Tag: moth

Bug o’the Week – Dogwood Scurfy Scale

Bug o’the Week
by Kate Redmond

Dogwood Scurfy Scale

Howdy, BugFans,

If asked to describe a Red-osier dogwood shrub, lots of people would say “it has red bark with white lumps on it.”  It does – but it doesn’t.

Some of our most un-bug-like bugs are the scale insects.  There are lots of them worldwide – about 8,400 species in 36 families.  They’re called scales because they (the females, anyway) cling, limpet-like, to their food plant, protected under a waxy covering that looks fish-scale-ish.  They’re sexually dimorphic (“two forms”), and adult males – in the species where males exist – are often tiny and gnat-like.  If your basic definition of an insect is “six legs, some wings, and three body parts that are divided in segments” you’ll have to suspend it a bit for the scales.

Their nearest relatives are aphids, whiteflies, jumping plant lice, and phylloxera bugs.

They hatch from eggs that the female lays under her body (or they are viviparous – popped out “live”), sometimes fertilized with the help of a male and sometimes produced by parthenogenesis (“virgin birth”), and a very few species are hermaphroditic (they have dual equipment and can self-fertilize, and so a single individual can create a whole population).  Six-legged when they hatch, scales enjoy two short, mobile instars (they’re called “crawlers”), during which they disperse, but their legs are short, so they don’t go far without help (crawlers may also be blown around by the wind).  Then the tiny females settle down, attach to a host, and lose their legs, generally staying put for the rest of their lives.  The short-lived males must find females where they sit, and although he may be winged, his wings are not good for much, so he comes on foot.  There are generally several generations per year.

Scales are vegetarians, feeding on plant sap that they suck from leaves or branches.  Some are found only on specific hosts and others are more generalist feeders, and although a very few species feed on mosses, lichens, and algae, as a group, they’re fond of the woody plants.  Their predators include some ladybugs and lacewings, and a few parasitoid wasps whose larvae consume the insect (they target younger scales) or the eggs under the scale.  There are scale insects that are serious plant pests, scale insects that are used to control invasive plants, and scale insects that are “cultivated” because they’re used to produce shellacs, waxes, and red dyes. 

The two, big divisions of scale insects are “cushiony” and “armored” scales.  Cushiony scales tend to be lumpier than armored scales, and they’re permanently attached to their waxy covering.  The excess sap that they consume, released as a sweet fluid called “honeydew,” attracts other insects to feed on it, and some species of scale are cared for by ants that protect the scales from predators, harvest the honeydew, and help the crawlers find fresh twigs.  The downside of honeydew is that sooty mold grows on leaves where its sticky sweetness falls, which interferes with photosynthesis and isn’t very wholesome looking.  A species of cottony scale was featured in a BOTW years ago https://uwm.edu/field-station/bug-of-the-week/cottony-scale-family-coccidae/

Dogwood scurfy scales are armored scales, and armored scales are in the family Diaspididae, the largest scale family (2650 species).  Armored scales feed on hosts from 180 plant families.  They’re not attached to their waxy cover, are smaller and flatter than cottony scales, and they don’t produce honeydew.  Their tough – armored- coverings may be round, elliptical, or oyster shell-shaped and may have concentric rings/ridges.  The female incorporates the shed skins from her crawler stage into her growing shell, and the wax is made and shaped by a structure called the pygidium at the rear of the abdomen.  The critter below the scale has knob-like antennae, no legs, and little distinction between head and thorax.  

Not surprisingly, with so many species of armored scales, there are many different lifestyles.  In general, she lays her eggs or live young under her scale, which has a slit at the rear that allows them to exit.  Her eggs overwinter under the shelter of her scale, though she’s no longer alive when they hatch.

The BugLady saw a paper that said that some armored scales may get around by phoresy – hitchhiking – sticking to their six-legged taxi cabs (the study identified a fly, a ladybug, and an ant) with the help of a few “suction-cup”-tipped hairs on each of their legs

FUN FACT ABOUT ANT PARTNERSHIPS

An odd relationship has evolved between a species of African ant and a species of armored scale (which, remember, have no honeydew to trade for ant favors).  The ants shelter the scales in the galleries/tunnels they live in under tree bark – the ants are so specialized that they spend their whole lives there.  The scales no longer need protection from the elements or from predators, so most of them are “naked,” though some still make wax and other scale-building materials that the ants eat along with the crawlers’ shed skins and various scale “excretions.”  The whole thing hinges on the ant queen finding a suitable host tree and rounding up crawler-aged scales during her brief nuptial flight.

As the poet Muriel Rukeyser once said, “The world is made of stories, not atoms.”

