Rosids – Page 2 – LIFE IN THE LOWER SUSQUEHANNA RIVER WATERSHED

May 15, 2022May 15, 2022

The Magi have arrived. Emanating from the shadows of a nearby forest, you may hear the endless drone of what sounds like an extraterrestrial craft. Then you get your first look at those beady red eyes set against a full suit of black armor—out of this world. The Magicicada are here at last.

This exuvia, the leftover from a cicada’s final molt, tells us they are here.

A Brood X Periodical Cicada soon after emergence and final molt.

Not to worry, cicadas are harmless and docile when handled. This is Magicicada septendecim, the largest and most common of our three species of Brood X seventeen-year cicadas. They are currently emerging along south-facing borders of forests and wooded parks and lawns.

Magicicada septendecim can be recognized by the orange on the thorax behind each eye and in front of the wing insertions. The smaller M. cassinii and M. septendecula have no orange coloration between the eye and wing.

Magicicada septendecim (seen here) has broad orange stripes on the abdomen. M. cassinii has an all black abdomen and M. septendecula, the rarest species, has narrow well-defined orange stripes.

If you go out and about to observe Periodical Cicadas, keep an eye open for these species too…

Spotted Lanternflies, one of our most dreaded invasive species, have hatched. These tiny nymphs about 5 millimetres in length were found feeding on a Virginia Creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia), a native vine in the grape family (Vitaceae).

Deer Ticks, also known as Black-legged Ticks, are hanging around on vegetation of all kinds looking to hitch a ride on a suitable host. Don’t let it be you. This adult female, less than 5 millimetres in length, was washed loose during an after-hike shower.

March 23, 2021August 15, 2022

Forest vs. Woodlot

Let’s take a quiet stroll through the forest to have a look around. The spring awakening is underway and it’s a marvelous thing to behold. You may think it a bit odd, but during this walk we’re not going to spend all of our time gazing up into the trees. Instead, we’re going to investigate the happenings at ground level—life on the forest floor.

Rotting logs and leaf litter create the moisture retaining detritus in which mesic forest plants grow and thrive. Note the presence of mosses and a vernal pool in this damp section of forest.

The earliest green leaves in the forest are often those of the Skunk Cabbage (Simplocarpus foetidus). This member of the arum family gets a head start by growing in the warm waters of a spring seep or in a stream-fed wetland. Like many native wildflowers of the forest, Skunk Cabbage takes advantage of early-springtime sun to flower and grow prior to the time in late April when deciduous trees grow foliage and cast shade beneath their canopy.

Among the bark of dead and downed trees, the Mourning Cloak butterfly (Nymphalis antiopa) hibernates for the winter. It emerges to alight on sun-drenched surfaces in late winter and early spring.

Another hibernating forest butterfly that emerges on sunny early-spring days is the Eastern Comma (Polygonia comma), also known as the Hop Merchant.

In a small forest brook, a water strider (Gerridae) chases its shadow using the surface tension of the water to provide buoyancy. Forests are essential for the protection of headwaters areas where our streams get their start.

Often flooded only in the springtime, fish-free pools of water known as vernal ponds are essential breeding habitat for many forest-dwelling amphibians. Unfortunately, these ephemeral wetland sites often fall prey to collecting, dumping, filling, and vandalism by motorized and non-motorized off-roaders, sometimes resulting in the elimination of the populations of frogs, toads, and salamanders that use them.

Wood Frogs (Lithobates sylvaticus) emerge from hiding places among downed timber and leaf litter to journey to a nearby vernal pond where they begin calling still more Wood Frogs to the breeding site.

Wood Frog eggs must hatch and tadpoles must transform into terrestrial frogs before the pond dries up in the summertime. It’s a risky means of reproduction, but it effectively evades the enormous appetites of fish.

When the egg laying is complete, adult Wood Frogs return to the forest and are seldom seen during the rest of the year.

In early spring, Painted Turtles emerge from hideouts in larger forest pools, particularly those in wooded swamps, to bask in sunny locations.

Dead standing trees, often called snags, are essential habitats for many species of forest wildlife. There is an entire biological process, a micro-ecosystem, involved in the decay of a dead tree. It includes fungi, bacteria, and various invertebrate animals that reduce wood into the detritus that nourishes and hydrates new forest growth.

Birds like this Red-headed Woodpecker feed on insects found in large snags and nest almost exclusively in them. Many species of wildlife rely on dead trees, both standing and fallen, during all or part of their lives.

There certainly is more to a forest than the living trees. If you’re hiking through a grove of timber getting snared in a maze of prickly Multiflora Rose (Rosa multiflora) and seeing little else but maybe a wild ungulate or two, then you’re in a has-been forest. Logging, firewood collection, fragmentation, and other man-made disturbances inside and near forests take a collective toll on their composition, eventually turning them to mere woodlots. Go enjoy the forests of the lower Susquehanna valley while you still can. And remember to do it gently; we’re losing quality as well as quantity right now—so tread softly.

The White-tailed Deity in a woodlot infested by invasive tangles of Multiflora Rose.

October 31, 2020August 17, 2022

October Transition

Thoughts of October in the Lower Susquehanna River Watershed bring to mind scenes of brilliant fall foliage adorning wooded hillsides and stream courses, frosty mornings bringing an end to the growing season, and geese and other birds flying south for the winter.

The autumn migration of birds spans a period equaling nearly half the calendar year. Shorebirds and Neotropical perching birds begin moving through as early as late July, just as daylight hours begin decreasing during the weeks following their peak at summer solstice in late June. During the darkest days of the year, those surrounding winter solstice in late December, the last of the southbound migrants, including some hawks, eagles, waterfowl, and gulls, may still be on the move.

The Rough-legged Hawk (Buteo lagopus), a rodent-eating raptor of tundra, grassland, and marsh, is rare as a migrant and winter resident in the lower Susquehanna valley. It may arrive as late as January, if at all.

