  Portable backpack-mounted electrofishing units and nets were used by crews to capture, identify, and count the native and non-native fishes at sampling locations which have remained constant since prior to the numerous stream improvement projects which began more than ten years ago.  Some of the present-day sample sites were first used following Hurricane Agnes in 1972 by Stambaugh and Denoncourt and pre-date any implementation of sediment and nutrient mitigation practices like cover crops, no-till farming, field terracing, stormwater control, nutrient management, wetland restoration, streambank fencing, renewed forested stream buffers, or modernized wastewater treatment plants.  By comparing more recent surveys with this baseline data, it may be possible to discern trends in fish populations resulting not only from conservation practices, but from many other variables which may impact the Conewago Creek Warmwater Stream ecosystem in Dauphin, Lancaster, and Lebanon Counties.

So here they are.  Enjoy these shocking fish photos.

Matt Kofroth, Watershed Specialist with the Lancaster County Conservation District, operates the electrofishing wand in Conewago Creek while his team members prepare to net and collect momentarily-stunned fish.  Three other electrofishing units operated by staff from the Susquehanna River Basin Commission and aided by teams of netters were in action at other sample locations along the Conewago on this day.
Really big fish, such as this Common Carp (Cyprinus carpio), were identified, counted, and immediately returned to the water downstream of the advancing electrofishing team.  Koi of the garden pond are a familiar variety of Common Carp, a native of Asia.
Other fish, such as the Swallowtail Shiner, Redbreast Sunfish (Lepomis auritus), Fallfish, and suckers seen here,  were placed in a sorting tank.
Fallfish (Semotilus corporalis) are very active and require plenty of dissolved oxygen in the water to survive.  Fallfish, Rainbow Trout (Oncorhynchus mykiss), and Smallmouth Bass (Micropterus dolomieu) were quickly identified and removed from the sorting tank for release back into the stream.  Other larger, but less active fish, including suckers, quickly followed.
Small fish like minnows were removed from the sorting tank for a closer look in a hand-held viewing tank.  This Fathead Minnow (Pimephales promelas) was identified, added to the tally sheet, and released back into the Conewago.  The Fathead Minnow is not native to the Susquehanna drainage.  It is the minnow most frequently sold as bait by vendors.
A breeding condition male Bluntnose Minnow (Pimephales notatus).
The Cutlips Minnow (Exoglossum maxillingua) is a resident of clear rocky streams.  Of the more than 30 species collected during the day, two native species which are classified as intolerant of persisting stream impairment were found: Cutlips Minnow and Swallowtail Shiner.
This young River Chub (Nocomis micropogon) is losing its side stripe.  It will be at least twice as large at adulthood.
The Eastern Blacknose Dace (Rhinichthys atratulus) is found in clear water over pebble and stone substrate..
The Longnose Dace (Rhinichthys cataractae) is another species of pebbly rocky streams.
A juvenile Golden Shiner (Notemigonus crysoleucas).  Adults lack the side stripe and grow to the size of a sunfish.
A Swallowtail Shiner (Notropis procne) and a very young White Sucker (Catostomus commersonii) in the upper left of the tank.
A Spotfin Shiner (Cyprinella spiloptera).
A breeding male Spotfin Shiner.  Show-off!
The Margined Madtom (Noturus insignis) is a small native catfish of pebbly streams.
The Banded Killifish (Fundulus diaphanus) is adept at feeding upon insects, including mosquitos.
A young Rock Bass (Ambloplites rupestris).  This species was introduced to the Susquehanna and its tributaries.
The Greenside Darter (Etheostoma blennioides) is not native to the Susquehanna basin.  The species colonized the Conewago Creek (east) from introduced local populations within the last five years.
The Tessellated Darter (Etheostoma olmstedi) is a native inhabitant of the Susquehanna and its tributaries.
The stars of the day were the American Eels (Anguilla rostrata).
After collection, each eel was measured and weighed using a scale and dry bucket.  This specimen checked in at 20 inches and one pound before being released.
Prior to the construction of large dams, American Eels were plentiful in the Susquehanna and its tributaries, including the Conewago.  They’ve since been rarities for more than half a century.  Now they’re getting a lift.
American Eels serve as an intermediate host for the microscopic parasitic glochidia (larvae) of the Eastern Elliptio (Elliptio complanata), a declining native freshwater mussel of the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed.  While feeding on their host (usually in its gills), the glochidia cause little injury and soon drop off to continue growth, often having assured distribution of their species by accepting the free ride.  Freshwater mussels are filter feeders and improve water quality.  They grow slowly and can live for decades.
American Eels are a catadromous species, starting life as tiny glass eels in the saltwater of the Atlantic Ocean, then migrating to tidal brackish marshes and streams (males) or freshwater streams (females) to mature.  This 20-incher probably attempted to ascend the Susquehanna as an elver in 2016 or 2017.  After hitching a ride with some friendly folks, she bypassed the three largest dams on the lower Susquehanna (Conowingo, Holtwood, and Safe Harbor) and arrived in the Conewago where she may remain and grow for ten years or more.  To spawn, a perilous and terminally fatal journey to the Sargasso Sea awaits her.  (You may better know the area of the Sargasso Sea as The Bermuda Triangle…a perilous place to travel indeed!)

SOURCES

Normandeau Associates,  Inc. and Gomez and Sullivan.  2018.  Muddy Run Pumped Storage Project Conowingo Eel Collection Facility FERC Project 2355.  Prepared for Exelon.

Stambaugh, Jr., John W., and Robert P. Denoncourt.  1974.  A Preliminary Report on the Conewago Creek Faunal Survey, Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.  Proceedings of the Pennsylvania Academy of Sciences.  48: 55-60.

