Hooked on Orthoptera

Well, it sure didn't take long for me to become hooked on Orthoptera! For those of you who know me, I'm sure that this comes as no surprise. These insects are so darn cool. I challenge any aspiring naturalist to spend just 30 minutes looking at photos of singing insects or just listening to their calls, as I am sure that you, too, will become fascinated by them. I said it before, but I can't believe I haven't noticed them prior to this fall. Now, I can't get enough. I'm sure that I will make plenty of rookie mistakes while becoming acquainted with these insects, so if you notice one, please let me know.

I started this post last night, and tonight, while checking other blogs that I routinely visit, I saw that Jim McCormac of Ohio Birds and Biodiversity posted about singing insects today as well. It must be that time of the year. Be sure to check out his post by clicking here.

I've noticed that my photos don't look so great until they are enlarged, so please be sure to click on them to expand them and see these amazing creatures up close.

First, here is another photo of the tree cricket (Oecanthus sp.) that I posted a few days ago. In this photo, you can see the reddish cap that seems to be characteristic of the Narrow-winged Tree Cricket (Oecanthus niveus).

Below is one of the craziest-looking creatures I've ever seen. This is a conehead katydid(Neoconocephalus sp.), but I'm not yet sure which species. Don't you love it when a genus or species has such a nice, descriptive common name? Coneheads usually have wings that are as long as or longer than the body, but according to entomologist/naturalist Jim Bess, this is an immature female, as you can see that the wings are much shorter than the body. You can tell that this is a female by the long ovipositor (the organ used to lay eggs) protruding from the posterior end of the abdomen.

Here is another view, showing the underside of the cone. Many of the species in the genus Neoconocephalus have black coloring on the underside of the cone. This individual does not have this coloring, indicating that it may be a Robust Conehead (Neoconocephalus robustus), though I haven't ruled out Round-tipped Conehead (Neoconocephalus retusus), which should have a thin black line across the front of the cone. I observed this individual in Porter County, Indiana, near shrubby vegetation along Salt Creek. This area was surrounded by degraded sedge meadow.

As I was walking our trails yesterday in North Liberty, Indiana, I noticed a dark spot on a leaf of Common Milkweed (Asclepias syriaca). I stopped to look closer and saw that the spot was actually a Black-horned Tree Cricket (Oecanthus nigricornis). This species can have varying amounts of black coloring on the body and legs, but should always have black antennae (that can vary to pale black).

Also while walking our trails, I heard the tick-buzz call combination characteristic of several meadow katydids (Orchelimum spp.). I left the trail and was able to track down the source of the call, a Black-legged Meadow Katydid (Orchelimum nigripes), pictured below. You will notice that the pale face and reddish eye contrast sharply with the green body, and that portions of the legs are black.

A bit later, I heard the call of another meadow katydid (Orchelimum sp.) coming from a colony of Sandbar Willow (Salix interior). It blended in with its surroundings so well that I had my ear within a few inches of it trying to tell where the call was coming from, before I turned my head and saw an antenna. A moment later, I spotted the second antenna. I was able to follow both of these back to their origin, where I finally noticed the meadow katydid right in front of my nose.

This is a Long-spurred Meadow Katydid (Orchelimum silvaticum), a species with a green face and body, orange eyes, and reddish-brown color on the top of the abdomen. Meadow katydid species can be best distinguished from one another by the shape of their cerci (the paired appendages on the rear-most segment of the abdomen). Those of the Long-spurred Meadow Katydid have, as the name implies, a long, curved spur and are fairly sharp pointed, as shown below.

The Long-spurred Meadow Katydid is most similar to the Lesser Pine Katydid (Orchelimum minor), a species that occurs south and east of here. It is also similar in appearance to the Common Meadow Katydid (Orchelimum vulgare) and the Gladiator Meadow Katydid (Orchelimum gladiator). Gladiator Meadow Katydids are said to call earlier in the year, and to most often be found in wetlands. The cerci of the Common Meadow Katydid are blunt at the tip and have a much shorter spur. Also, the ventro-lateral hind femur of the Long-spurred Meadow Katydid has a few distal spines, while the ventro-lateral hind femur of the Common Meadow Katydid does not have these spines. I was able to see these spines when I zoomed in on my photos. Below is a video that shows the Long-spurred Meadow Katydid calling from Autumn Olive (Elaeagnus umbellata).