During October, there is a distinct change in the list of species an observer might find migrating through the lower Susquehanna valley. Reduced hours of daylight and plunges in temperatures—particularly frost and freeze events—impact the food sources available to birds. It is during October that we say goodbye to the Neotropical migrants and hello to those more hardy species that spend their winters in temperate climates like ours.

During several of the first days of October, two hundred Chimney Swifts remained in this roost until temperatures warmed from the low forties at daybreak to the upper fifties at mid-morning; then, at last, the flock ventured out in search of flying insects. When a population of birds loses its food supply or is unable to access it, that population must relocate or perish. Like other insectivorous birds, these swifts must move to warmer climes to be assured a sustained supply of the flying bugs they need to survive. Due to their specialized food source, they can be considered “specialist” feeders in comparison to species with more varied diets, the “generalists”. After returning to this chimney every evening for nearly two months, the swifts departed this roost on October 5 and did not return.

A Northern Parula lingers as an October migrant along the Susquehanna. This and other specialist feeders that survive almost entirely on insects found in the forest canopy are largely south of the Susquehanna watershed by the second week of October.

The Blackpoll Warbler is among the last of the insectivorous Neotropical warblers to pass through the riparian forests of the lower Susquehanna valley each fall. Through at least mid-October, it is regularly seen searching for crawling insects and larvae among the foliage and bark of Northern Hackberry (Celtis occidentalis) trees near Conewago Falls. Most other warblers, particularly those that feed largely upon flying insects, are, by then, already gone.

The Blue-headed Vireo, another insectivore, is the last of the vireo species to pass through the valley. They linger only as long as there are leaves on the trees in which they feed.

Brown Creepers begin arriving in early October. They are specialist feeders, well-adapted to finding insect larvae and other invertebrates among the ridges and peeling bark of trees like this hackberry, even through the winter months.

Ruby-crowned Kinglets can be abundant migrants in October. They will often behave like cute little flycatchers, but quickly transition to picking insects and other invertebrates from foliage and bark as the weather turns frosty. Some may spend the winter here, particularly in the vicinity of stands of pines, which provide cover and some thermal protection during storms and bitter cold.

Beginning in early October, Golden-crowned Kinglets can be seen searching the forest wood for tiny invertebrates. They are the most commonly encountered kinglet in winter.

The Yellow-bellied Sapsucker, a woodpecker, is an October migrant that specializes in attracting small insects to tiny seeps of sap it creates by punching horizontal rows of shallow holes through the tree bark. Some remain for winter.

The Yellow-rumped Warbler arrives in force during October. It is the most likely of the warblers to be found here in winter. Yellow-rumped Warblers are generalists, feeding upon insects during the warmer months, but able to survive on berries and other foods in late fall and winter. Wild foods like these Poison Ivy berries are crucial for the survival of this and many other generalists.

American Robins are most familiar as hunters of earthworms on the suburban lawn, but they are generalist feeders that rely upon fruits like these Eastern Red Cedar (Juniperus virginiana) berries during their southbound migration in late October and early November each year. Robins remain for the winter in areas of the lower Susquehanna valley with ample berries for food and groves of mature pines for roosting.

Like other brown woodland thrushes, the Hermit Thrush (Catharus guttatus) is commonly seen scratching through organic matter on the moist forest floor in search of invertebrates. Unlike the other species, it is a cold-hardy generalist feeder, often seen eating berries during the southbound October migration. Small numbers of Hermit Thrushes spend the winter in the lower Susquehanna valley, particularly in habitats with a mix of wild foods.

Due to their feeding behavior, Cedar Waxwings can easily be mistaken for flycatchers during the nesting season, but by October they’ve transitioned to voracious consumers of small wild fruits. During the remainder of the year, flocks of waxwings wander widely in search of foods like this Fox Grape (Vitis labrusca). An abundance of cedar, holly, Poison Ivy, hackberry, bittersweet , hawthorn, wild grape, and other berries is essential to their survival during the colder months.

Red-breasted Nuthatches have moved south in large numbers during the fall of 2020. They were particularly common in the lower Susquehanna region during mid-October. Red-breasted Nuthatches can feed on invertebrates during warm weather, but get forced south from Canada in droves when the cone crops on coniferous trees fail to provide an adequate supply of seeds for the colder fall and winter seasons. In the absence of wild foods, these generalists will visit feeding stations stocked with suet and other provisions.

Purple Finches (Haemorhous purpureus) were unusually common as October migrants in 2020. They are often considered seed eaters during cold weather, but will readily consume small fruits like these berries on an invasive Mile-a-minute Weed (Persicaria perfoliata) vine. Purple Finches are quite fond of sunflower seeds at feeding stations, but often shy away if aggressive House Sparrows or House Finches are present.

The need for food and cover is critical for the survival of wildlife during the colder months. If you are a property steward, think about providing places for wildlife in the landscape. Mow less. Plant trees, particularly evergreens. Thickets are good—plant or protect fruit-bearing vines and shrubs, and allow herbaceous native plants to flower and produce seed. And if you’re putting out provisions for songbirds, keep the feeders clean. Remember, even small yards and gardens can provide a life-saving oasis for migrating and wintering birds. With a larger parcel of land, you can do even more.

**GOT BERRIES?** Common Winterbery (Ilex verticillata) is a native deciduous holly that looks its best in the winter, especially with snow on the ground. It’s slow-growing, and never needs pruning. Birds including bluebirds love the berries and you can plant it in wet ground, even along a stream, in a stormwater basin, or in a rain garden where your downspouts discharge. Because it’s a holly, you’ll need to plant a male and a female to get the berries. Full sun produces the best crop. Fall is a great time to plant, and many garden centers that sell holiday greenery still have winterberry shrubs for sale in November and December. Put a clump of these beauties in your landscape. Gorgeous!

August 25, 2020August 21, 2023

Stray Butterflies

A special message from your local Chinese Mantis (Tenodera sinensis).