SCURFY DOGWOOD SCALE/RED-OSIER SCALE INSECT

The BugLady started nibbling around the edges of this episode at least three years ago and hit a brick wall pretty fast.  The Extension and Horticultural sites mostly said – “Yup, dogwoods get scales” but offered no names or biographies, so, the original iteration of this BOTW was something like, “These are dogwood scurfy scales – they’re everywhere, but no one’s written anything about them – thanks as always to PJ at the Insect Diagnostic Lab in Madison for pointing the BugLady toward an ID.” 

But the BugLady could never do that, so…..

In her initial search for a name, the BugLady came across the pine leaf scale (Chionaspis pinifoliae https://bugguide.net/node/view/361628/bgimage) that looked similar, but she thought it was unlikely to be her scale because, well, pine needles.  The dogwood scale suggested by PJ is Chionaspis corni; in the same genus, but when you Google Chionaspis corni, most hits are for Chionaspis pinifoliae.  Bugguide.net lists no other genus members and although the dogwood scurfy scale is common here, does not even show the genus as occurring in Wisconsin (buggide’s caveat about its range maps is “The information below is based on images submitted and identified by contributors. Range and date information may be incomplete, overinclusive, or just plain wrong”).

Just to make things interesting, the accepted spelling of the genus name (since 1868) is Chionaspis, but over the years it has officially been misspelled by later taxonomists as Chianaspis, Chiomaspis, and Chionapsis.

The BugLady checked the wonderful Illinois Wildflowers website https://www.illinoiswildflowers.info/ and found the dogwood scale (along with several other species of scale including the willow scale and the Gloomy scale) mentioned in the Faunal Associations sections of the write-ups of red-osier and flowering dogwoods and several other dogwood shrubs. 

And one more thing – “scurfy” means rough or scaly or covered with scurf, and a “scurf” is a flake, scale or dandruff.

Whew!

Kate Redmond, The BugLady

Bug of the Week archives:
http://uwm.edu/field-station/category/bug-of-the-week/

Bug o’the Week – Common Buckeye Butterfly rewrite

Bug o’the Week
by Kate Redmond

Common Buckeye Butterfly rewrite

Howdy, BugFans,

The BugLady originally wrote about the Common Buckeye in January of 2009, but she thinks she might have given it short shrift (due to insufficient scholarship), so here’s a rewritten version with new words and new pictures.

The first thing to know about Common Buckeyes is that they are not Yankee butterflies – they are Southerners (from a largely tropical genus) that recolonize God’s Country in varying numbers from year to year and produce a two or three broods here, depending on whether spring and/or fall is long and mild.  But they are not very “freeze-tolerant,” and they can’t survive Wisconsin winters in any stage, so they wander back south in the fall.  Brock and Kaufman, in their Field Guide to Butterflies of North America, report that fall migrations of Common Buckeyes, especially on the Atlantic coast, can be spectacular.  The BugLady saw some out on the prairie as recently as a week ago – they always see her and her camera before she sees them (with their wings closed, they’re pretty well camouflaged), and they fly farther down the trail to wait for her.

The Common Buckeye (Junonia coenia, aka Precis coenia) (not the Ohio buckeye – that’s a tree) belongs to the Order Lepidoptera (“scaled wings”) which includes the butterflies and the moths.  Of the 12,000 species of Lepidoptera in North America north of Mexico, only about 700 are butterflies.  Along with the usual six-legs-three-body-parts insect stuff, moths and butterflies have in common four wings that are covered with easily-rubbed-off scales (the upper surface of a butterfly’s wing often has a different pattern then the lower surface does), and mouthparts in the form of a coiled tube called a proboscis that is used for feeding on liquids like nectar and sap.  Caterpillars chew; butterflies and moths sip. 

Rules of thumb for telling them apart are that (generally) butterflies sit with their wings held out to the side or folded vertically above their bodies, and moths hold their wings flat over or wrapped around their body.  Butterflies have a thickened tip/knob on the end of their antennae; moths’ antennae may be bare or feathery but are never knobbed.  Butterflies are active by day (though the BugLady had night-feeding Northern Pearly-eye butterflies who hadn’t read that part of the playbook), and moths are generally active in late afternoon and through the night.  Some moths have bright colors and patterns, but as a group, they tend to be drab – what birders call “LBJ’s” – “Little Brown Jobs.”  Because of their pigmented and/or prismatic scales, many butterflies are the definition of the word “dazzling.” 