So there's a start. More to come, I'm sure. I saw several species new to me today in northwest Indiana, but I didn't have my camera with me at the time. Unacceptable, I know.

Tree Crickets

Thanks to Carl Strang of Nature Inquiries, I will never hear the peaceful silence of a clear midsummer day or night the same way again. In fact, I'm not sure how I have lived so many years without realizing that instead of silence, an unappreciated symphony of harmonious chords plays daily and nightly as male Orthoptera attempt to charm their female counterparts. Back in February, Lindsay and I attended the 2009 Wild Things conference in Chicago, where Carl gave an insightful presentation on singing insects that will forever change how I use my senses when afield. I am thankful that I decided to attend that presentation and grateful to Carl for opening my ears.

Singing insects are made up of Crickets, Katydids, Grasshoppers, and Cicadas. Each of these groups is further split into sections; for example, the Crickets are further divided into Field and Bush Crickets, Ground Crickets, Tree Crickets, Mole Crickets, and Trigs. Each of these sections is made up of numerous species. The Tree Crickets, which are up to about an inch long, are a particularly interesting group made up of two genera (Oecanthus and Neoxabea) in the United States and Canada. In the recording below, I am pretty sure that the long, melodious trill in the background (much like the song of the American Toad) is one or two species of Tree Cricket, while the louder "dee-did" is the characteristic call of the Common True Katydid (Pterophylla camellifolia). I've just started learning these insects, so if anyone disagrees with my assessments, please let me know. I apologize for the poor sound quality.

While some singing insects, such as Grasshoppers, call during the day, Tree Crickets call primarily in the evening and at night. Their purpose, as is the purpose in most cases of song in nature, is to attract a mate. Tree Crickets "sing" by holding their wings upright and rubbing together ridges on their forewings. Once a male has attracted a female and she approaches, the male begins to secrete a sweet liquid from the metanotal glands (also descriptively called "honey pots") on his back. The unsuspecting female climbs onto his back to eat this tasty treat, and as she is doing so, the male sneaks a spermatophore onto to the female. The longer she stays to consume this "love juice," the better chance there is that he will be successful in reproducing.

In the photo above, I have a Tree Cricket in the genus Oecanthus in the palm of my hand. Several of the species in this genus can be told apart from one another by the number and organization of black spots at the base of their antennae. By clicking on the photo to expand it, you can see black spots, but I can't tell for sure how many are present. Possibilities for this species include Snowy Tree Cricket (Oecanthus fultoni), Four-spotted Tree Cricket (Oecanthus quadripunctatus), Davis's Tree Cricket (Oecanthus exclamationis), and Narrow-winged Tree Cricket (Oecanthus niveus).

Above is a member of the other genus of Tree Cricket; this is a Two-spotted Tree Cricket (Neoxabea bipunctata), the largest tree cricket in North America. Two-spotted Tree Crickets are found throughout most of the eastern half of the United States. Be sure to click on the photo above to expand it for more detail.

I am just beginning to learn about singing insects, but I am quickly becoming obsessed with them. Much of the information in this post is from The Songs of Insects, a wonderful and beautiful book by Lang Elliot and Wil Hershberger that can also be found online at http://www.musicofnature.com/songsofinsects/index.html.

Now I just need to learn how to find and recognize more of these incredible creatures!

An Undeniably Showy Sedge

"Sedges have Edges." That's the saying that all budding botanists learn in their first college botany course to help them remember how to differentiate a sedge from a grass or a rush. This saying is referring to the fact that the culms, or stems, of most (but not all) sedge species are triangular in cross-section. While there are several better ways to distinguish between the monocot families, this is apparently the character that academics thought would be easiest to teach, as the others often require use of a handlens and some patience. For example... Grass (Poaceae) flowers are modified into glumes subtending lemmas and paleas, within which the pistil and stamens are located. Rush (Juncaceae) flowers are comprised of tepals (petals and sepals) surrounding the stamens and pistil, with the structure one expects of a typical flower. Sedge (Cyperaceae) flowers are modified into scales subtending pistils, stamens, or both, sometimes with a corolla modified into bristles. When the ovary of a sedge flower matures to fruit, it is called an achene. In Carex, the largest genus within the Cyperaceae, the flower and later the achene are surrounded by a papery sac, called a perigynium, which is thought to be a highly modified bract.