Hey you! Yes, you. I pray you’re paying attention to what’s flying around out there, otherwise it’ll all pass you by.

This summer’s hot humid breezes from the south have not only carried swarms of dragonflies into the lower Susquehanna valley, but butterflies too.

So check out these extravagant visitors from south of the Mason-Dixon Line—before my appetite gets the better of me.

In some years, the Sachem, a vagrant from the south, can become the most frequently observed orange skipper in the Susquehanna valley, far outnumbering faltering populations of resident species around lawns, gardens, meadows, and roadsides. 2020 appears to be one of those years.

The Fiery Skipper (Hylephila phyleus) sometimes strays north along the lower Susquehanna River in late summer. This one was photographed recently at Conewago Falls.

The Cloudless Sulphur is a large fast-flying brilliant yellow butterfly. Here in the Susquehanna valley, it is usually seen singly, though colonizers will breed in patches of Partridge Pea, Wild Senna (Senna hebecarpa), and Maryland Senna (Senna marilandica). Cloudless Sulphurs are really widespread this year. In areas where intensive farming practices are in use, your chances of seeing one of these wandering around right now might be just as good as your chances of seeing one of the diminished flights of the resident Clouded Sulphurs (Colias philodice) and Orange Sulphurs (Colias eurytheme).

The Red-banded Hairstreak (Calycopis cecrops) is the least conspicuous of the stray butterflies shown here. This beauty was photographed several days ago along the edge of an oak forest in northern Lancaster County, PA.

There you have it. Get out there and have a look around. These species won’t be active much longer. In just a matter of weeks, our migratory butterflies, including Monarchs, will be heading south and our visiting strays will either follow their lead or risk succumbing to frosty weather.

For more photographs of butterflies, be sure to click the “Butterflies” tab at the top of the page. We’re adding more as we get them.

January 1, 2020August 15, 2022

Clean Slate for 2020

Inside the doorway that leads to your editor’s 3,500 square foot garden hangs a small chalkboard upon which he records the common names of the species of birds that are seen there—or from there—during the year. If he remembers to, he records the date when the species was first seen during that particular year. On New Year’s Day, the results from the freshly ended year are transcribed onto a sheet of notebook paper. On the reverse, the names of butterflies, mammals, and other animals that visited the garden are copied from a second chalkboard that hangs nearby. The piece of paper is then inserted into a folder to join those from previous New Year’s Days. The folder then gets placed back into the editor’s desk drawer beneath a circular saw blade and an old scratched up set of sunglasses—so that he knows exactly where to find it if he wishes to.

A quick glance at this year’s list calls to mind a few recollections.

The 2019 bird list included 48 species, the 47 on the board plus Ruby-throated Hummingbird, which was logged on a slip of paper found tucked into the edge of the frame.

This Green Frog, photographed on New Year’s Day 2019, was “out and about” along the edge of the editor’s garden pond. Due to the recent mild weather, Green Frogs were active during the current New Year’s holiday as well.

On a day with strong south winds in late February or during the first two weeks of March, there is often a conspicuous northbound spring flight of migrating waterfowl, gulls, and songbirds that crosses the lower Susquehanna valley as it departs Chesapeake Bay. These Tundra Swans were among the three thousand seen from the garden patio on March 13, 2019. A thousand migrating Canada Geese, 500 Red-winged Blackbirds, numerous Ring-billed Gulls, and some Herring Gulls were seen during the same afternoon.

This juvenile Cooper’s Hawk was photographed through the editor’s kitchen window. From its favorite perch on this arbor it would occasionally find success snagging a House Sparrow from the large local flock. It first visited the garden in November, the species being absent there since early spring. Unlike previous years, there was no evidence of a breeding pair in the vicinity during 2019.

Plantings that provide food and cover for wildlife are essential to their survival. Native flowers including Trumpet Vine (Campsis radicans) and Partridge Pea provide nourishment for the Ruby-throated Hummingbirds that visit the editor’s garden, but they really love a basket or pot filled with Mexican Cigar (Cuphea ignea) too. The latter (seen here) can be grown as a houseplant and moved outdoors to a semi-shaded location in summer and early fall. But remember, it’s tropical, so you’ll need to bring it back inside when frost threatens.

A Swamp Sparrow is an unusual visitor to a small property surrounded by paved parking lots and treeless lawns. Nevertheless, aquatic gardens and native plants helped to attract this nocturnal migrant, seen here eating seeds from Indiangrass. It arrived on September 30 and was gone on October 2.

Before putting the folder back into the drawer for another year, the editor decided to count up the species totals on each of the sheets and load them into the chart maker in the computer.

Despite the habitat improvements in the garden, the trend is apparent. Bird diversity has not cracked the 50 species mark in 6 years. Despite native host plants and nectar species in abundance, butterfly diversity has not exceeded 10 species in 6 years.

It appears that, at the very least, the garden habitat has been disconnected from the home ranges of many species by fragmentation. His little oasis is now isolated in a landscape that becomes increasingly hostile to native wildlife with each passing year. The paving of more parking areas, the elimination of trees, shrubs, and herbaceous growth from the large number of rental properties in the area, the alteration of the biology of the nearby stream by hand-fed domestic ducks, light pollution, and the outdoor use of pesticides have all contributed to the separation of the editor’s tiny sanctuary from the travel lanes and core habitats of many of the species that formerly visited, fed, or bred there. In 2019, migrants, particularly “fly-overs”, were nearly the only sightings aside from several woodpeckers, invasive House Sparrows (Passer domesticus), and hardy Mourning Doves. Even rascally European Starlings became sporadic in occurrence—imagine that! It was the most lackluster year in memory.

The Tufted Titmouse was a daily visitor to the garden through 2018. This one was photographed investigating holes in an old magnolia there during the spring of that year. There were no Tufted Titmouse sightings in the garden in 2019. This and other resident species, especially cavity-nesters, appear to be experiencing at least a temporary decline.