The Antagonist

They can be a pesky nuisance.  The annoying high-frequency buzzing is bad enough, but it’s the quiet ones that get you.  While you were swatting at the noisy one, the silent gender sticks you and begins to feed.  Maybe you know it, or maybe you don’t.   She could make you itch and scratch.  If she’s carrying a blood-borne pathogen, you could get sick and possibly die.

To humans, mosquitos are the most dangerous animal in the world (though not in the United States where man himself and the domestic dog are more of a threat).  Globally, the Anopheles mosquitos that spread Malaria have been responsible for millions and millions of human deaths.  Some areas of Africa are void of human habitation due to the prevalence of Malaria-spreading Anopheles mosquitos.  In the northeastern United States, the Northern House Mosquito (Culex pipiens), as the carrier of West Nile Virus, is the species of greatest concern.  Around human habitations, standing water in tires, gutters, and debris are favorite breeding areas.  Dumping stagnant water helps prevent the rapid reproduction of this mosquito.

In recent years, the global distribution of these mosquito-borne illnesses has been one of man’s inadvertent accomplishments.  An infected human is the source of pathogens which the feeding mosquito transmits to another unsuspecting victim.  Infectious humans, traveling the globe, have spread some of these diseases to new areas or reintroduced them to sectors of the world where they were thought to have been eliminated.  Additionally, where the specific mosquito carrier of a disease is absent, the mobility of man and his cargos has found a way to transport them there.  Aedes aegypti, the “Yellow Fever Mosquito”, carrier of its namesake and the Zeka Virus, has found passage to much of the world including the southern United States.  Unlike other species, Aedes aegypti dwells inside human habitationsthus transmitting disease rapidly from person to person.  Another non-native species, the Asian Tiger Mosquito (Aedes albopictus), vector of Dengue Fever in the tropics, arrived in Houston in 1985 in shipments of used tires from Japan and in Los Angeles in 2001 in wet containers of “lucky bamboo” from Taiwan…some luck.

Asian Tiger Mosquito in action during the daylight hours, typical behavior of the genus. This species has been found in the area of Conewago Falls since at least 2013.

Poor mosquito, despite the death, suffering, and misery it has brought to Homo sapiens and other species around the planet, it will never be the most destructive animal on earth.  You, my bloodthirsty friends, will place second at best.  You see, mosquitos get no respect, even if they do create great wildlife sanctuaries by scaring people away.

The winner knows how to wipe out other species and environs not only to ensure its own survival, but, in many of its populations, to provide leisure, luxury, gluttony, and amusement.  This species possesses the cognitive ability to think and reason.  It can contemplate its own existence and the concepts of time.  It is aware of its history, the present, and its future, though its optimism about the latter may be its greatest delusion.  Despite possessing intellect and a capacity to empathize, it is devious, sinister, and selfish in its treatment of nearly every other living thing around it.  Its numbers expand and its consumption increases.  It travels the world carrying pest and disease to all its corners.  It pollutes the water, land, and air.  It has developed language, culture, and social hierarchies which create myths and superstitions to subdue the free will of its masses.   Ignoring the gift of insight to evaluate the future, it continues to reproduce without regard for a means of sustenance.  It is the ultimate organism, however, its numbers will overwhelm its resources.  The crowning distinction will be the extinction.

Homo sapiens will be the first animal to cause a mass extinction of life on earth.  The forces of nature and the cosmos need to wait their turn; man will take care of the species annihilation this time around.  The plants, animals, and clean environment necessary for a prosperous healthy life will cease to exist.  In the end, humans will degenerate, live in anguish, and leave no progeny.  Fate will do to man what he has done to his co-inhabitants of the planet.

The Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus) is again a breeding species in the Susquehanna River watershed.  It is generally believed that during the mid-twentieth century, Dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane (DDT) pesticide residues accumulated in female top-of-the-food-chain birds including Bald Eagles.  As a result, thinner egg shells were produced.  These shells usually cracked during incubation, leading to failed reproduction in entire populations of birds, particularly those that fed upon fish or waterfowl.  In much of the developed world, DDT was used liberally during the mid-twentieth century to combat Malaria by killing mosquitos.  It was widely used throughout the United States as a general insecticide until it was banned here in 1972.  (Editors Note:  There is the possibility that polychlorinated biphenyls [P.C.B.s] and other industrial pollutants contributed to the reproductive failure of birds at the apex of aquatic food chains.  Just prior to the recovery of these troubled species, passage of the Clean Water Act in 1972 initiated reductions in toxic discharges from point sources into streams, rivers, lakes, bays, and oceans.  Production of P.C.B.s was banned in the United States in 1978.  Today, P.C.B.s from former discharge and dumping sites continue to be found in water.  Spills can still occur from sources including old electric transformers.)
To substitute any other beast would be folly.  Man, the human, Homo sapiens, the winner and champion, will repeatedly avail himself as the antagonist during our examination of the wonders of wildlife.  He is the villain.  The tragedy of his self-proclaimed dominion over the living things of the world will wash across these pages like muddy water topping a dam.  There’s nothing I can do about it, aside from fabricating a bad novel with a fictional characterization of man.  So let’s get on with it and take a look at “A Natural History of Conewago Falls”.  Let’s discover the protagonist, the heroic underdog of our story, “Life in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed.”

Over the top today.
SOURCES

Avery, Dennis T.  1995.  Saving the Planet with Pesticides and Plastic: The Environmental Triumph of High-Yield Farming.  Hudson Institute.  Indianapolis, Indiana.

Eaton, Eric R., and Kenn Kaufman.  2007.  Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America.  Houghton Mifflin Co.  New York.

Newman, L.H.  1965.  Man and Insects.  The Natural History Press.  Garden City, New York.