Bristlystalked Sedge (Carex leptalea)

Unfortunately, the general public doesn't see sedges as anything more than "grass." The perigynia are often brown or green and small, and most often go unnoticed by the untrained eye. The most conspicuous portion of the plant is often the long, narrow, grass-like leaves. Personally, I disagree with the general public, and think that most sedges are quite intriguing and beautiful, once you get to know them.

Northeastern Sedge (Carex cryptolepis)

Yellowfruit Sedge (Carex annectens v. xanthocarpa)

While some will argue that most sedges are not showy, there is one sedge in North America that truly stands out from the rest. Instead of having brown or green perigynia, Golden Sedge (Carex aurea) has round, fleshy, orange perigynia (when mature) that look like tiny pumpkins! It is unknown why the perigynia of this species have evolved to this form, but some speculate that this may assist the plant in being dispersed by birds.

Golden Sedge (Carex aurea)

Golden Sedge can be found growing in wet, alkaline soils throughout most of the continent, with the exception of the southeastern United States and extreme northern Canada.

Who could think that this unique little plant is not attractive?

Fruit of the Gods? I Don't Think So!

I often hear people, when talking about a non-native plant species, say, "I hate that plant." To this, my response is always, "Don't hate the plant, hate the people who brought it here." Plants obviously don't have the ability to know that they are invading an area to which they are not native, so why hold them responsible? Even today, when invasive species are well known and discouraged in landscaping and erosion control projects, some people still intentionally introduce them. Is it the plant's fault? I don't think so.

This being said, there is one genus that I truly hate. Well, hate is a strong word, and I do still have a degree of respect for this genus, so let's just say that I dislike this genus. The genus to which I am referring is Ambrosia; the Latin name refers to the fruit of the gods (why, I have no idea). In this part of the country, there are two common species of ragweed: A. artemisiifolia v. elatior and A. trifida. Here, I will discuss the latter.


"It isn't attractive," you say, "but Scott, why do you dislike it so?" Here's why... Ambrosia trifida is known more commonly as Giant Ragweed (or Great Ragweed). I learned at a young age, when I thought that ragweed was the yellow-plumed plant covering old-fields and blooming in August and September, that I was severely allergic to the pollen of ragweed. I later learned that this yellow-flowered plant that I saw flowering when hay-fever was setting in, is actually goldenrod (Solidago spp.), which has heavy pollen that is spread by insects rather than by the wind, as the pollen of ragweed is spread. There were many late afternoons in my youth that I was laid out on the couch with a wet washcloth on my eyes to reduce the swelling, struggling to suck in every precious breath. Even as recently as 10 years ago, before I was introduced to the miraculous nasal spray Flonase, I would go to bed on a humid August night wondering if I would be able to breath until I woke up in the morning. Yeah, ragweed and I don't get along.


All of this said, it is still quite an impressive plant. Giant Ragweed, a member of the Sunflower Family (Asteraceae), can reach heights of nearly 20 feet tall, dying back annually and doing it all again by starting as a new seedling the next spring. The rough-textured, deeply 3- to 5-lobed opposite leaves can also produce a short-lived rash if you walk through enough of them, which I certainly have. The flower structure is also unique in Giant Ragweed. Most of the flowers are staminate, meaning that they are only male flowers. The pistillate, or female, flowers, are few and at the base of long spikes of staminate flowers. The flowers lack petals, causing them to be unattractive to insects as pollinators. That's alright... the wind has no problem dispersing the tiny, lightweight pollen grains. Giant Ragweed often forms large near-monoculture colonies in disturbed and alluvial soils, and grows in 47 of the continental United States (how did Nevada get so lucky?). It is said to be native throughout much of its range.

Above, you can see the individual staminate flower heads, consisting of green phyllaries and yellow pollen-covered clusters of stamens, representing disk flowers. Below is a typical leaf of Giant Ragweed.