Breeding birds including Northern Cardinals may have had a difficult year. In the editor’s garden, a pair were still feeding and escorting one of their young in early October. The infestation of the editor’s town by domestic house and feral cats may have contributed to the failure of earlier broods, but a lack of food is also a likely factor.

If habitat fragmentation were the sole cause for the downward trend in numbers and species, it would be disappointing, but comprehendible. There would be no cause for greater alarm. It would be a matter of cause and effect. But the problem is more widespread.

Although the editor spent a great deal of time in the garden this year, he was also out and about, traveling hundreds of miles per week through lands on both the east and the west shores of the lower Susquehanna. And on each journey, the number of birds seen could be counted on fingers and toes. A decade earlier, there were thousands of birds in these same locations, particularly during the late summer.

At about the time of summer solstice in June each year, Common Grackles begin congregating into roving summer flocks that will grow in size to assure their survival during the autumn migration, winter season, and return north in the spring. From his garden, the editor saw just one flock of less than a dozen birds during the summer of 2019. He saw none during his journeys through other areas of the Susquehanna valley. Flocks of one hundred birds or more did not materialize until the southbound movements of grackles passed through the region in October and November.

In the lower Susquehanna valley, something has drastically reduced the population of birds during breeding season, post-breeding dispersal, and the staging period preceding autumn migration. In much of the region, their late-spring through summer absence was, in 2019, conspicuous. What happened to the tens of thousands of swallows that used to gather on wires along rural roads in August and September before moving south? The groups of dozens of Eastern Kingbirds (Tyrannus tyrannus) that did their fly-catching from perches in willows alongside meadows and shorelines—where are they?

Several studies published during the autumn of 2019 have documented and/or predicted losses in bird populations in the eastern half of the United States and elsewhere. These studies looked at data samples collected during recent decades to either arrive at conclusions or project future trends. They cite climate change, the feline infestation, and habitat loss/degradation among the factors contributing to alterations in range, migration, and overall numbers.

There’s not much need for analysis to determine if bird numbers have plummeted in certain Lower Susquehanna Watershed habitats during the aforementioned seasons—the birds are gone. None of these studies documented or forecast such an abrupt decline. Is there a mysterious cause for the loss of the valley’s birds? Did they die off? Is there a disease or chemical killing them or inhibiting their reproduction? Is it global warming? Is it Three Mile Island? Is it plastic straws, wind turbines, or vehicle traffic?

The answer might not be so cryptic. It might be right before our eyes. And we’ll explore it during 2020.

In the meantime, Uncle Ty and I going to the Pennsylvania Farm Show in Harrisburg. You should go too. They have lots of food there.

December 21, 2019October 4, 2023

Some Autumn Insects

With autumn coming to a close, let’s have a look at some of the fascinating insects (and a spider) that put on a show during some mild afternoons in the late months of 2019.

Bush Katydids (Scudderia species) are found in brushy habitats and along rural roadsides. Their green summer color fades to brown, maroon, and gold to match the autumn foliage where they hide. Bush katydids often remain active until a hard freeze finally does them in.

The Eastern Buck Moth (Hemileuca maia) is fuzzy, appearing to wear a warm coat for its autumn expeditions. Adults emerge in October and may fly as late as December. Females deposit their eggs on the twigs of Bear Oak (Quercus ilicifolia), Blackjack Oak (Q. marilandica), or Chestnut Oak (Q. montana), trees that, in our region, seem most favorable for the moth’s use when growing on burned barrens and mountain slopes. The spiny caterpillars are known to feed only on the foliage of these few trees. In the lower Susquehanna valley, the Eastern Buck Moth is rare because its specialized habitat is in short supply, and it’s all Smokey The Bear’s fault.

The Sachem (Atalopedes campestris) wanders north from the Atlantic Coastal Plain into the Susquehanna valley each summer. In some years they become the most numerous small orange butterfly of all, particularly around home gardens. The larvae will feed on Crabgrass (Digitaria species), but have not found success overwintering this far north. By November, adults begin to look pretty drab.

From 1978 through 1982, the Asian Multicolored Lady Beetle (Harmonia axyridis) was introduced into the eastern states by the United States Department of Agriculture. It has become a nuisance in many areas where it swarms, sometimes bites, and often overwinters in large smelly masses within homes and other warm buildings. As you may have guessed, it’s possibly displacing some of the less aggressive native lady beetle species.

On a chilly afternoon, a sun-warmed Bold Jumping Spider (Phidippus audax) pounced and dispatched this sluggish worker Honey Bee (Apis mellifera) that was trying to gather pollen from a late-season Purple Coneflower bloom. This spider is bold indeed.

Under bridges, inside bird nest boxes, and sometimes beneath porches, the female Pipe Organ Mud Dauber (Trypoxylon politum), a predatory wasp, builds these elaborate nests composed of long rows (pipes) of nursery cells. Into each cell one or more paralyzed spiders is deposited along with one of the female’s eggs. When hatched, each larva will feed upon the paralyzed spider(s) inside its cell, then pupate. The pupae overwinter, then emerge from their cells as adults during the following spring. In the autumn, males often stand guard at an entrance to the nest to prevent parasitic species, including some flies (look at the fifth pipe from the right), from laying eggs on the pupae. These wasps are not aggressive toward humans.

A Black-and-yellow Mud Dauber (Sceliphron caementarium) observes a neighboring nest of Common Paper Wasps (Polistes exclamans). The Common Paper Wasp, a species also known as the Guinea Paper Wasp, is a native of the southern United States. It is currently expanding its range into the lower Susquehanna valley from the Atlantic Coastal Plain. These two wasp species and the Pipe Organ Mud Dauber are known to regularly coexist. All three will take advantage of man-made structures for their nest sites. People using the picnic tables beneath this pavilion roof never noticed the hundreds of docile wasps above.