After walking through a field of Giant Ragweed, my clothes are often yellow as a result of being covered in pollen. I also often see puffs of yellow raining down from the plants when I bump into them. The result can be seen below, as pollen grains cover anything with which they come into contact.

More impressively, below is a photograph of a pollen grain of Giant Ragweed under a scanning electron microscope. This photo is from http://pro.corbis.com/Enlargement/Enlargement.aspx?id=IH056326&ext=1, © Lester V. Bergman/CORBIS. You can see the mace-like appearance of the individual pollen grain. The spikes allow the grain to cling onto anything it touches, and also severely irritate the inside of my nose. I'm sneezing just thinking about it!

Even though Giant Ragweed causes me and countless others so much discomfort, hopefully you can see why it is still difficult for me to truly hate this species.

A Sunday Walk in the Park

Our friends Mike and Ben came to visit this weekend, and we spent Sunday morning at Potato Creek State Park.


Along the trails, Lindsay found a small white and black-striped caterpillar with long, white hairs. The caterpillar was crawling on Canadian Clearweed (Pilea pumila). As you can see, Ben was excited to see this little creature.


I believe that this is a Hickory Tussock Moth caterpillar (Lophocampa caryae), but I don't see the long tufts of black hairs that are commonly found on this species. Hickory Tussock Moths feed on a variety of tree species, including hickory and pecan (Carya spp.), walnut (Juglans spp.), American Hornbeam (Carpinus caroliniana), ash (Fraxinus spp.), elm (Ulmus spp.), oak (Quercus spp.), and willow (Salix spp.). A rash can sometimes form on people who touch this caterpillar, and it has also been said to inflict a sting.

A bit later, Lindsay saw an Eastern Box Turtle (Terrapene carolina) with a beautifully patterned shell scurrying across the trail. The Eastern Box Turtle is one of only two turtle species in Indiana that spends most of its life outside of the water; the other is the Ornate Box Turtle (Terrapene ornata). Amazingly, there are records indicating that Eastern Box Turtles can live up to 120 years old! While this species is not uncommon, studies show that their numbers are decreasing as a result of habitat destruction and collecting.

Near the end of our walk, I spotted a large orange and black butterfly, and was able to get a few photos before it flew off. I think this is a Great Spangled Fritillary (Speyeria cybele), a common species of woodlands and meadows. Great Spangled Fritillary caterpillars overwinter, feed on violets (Viola spp.), and develop into an adult butterfly the following summer. They have been found alive until late September, making them a long-lived butterfly species.

Weekend Insects

While botanizing this past weekend, I ran into an array of interesting insects, including one yellow jacket that wasn't too happy to be stuck under my shirt sleeve. Below are some photos of the more docile and cooperative species that I saw.

This gorgeous fluorescent blue and black-striped damselfly is in the group called bluets. The best that I can tell, this is a Tule Bluet (Enallagma carunculata). As always, help with identification, if I'm wrong, is much appreciated. This individual was observed at Merry Lea Environmental Center, close to Bear Lake, in Noble County, Indiana. Take a gander at the look he is giving me in the photo below. I think he's had enough of me chasing him around.


At the pannes north of Miller Woods in Lake County, Indiana, I saw the female Eastern Amberwing (Perithemis tenera) pictured below. This small, orange-tinged dragonfly, which is typically less than an inch long, can be confused for a wasp because of its size and the way that it moves in flight. Males of this species don't have the spotted wing pattern that the females do, but instead have solid amber-colored wings. Eastern Amberwings are most often found over lakes and ponds.


Also in one of the pannes, I ran into this crazy creature...


Ever seen anything like it? I sure hadn't. This white and black-checkered member of the long-horned beetle family is a Cottonwood Borer (Plectrodera scalator). The pattern on this beetle reminds me of a Rorschach inkblot test. Cottonwood Borers have a body that is over an inch and a half long, with spiny antennae that alone exceed that length! As the name implies, this species relies on Eastern Cottonwood (Populus deltoides), willows (Salix spp.), and other members of the willow family (Salicaceae) for multiple stages of its life cycle. In the photos above and below, the adult Cottonwood Borer is feeding on Bayberry Willow (Salix myricoides).