Those moody Eastern Yellowjackets (Vespula maculifrons) can get very temperamental during warm autumn days. These wasps may appear to have no enemies, but away from areas impacted by man’s everyday activities, they do. The Robber Fly (Promachus species) hunts like a flycatcher or other woodland bird, waiting on a perch along the forest’s edge for prey to pass by, then ambushing it, yellowjackets included.

The invasive Spotted Lanternfly, a native of eastern Asia, continues to spread destruction. It established itself throughout much of the east side of the lower Susquehanna River during the summer and fall of 2019. Their route of travel across the farmlands of the region intersects with plenty of vineyards to obliterate and few, if any, natural enemies. Expect them to begin colonizing the west shore en masse during 2020.

In 2020, plan to roll a few Spotted Lanternflies over, enjoy the view, and wait for the crimson tide to pass. With any luck, they’ll peak in a year or two.

SOURCES

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

August 31, 2018March 30, 2024

Noxious Benefactor

It’s sprayed with herbicides. It’s mowed and mangled. It’s ground to shreds with noisy weed-trimmers. It’s scorned and maligned. It’s been targeted for elimination by some governments because it’s undesirable and “noxious”. And it has that four letter word in its name which dooms the fate of any plant that possesses it. It’s the Common Milkweed, and it’s the center of activity in our garden at this time of year. Yep, we said milk-WEED.

Now, you need to understand that our garden is small—less than 2,500 square feet. There is no lawn, and there will be no lawn. We’ll have nothing to do with the lawn nonsense. Those of you who know us, know that the lawn, or anything that looks like lawn, are through.

Anyway, most of the plants in the garden are native species. There are trees, numerous shrubs, some water features with aquatic plants, and filling the sunny margins is a mix of native grassland plants including Common Milkweed. The unusually wet growing season in 2018 has been very kind to these plants. They are still very green and lush. And the animals that rely on them are having a banner year. Have a look…

The flowers of the Common Milkweed were exceptionally fragrant this year. At their peak in early June, their hyacinth-or lilac-like aroma was so prevalent, it drifted into our building and overwhelmed the stink of the neighbor’s filthy dumpster that he had placed 12 feet away from our walls (100 feet from his).

Common Milkweed attracts a pollinating Greenbottle Fly (Lucilia species). The dumpster attracts the invasive House Fly (Musca domestica), carrier of dysentery, typhoid, and other wonderful diseases. Are you following this? Remember as we proceed, milkweed is “noxious”.

Busy Eastern Carpenter Bees (Xylocopa virginica) load up with pollen from the flowers of the Common Milkweed.

A Red Milkweed Beetle (Tetraopes tetrophthalmus) munches on a tender fresh Common Milkweed leaf in mid-June.

Following the pollination of the flowers, seed pods will begin to grow. We trim these off the plants. The removal of the extra weight allows most of the stems to remain erect through stormy weather. You’ll still get new plants from underground runners. As you may have guessed, we’re trying to keep these plants upright and strong to host Monarch butterfly larvae.

We’ve planted a variety of native grassland species to help support the milkweed structurally and to provide a more complete habitat for Monarch butterflies and other native insects. This year, these plants are exceptionally colorful for late-August due to the abundance of rain. The warm season grasses shown below are the four primary species found in the American tall-grass prairies and elsewhere.

Big Bluestem, a native warm-season grass in flower.

Little Bluestem (Schizachyrium scoparium “Fort Indiantown Gap”) in flower. This variety grows on the tank range at the military base where the armored vehicles and prescribed burns substitute for the herd animals and fires of the prairie to prevent succession and allow it to thrive.

Partridge Pea can tolerate sandy soil and is a host plant for vagrant Cloudless Sulphur butterflies.

Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta) is a popular native grassland wildflower.

Indiangrass (Sorghastrum nutans) in flower. This and the other native plants shown here are available as seed from Ernst Seed Company in Meadville (PA). They have an unbelievably large selection of indigenous species. You can plant a small plot or acres and acres using really good mixes blended for purposes ranging from reclaiming pipeline right-of-ways and strip mines to naturalizing backyard gardens.

A Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta) butterfly, a migratory species like the Monarch, on Purple Coneflower (Echinacea purpurea). Yes, it is that Echinacea, the same one used as a supplement and home remedy.

There was Monarch activity in the garden today like we’ve never seen before—and it revolved around milkweed and the companion plants.

A female Monarch laying eggs on a Common Milkweed leaf.

A third instar Monarch caterpillar with Oleander Aphids (Aphis nerii) on a Common Milkweed leaf. Both of these insect species absorb toxins from the milkweed which makes them distasteful to predators.

Fifth instar (left and center) and fourth instar (right) monarch caterpillars devour a Common Milkweed leaf. There were over thirty of these caterpillars in just a ten by ten feet area this morning. We hope that if you’re keeping a habitat for Monarchs, you’re enjoying the same fortune right now!

A slow-moving Monarch stopped for a break after making the circuit to deposit eggs on milkweed throughout the garden.

Third instar (top), fourth instar (right), and fifth instar (left) Monarch caterpillars quickly consume the leaf of a Common Milkweed plant. Caterpillars emerging from eggs deposited today may not have sufficient late-season food to complete the larval segment of their life cycle. Need more milkweed!

After benefiting from the nourishment of the Common Milkweed plant, a fifth instar Monarch caterpillar begins pupation on Big Bluestem grass.

Two hours later, the chrysalis is complete.

Another chrysalis, this one on flowering Switchgrass just two feet away from the previous one. An adult Monarch will emerge from this pupa to become part of what we hope will be the most populated southbound exodus for the species in over five years.

There it is, soon ready to fly away. And all courtesy of the noxious milkweed.

A chrysalis can often be found on man-made objects too. This one is on the rim of a flower pot.