Have a close look at those mandibles. It's amazing that they only eat leaves and young twigs! After mating, the female lays eggs in pits at the base of a Salicaceous tree. The larvae hatch and burrow further into the tree, feeding as they go. This process can take up to two years. The larva then pupates in a root below ground, metamorphizes into an adult, and digs its way out from the ground. Because it doesn't leave from the tree itself, it leaves no exit hole in the tree.

With colorful insects that have life cycles like this, it's amazing I am still able to focus on the plants!

An Unexpected Detour

Lindsay and I are still working on labeling our photos from our recent trip to Colorado. It certainly is quite a task! In the meantime, here's a quick post just to keep you interested...

On July 15, after driving from Broomfield to Avon, Colorado the day before, we left our lodge early in the morning in anticipation of a long day of arduous hiking at Missouri Lakes in Holy Cross Wilderness. Our morning started off on the wrong track, literally, as we turned the wrong way on I-70 from Avon and had to turn around. Oh well... we had an early start, so we were still in good shape for the expected 8 hour hike from montane forest through subalpine and into the alpine before heading back down. After turning off of Highway 24, we had another 30 minutes or so of driving up gravel roads to the Missouri Lakes trail head. Approximately 3/4 of a mile from the trail head, Eric noticed the smell of maple syrup, and then he saw steam coming from under the hood of his car. When we opened the hood, there was antifreeze spewing everywhere.

Not being much of "car people," we weren't sure what to do. We were stranded on a mountain with no cell phone service. The good news was that it was 8 AM, so we had all day to figure out what to do, and there are much worse places to be stranded...


So we waited. A few hikers driving up the mountain drove by and asked if they could help, but none of them were "car people" either. Then two guys driving down the mountain, who had been hiking and camping at Missouri Lakes for several days, stopped and offered to help. They were heading towards Leadville, 45 minutes away, and offered to drive us to town. Eric didn't want to leave his car there unattended, so he offered to go to Leadville, leaving Lindsay and me at the car. Once Eric left, Lindsay and I had at least an hour and a half to burn, so I ventured off botanizing. It was then and there that I first saw Colorado's State Flower, Colorado Blue Columbine (Aquilegia coerulea). We saw quite a bit of this conspicuous, showy plant during our trip, but I wouldn't have found this individual had we not broken down.

When it is at peak bloom, the sepals (the blue parts) are more spreading than they are in this photo

About 30 minutes later, two guys driving up the mountain stopped to ask if we needed help. I told them, "Not unless you're mechanics," and explained that Eric had headed to town and intended to have a tow truck pick up the car. They drove to the front of our vehicle, got out, and, to our astonishment, said, "Actually, we are mechanics." What are the chances? Both guys just happened to work for Beaver Creek Ski Resort near Vail, repairing vehicles and equipment! Within 45 minutes, they had determined that there was a split in the radiator bipass hose, had taken off the hose and taped the split with electrical tape, and had put the hose back on. Amazing. And they would accept no form of compensation... they said they just didn't want to leave anyone stranded. We are forever grateful.

Lindsay and I started driving back down the mountain towards Highway 24, stopping to look for birds and to check the hose periodically. Along our drive, we saw the only Western Scrub Jay of our trip. The electrical tape seemed to be holding up, but we didn't know where Eric was, and we didn't want to start driving to Leadville and have him pass us on his way back to Missouri Lakes. We stopped at Highway 24 so I could try to call Eric. I still didn't really have cell phone reception, so I started to walk up Highway 24. There was one spot along the road where I had mediocre reception; if I went any higher up the incline, I lost reception; any lower, I lost reception. I called Eric, and during our broken phone call, heard him say "nothing is working out... Lisa is coming to pick us up... if you can, get to Leadville." We decided to head to Leadville.

About 25 minutes later, Lindsay was able to call Eric, and we found out where to meet him. Upon meeting up with Eric, we found out that it would have cost ~$600 to tow the car to Leadville. We were able to take the car to a local shop, where it was fixed for $64 in an hour while we ate lunch. We were back on the road by around 1 PM, and instead of going back to Missouri Lakes, went to Independence Pass where we saw an amazing subalpine/alpine community that we had not intended to visit. I'll post photos from Independence Pass at some point. We were still able to go to Missouri Lakes the following day, so we really only lost half a day due to our detour.