Ornamental flowers can attract adult Monarch butterflies seeking nectar. We’re now more careful to select seeds and plants that have not been treated with neonicotinoid insecticides. There’s growing concern over the impact these compounds may be having on pollinating species of animals. Oh…and we don’t mow, whack, cut, mutilate, or spray herbicides on our milkweed, but you probably figured that out already.

SOURCES

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

September 13, 2017September 4, 2019

Living in the Shadows

They get a touch of it here, and a sparkle or two there. Maybe, for a couple of hours each day, the glorious life-giving glow of the sun finds an opening in the canopy to warm and nourish their leaves, then the rays of light creep away across the forest floor, and it’s shade for the remainder of the day.

The flowering plants which thrive in the understory of the Riparian Woodlands often escape much notice. They gather only a fraction of the daylight collected by species growing in full exposure to the sun. Yet, by season’s end, many produce showy flowers or nourishing fruits of great import to wildlife. While light may be sparingly rationed through the leaves of the tall trees overhead, moisture is nearly always assured in the damp soils of the riverside forest. For these plants, growth is slow, but continuous. And now, it’s show time.

So let’s take a late-summer stroll through the Riparian Woodlands of Conewago Falls, minus the face full of cobwebs, and have a look at some of the strikingly beautiful plants found living in the shadows.

Oxeye *(Heliopsis helianthoides)* is common on the interior and along the edges of Riparian Woodland. Specimens in deep shade flower less profusely and average less than half the height of the five feet tall inhabitants of edge environs.

Pale Touch-Me-Not *(Impatiens pallida)* is one of two species of native *Impatiens* found in the river floodplain. Both are known as Jewelweed. The stems and leaves of the indigenous Impatiens retain a great quantity of water, so life in filtered sunlight is essential to prevent desiccation. Contrary to popular folklore, extracts of Jewelweed plants are not effective treatments of Poison Ivy *(Toxicodendron radicans)* contact dermatitis.

Spotted Touch-Me-Not *(Impatiens capensis)* is typically found in wetter soil than *I. pallida*. Both Jewelweeds develop popping capsules which help to distribute the seeds of these annual wildflowers. “Touch Me Not”, or you’ll be wearing tiny seeds.

Green-headed Coneflower *(Rudbeckia laciniata)* grows to heights of eight feet in full sun, hence its alternate common name, Tall Coneflower. In deep shade, it may not exceed two feet in height. Floodplains are the prime domain of this perennial.

Wingstem *(Verbesina alternifolia)* normally flowers no earlier than late August. The bases of the leaves are continued onto the stem of the plant to form wings which extend downward along its length. This wildflower tolerates shade, but flowers more profusely along the woodland edge.

Great Lobelia *(Lobelia siphilitica),* or Great Blue Lobelia, is a magnificent wetland and moist woodland wildflower, usually attaining three feet in height and adorned with a plant-topping spike of blossoms. Invasive Japanese Stiltgrass *(Microstegium vimineum)* can be seen here competing with this plant, resulting in a shorter, less productive Lobelia. Stiltgrass was not found in the Susquehanna River floodplain at Conewago Falls until sometime after 1997. It has spread to all areas of woodland shade, its tiny seeds being blown and translocated along roads, mowed lots, trails, and streams to quickly colonize and overtake new ground.

American Bladdernut *(Staphylea trifolia),* a shrub of shaded woods, develops inflated capsules which easily float away during high water to distribute the seeds contained inside.

Buttonbush *(Cephalanthus occidentalis)* is a shrub of wet soils which produces a strange spherical flower, followed by this globular seed cluster.

Common Pawpaw (Asimina triloba) is a colony-forming small tree which produces a fleshy fruit. It is the host plant for the caterpillars of the Zebra Swallowtail. The plant and the butterfly approach the northern limit of their geographic range at Conewago Falls.

Common Spicebush *(Lindera benzoin)* is a widespread understory shrub in wet floodplain soils. It is the host plant for the caterpillars of the Spicebush Swallowtail *(Papilio troilus)*.

Sweet Autumn Virgin’s Bower *(Clematis terniflora)* is an escape from cultivation which has recently naturalized in the edge areas of the Conewago Falls Riparian Woodlands. This vine is very showy when flowering and producing seed, but can be detrimental to some of the understory shrubs upon which it tends to climb.

SOURCES

Long, David; Ballentine, Noel H.; and Marks, James G., Jr. 1997. Treatment of Poison Ivy/Oak Allergic Contact Dermatitis With an Extract of Jewelweed. American Journal of Contact Dermatitis. 8(3): pp. 150-153.

Newcomb, Lawrence. 1977. Newcomb’s Wildflower Guide. Little, Brown and Company. Boston, Massachusetts.

August 21, 2017September 4, 2019

Beauties

It’s tough being good-looking and liked by so many. You’ve got to watch out, because popularity makes you a target. Others get jealous and begin a crusade to have you neutralized and removed from the spotlight. They’ll start digging to find your little weaknesses and flaws, then they’ll exploit them to destroy your reputation. Next thing you know, people look at you as some kind of hideous scoundrel.

Today, bright afternoon sunshine and a profusion of blooming wildflowers coaxed butterflies into action. It was one of those days when you don’t know where to look first.

A Pearl Crescent *(Phyciodes tharos)* sipping nectar from Rough Boneset *(Eupatorium pilosum)* flowers. Asters *(Aster)* are the host plants for the larvae of this butterfly.

A Buckeye *(Junonia coenia)* on Rough Boneset. Its caterpillars are known to feed on members of the Acanthus family, possibly including the Water Willow (Justicia americana) which is so abundant in Conewago Falls.

Visitors from south of the Mason-Dixon Line arrived on the recent warm winds. Two Cloudless Sulphurs *(Phoebis sennae)* patrolled the Riverine Grasslands, especially near the stands of Partridge Pea, a possible host plant. One is seen here visiting a Halbred-leaved Rose Mallow blossom. These large yellow butterflies are always a standout.

Purple Loosestrife (Lythrum salicaria) has a bad reputation. Not native to the Americas, this prolific seed producer began spreading aggressively into many wetlands following its introduction. It crowds out native plant species and can have a detrimental impact on other aquatic life. Stands of loosestrife in slow-moving waters can alter flows, trap sediment, and adversely modify the morphology of waterways. Expensive removal and biological control are often needed to protect critical habitat.

The dastardly Purple Loosestrife may have only two positive attributes. First, it’s a beautiful plant. And second, it’s popular; butterflies and other pollinators find it to be irresistible and go wild over the nectar.

A Silver-spotted Skipper *(Epargyreus clarus)* feeding on Purple Loosestrife nectar. The host plants for this common butterfly’s caterpillars are a wide variety of Legumes.

A Cabbage White *(Pieris rapae)*, a butterfly introduced from Europe in the 1800s, feeds on introduced Purple Loosestrife.

A Wild Indigo Duskywing (Erynnis baptisiae) feeding on Purple Loosestrife. This butterfly has expanded its population and range by using the introduced Crown Vetch as a host plant.

Don’t you just adore the wonderful butterflies. Everybody does. Just don’t tell anyone that they’re pollinating those dirty filthy no-good Purple Loosestrife plants.

SOURCES

Brock, Jim P., and Kenn Kaufman. 2003. Butterflies of North America. Houghton Mifflin Company. New York.

Newcomb, Lawrence. 1977. Newcomb’s Wildflower Guide. Little, Brown and Company. Boston, Massachusetts.

August 20, 2017October 5, 2023

The Dungeon

There’s something frightening going on down there. In the sand, beneath the plants on the shoreline, there’s a pile of soil next to a hole it’s been digging. Now, it’s dragging something toward the tunnel it made. What does it have? Is that alive?

We know how the system works, the food chain that is. The small stuff is eaten by the progressively bigger things, and there are fewer of the latter than there are of the former, thus the whole network keeps operating long-term. Some things chew plants, others devour animals whole or in part, and then there are those, like us, that do both. In the natural ecosystem, predators keep the numerous little critters from getting out of control and decimating certain other plant or animal populations and wrecking the whole business. When man brings an invasive and potentially destructive species to a new area, occasionally we’re fortunate enough to have a native species adapt and begin to keep the invader under control by eating it. It maintains the balance. It’s easy enough to understand.

Japanese Beetles (Popillia japonica) seen here on Halberd-leaved Rose Mallow. Without predation, exploding numbers of this invasive non-indigenous insect can defoliate and kill numerous species of plants in a given area.

The Song Sparrow (Melospiza melodia) is a generalist feeder, eating seeds and invertebrates including Japanese Beetles. This species is the omnipresent year-round occupant of shoreline vegetation along the lower Susquehanna River.

Late summer days are marked by a change in the sounds coming from the forests surrounding the falls. For birds, breeding season is ending, so the males cease their chorus of songs and insects take over the musical duties. The buzzing calls of male “Annual Cicadas” (Neotibicen species) are the most familiar. The female “Annual Cicada” lays her eggs in the twigs of trees. After hatching, the nymphs drop to the ground and burrow into the soil to live and feed along tree roots for the next two to five years. A dry exoskeleton clinging to a tree trunk is evidence that a nymph has emerged from its subterranean haunts and flown away as an adult to breed and soon thereafter die. Flights of adult “Annual Cicadas” occur every year, but never come anywhere close to reaching the enormous numbers of “Periodical Cicadas” (Magicicada species). The three species of “Periodical Cicadas” synchronize their life cycles throughout their combined regional populations to create broods that emerge as spectacular flights once every 13 or 17 years.

An “Annual Cicada” also known as a “Dog-day Cicada”, clings to the stem of a Halberd-leaved Rose Mallow at Conewago Falls.

For the adult cicada, there is danger, and that danger resembles an enormous bee. It’s an Eastern Cicada Killer (Specius speciosus) wasp, and it will latch onto a cicada and begin stinging while both are in flight. The stings soon paralyze the screeching, panicked cicada. The Cicada Killer then begins the task of airlifting and/or dragging its victim to the lair it has prepared. The cicada is placed in one of more than a dozen cells in the tunnel complex where it will serve as food for the wasp’s larvae. The wasp lays an egg on the cicada, then leaves and pushes the hole closed. The egg hatches in a several days and the larval grub is on its own to feast upon the hapless cicada.

An Eastern Cicada Killer *(Sphecius speciosus)* along the river shoreline. Despite their intimidating appearance, they do not sting humans and can be quite docile when approached.

Other species in the Solitary Wasp family (Sphecidae) have similar life cycles using specific prey which they incapacitate to serve as sustenance for their larvae.

A Solitary Wasp, *one of the Thread-waisted Wasps (Ammophila species)*, drags a paralyzed moth caterpillar to its breeding dungeon in the sandy soil at Conewago Falls. For the victim, there is no escape from the crypt.

The Solitary Wasps are an important control on the populations of their respective prey. Additionally, the wasp’s bizarre life cycle ensures a greater survival rate for its own offspring by providing sufficient food for each of its progeny before the egg beginning its life is ever put in place. It’s complete family planning.

The cicadas reproduce quickly and, as a species, seem to endure the assault by Cicada Killers, birds, and other predators. The Periodical Cicadas (Magicicada), with adult flights occurring as a massive swarm of an entire population every thirteen or seventeen years, survive as species by providing predators with so ample a supply of food that most of the adults go unmolested to complete reproduction. Stay tuned, 2021 is due to be the next Periodical Cicada year in the vicinity of Conewago Falls.