My Newest Favorite Place

Last week, Lindsay and I visited friends in the Centennial State. We had never been to Colorado, and after our visit, we vowed to go back to visit once a year. What beautiful country! Unfortunately, I can't post my best plant photos, because I have to hold onto those for Botany Slideshow 2009. But here are a few photos from our journey.

Here I am botanizing with Eric at Jewel Mountain, a xeric tallgrass community near Boulder. Mountains can make any photograph more attractive, don't you think?

We spent a little time at a place called Hanging Lake, where the water was so clear that you could easily see identifying characteristics of fish without taking them out of the water.

We also explored several alpine communities. The alpine has to be one of my favorite plant communities, where the plants only get a few inches tall because of the resilient winds and colder climate. You wouldn't know it from the photograph above, but this golf course-looking vegetation growing almost on exposed rock is actually a dense mat full of native wildflower diversity.

The subalpine meadows, like the one shown above at Missouri Lakes near Leadville, Colorado, are breath-taking (literally) as well.

Thanks to Eric, Lisa, and Julia for giving us a place to stay and showing us around for the week. We can't wait to get back.

More to come as we continue to label and go through our ~800 photos.

Expanding My Horizons

I am a botanist, first and foremost. That's why last weekend, when I saw what you see in the photograph below, my first thought was, "cool... Asclepias hirtella!". Tall Green Milkweed, as it is commonly known, is primarily a plant of prairies and glades throughout the middle of North America.


Luckily, about the time Tony Troche and I found this plant, renowned Chicagoland entomologist and biologist Ron Panzer just happened to be walking by. While Ron also saw the Tall Green Milkweed, he had the careful eye to also note the presence of several Acadian Hairstreaks (Satyrium acadica). I would have known that this was a hairstreak, given the small size, grayish color, and small hairs on the hind wing, but that's where my identification would have stopped.

This small (up to 1.25") butterfly species is found in a narrow band from New England to the east side of the Rocky Mountains, most often near willows (Salix spp.) in wetlands. In fact, caterpillars of this species feed exclusively on willows. Adults feed on nectar from various plant species, including Meadowsweet (Spiraea alba), New Jersey Tea (Ceanothus americanus), thistles (Cirsium spp.), and milkweeds (Asclepias spp.), and fly from June to early July. While their numbers are considered globally secure, this is considered by many to be a rare butterfly.

I am constantly trying to expand my understanding and appreciation of our natural world. Thanks to great naturalists like Ron, who are passionate and eager to teach others, I can continue to expand my horizons.

Worth the Drive

After the heavy rains passed through on the morning of July 11, 2009, Tony Troche and I set out for a fine day of botanizing. I used almost an entire tank of gas throughout the day, as one of our destinations was a prairie on the south side of Chicago from where the Federally Threatened Eastern Prairie Fringed Orchid (Platanthera leucophaea) is known. I don't do much botanizing in Chicago because of the distance from home, and usually the traffic is horrible. But on this day, the trip was definitely worth the drive.

Unfortunately, while the plants were still in flower, they were just a bit past their prime. While Eastern Prairie Fringed Orchid can be over 3 feet tall, it can still be somewhat difficult to spot, especially when it is growing with so many other white-flowering species, including Wild Quinine (Parthenium integrifolium), Annual Fleabane (Erigeron annuus), and White Wild Indigo (Baptisia alba v. macrophylla). The plants that we saw were in less dense, lower growing prairie vegetation than was present in other parts of the prairie.

While its geographical range is centered in the Great Lakes states and provinces, Eastern Prairie Fringed Orchid is also known from North Dakota, Iowa, Missouri, Oklahoma, Virginia, and Maine. It is very rare throughout most of its range. A single plant can live up to 30 years, which is a long time for members of this genus.

Eastern Prairie Fringed Orchid can be found in bogs and dry to wet prairies. It can also withstand some degradation, to the point that it has been found on roadsides and in ditches.

Only four species, all hawk moths, are known to pollinate Eastern Prairie Fringed Orchid. This important fact emphasizes the point that our natural world is a delicate chain of intertwined organisms, and that if any link of this chain is removed, the entire system is threatened.