SOURCES

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

August 16, 2017September 4, 2019

S’more

The tall seed-topped stems swaying in a summer breeze are a pleasant scene. And the colorful autumn shades of blue, orange, purple, red, and, of course, green leaves on these clumping plants are nice. But of the multitude of flowering plants, Big Bluestem, Freshwater Cordgrass, and Switchgrass aren’t much of a draw. No self-respecting bloom addict is going out of their way to have a gander at any grass that hasn’t been subjugated and tamed by a hideous set of spinning steel blades. Grass flowers…are you kidding?

Big Bluestem in flower in the Riverine Grasslands at Conewago Falls.

O.K., so you need something more. Here’s more.

Meet the Partridge Pea (Chamaecrista fasciculata). It’s an annual plant growing in the Riverine Grasslands at Conewago Falls as a companion to Big Bluestem. It has a special niche growing in the sandy and, in summertime, dry soils left behind by earlier flooding and ice scour. The divided leaves close upon contact and also at nightfall. Bees and other pollinators are drawn to the abundance of butter-yellow blossoms. Like the familiar pea of the vegetable garden, the flowers are followed by flat seed pods.

The Partridge Pea can tolerate dry sandy soils.

But wait, here’s more.

In addition to its abundance in Conewago Falls, the Halberd-leaved Rose Mallow (Hibiscus laevis) is the ubiquitous water’s edge plant along the free-flowing Susquehanna River for miles downstream. It grows in large clumps, often defining the border between the emergent zone and shore-rooted plants. It is particularly successful in accumulations of alluvium interspersed with heavier pebbles and stone into which the roots will anchor to endure flooding and scour. Such substrate buildup around the falls, along mid-river islands, and along the shores of the low-lying Riparian Woodlands immediately below the falls are often quite hospitable to the species.

Halberd-leaved Rose Mallow is a durable inhabitant of the falls. Regular flooding keeps competing species at bay. A taproot helps to safeguard against dislocation, allowing plants to grow in places subjected to turbulent currents.

Halberd-leaved Rose Mallow in bloom. The similarity to cultivated members of the *Hibiscus* genus can readily be seen. It is one of the showiest of perennial wildflowers in the floodplain. Note the lobed, halberd-shaped leaves, source of its former species name *militaris*.

The seeds of Halberd-leaved Rose Mallow are contained in bladders which can float to assist in their distribution. Some of these bladders cling to the dead leafless stems in winter, making it an easy plant to identify in nearly any season.

A second native wildflower species in the genus Hibiscus is found in the Conewago Falls floodplain, this one in wetlands. The Swamp Rose Mallow (H. moscheutos) is similar to Halberd-leaved Rose Mallow, but sports more variable and colorful blooms. The leaves are toothed without the deep halberd-style lobes and, like the stems, are downy. As the common name implies, it requires swampy habitat with ample water and sunlight.

Swamp Rose Mallow in a sunny wetland. This variety with solid-colored flowers (without dark centers) and pale green leaves and stems was formerly known as a separate species of Swamp Rose Mallow, *H. palustris*. Note that the flowers are terminal on the stems.

A few scattered specimens of a more typical variety of Swamp Rose Mallow are found on the shoreline and in the Riverine Grasslands of Conewago Falls. The blooms are bright pink with darker centers and the leaf stems are robust and reddish. This one is seen growing among Halberd-leaved Rose Mallow, with which it shares the characteristic of having flower stems growing from some of the upper leaf axils. A variety with red-centered white flowers is often found throughout the plant’s range.

In summary, we find Partridge Pea in the Riverine Grasslands growing in sandy deposits left by flood and ice scour. We find Halberd-leaved Rose Mallow rooted at the border between shore and the emergent zone. We find Swamp Rose Mallow as an emergent in the wetlands of the floodplain. And finally, we find marshmallows in only one location in the area of Conewago Falls. Bon ap’.

SOURCES

Newcomb, Lawrence. 1977. Newcomb’s Wildflower Guide. Little, Brown and Company. Boston, Massachusetts.

August 7, 2017August 27, 2023

Fussy Eaters

She ate only toaster pastries…that’s it…nothing else. Every now and then, on special occasions, when a big dinner was served, she’d have a small helping of mashed potatoes, no gravy, just plain, thank you. She received all her nutrition from several meals a week of macaroni and cheese assembled from processed ingredients found in a cardboard box. It contains eight essential vitamins and minerals, don’t you know? You remember her, don’t you?

Adult female butterflies must lay their eggs where the hatched larvae will promptly find the precise food needed to fuel their growth. These caterpillars are fussy eaters, with some able to feed upon only one particular species or genus of plant to grow through the five stages, the instars, of larval life. The energy for their fifth molt into a pupa, known as a chrysalis, and metamorphosis into an adult butterfly requires mass consumption of the required plant matter. Their life cycle causes most butterflies to be very habitat specific. These splendid insects may visit the urban or suburban garden as adults to feed on nectar plants, however, successful reproduction relies upon environs which include suitable, thriving, pesticide-free host plants for the caterpillars. Their survival depends upon more than the vegetation surrounding the typical lawn will provide.

The Monarch (Danaus plexippus), a butterfly familiar in North America for its conspicuous autumn migrations to forests in Mexico, uses the milkweeds (Asclepias) almost exclusively as a host plant. Here at Conewago Falls, wetlands with Swamp Milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) and unsprayed clearings with Common Milkweed (A. syriaca) are essential to the successful reproduction of the species. Human disturbance, including liberal use of herbicides, and invasive plant species can diminish the biomass of the Monarch’s favored nourishment, thus reducing significantly the abundance of the migratory late-season generation.

Monarch caterpillar after a fourth molt. The fifth instar feeding on Swamp Milkweed.

A fifth molt begets the Monarch pupa, the chrysalis, from which the showy adult butterfly will emerge.

Adult Monarch feeding on Goldenrod *(Solidago)* nectar.

Butterflies are good indicators of the ecological health of a given environment. A diversity of butterfly species in a given area requires a wide array of mostly indigenous plants to provide food for reproduction. Let’s have a look at some of the species seen around Conewago Falls this week…