Buckeyes belong to the “Brush-footed butterfly” family Nymphalidae, a large group of strong, colorful fliers whose front legs are noticeably hairy and are reduced in size (leading to another nickname – “four-footed butterflies”).  There are a number of brush-foots that migrate and others that, contrary to the usual insect practice, overwinter as adults.  Many Nymphalid caterpillars are nocturnal and spiny.  

The “Butterflies of Massachusetts” website says of this beautiful butterfly that “The Halloween-costumed Buckeye wears the colors of fall in New England.”  Buckeyes are named for the eyespots on their wings, which are reminiscent of the spots on buckeye nuts.  Many members of the genus Junonia have eyespots to scare away predators, and an eyespot can even be seen in the Buckeye’s pupal wing case. 

Both the caterpillar and the adult are variable in color – an adult whose underwing surface is tan is from an early summer generation, and one whose underwing is rosy is from the final brood of the year – the color change is controlled by genes and is a response to the temperatures that the caterpillar is exposed to.  There is no other butterfly species in Wisconsin that can be mistaken for them. 

Buckeyes are sun-lovers, butterflies of sunny habitats like open fields, disturbed areas, trails, edges, and grassy dunes, where they often perch on the ground.  “Butterflies of Massachusetts” speculates that this species has become more common since the European settlers cleared the great forests for agriculture, and notes that it is one of our native butterflies that has adopted a non-native “weed” (English plantain) as a food plant.  Adults sip nectar from dogbanes and from those confusing fall composites (asters and goldenrods), and they sip fluids from decaying fruit. 

Males are feisty and territorial, chasing other flying objects, both butterfly and non-butterfly alike.  He scouts for females from a perch on the ground or on low vegetation.  After mating, females oviposit on leaves and leaf buds of host plants – mostly members of the plantain (the lawn plant, not the banana relative) and snapdragon families.  Caterpillars https://bugguide.net/node/view/1939097/bgimage are solitary and non-aggressive, even when they bump into another caterpillar on the same plant.  The pupae https://bugguide.net/node/view/2214613/bgimage are said to look like bird poop (pretty fancy bird poop, indeed!). 

Caterpillar food plants often contain toxic chemicals (iridoid glycosides) that besides being very bitter, will literally stunt the growth of a predator that eats a caterpillar – chemicals that, conversely, make the caterpillars hungry.  Chemicals that, when the female senses them, will stimulate her to oviposit.  Predators seem to sense the presence of the glycosides and prefer caterpillars with low/no levels of them.  Caterpillars must be careful of getting too much of a good thing – excessive amounts of iridoid glycosides can affect their immune system negatively.

Ain’t Nature Grand!

Kate Redmond, The BugLady

Bug of the Week archives:
http://uwm.edu/field-station/category/bug-of-the-week/

Bug o’the Week – Two Enigmatic Insects

Bug o’the Week
by Kate Redmond

Two Enigmatic Insects

Howdy, BugFans,

In her program about insect Natural History, the BugLady says to the audience “so – we’ve been studying insects for hundreds of years – we’ve got it all nailed down, right?”  Sure.  The BugLady has had some interesting adventures with insects this year.  Even if she can identify them (a big “if” – the X-Files are bursting), not all of them lead transparent lives (“What is it?” should, after all, not be the last question we ask about an organism, it should be the first, and the answer helps open a bunch more doors).  The BugLady frequently writes about bugs who are caught in a classification dust-up.  Here are two poster children for “temporarily displaced” insects.

THE BRACKEN BORER MOTH (maybe) 

When the BugLady photographed this beautiful moth on her back porch rail in mid-September, she knew that it was in the genus Papaipema (the borer moths) (in the Owlet moth family Noctuidae), but which species?  Caterpillars of a few Papaipema species are somewhat generalist feeders, but many are highly specific about host choice, as is evidenced by names like Blazing star borer, meadow rue borer moth, pitcher plant, burdock, iron weed, hop, and rattlesnake master borer, Joe-Pye, aster, columbine, sunflower, coneflower, turtlehead, royal fern, and cinnamon fern borer, and more (there are 50 species). 

It’s a genus of moths that flies and reproduces in late summer and early fall and that are generally found near their host species.  The eggs overwinter and hatch in spring, and the modus operandi of their rarely-seen caterpillars https://bugguide.net/node/view/1127727 is to bore into the roots, rhizomes, and/or stems of their (non-woody) host plants, feed in seclusion, pupate in summer, and emerge in fall.  Bugguide.net remarks that “Many species are rare or locally distributed. Numbers have generally declined since historical times due to loss of wetland and prairie habitat, and the resulting scarcity of particular food plants upon which some species depend (the names of various Papaipema species appear on a number of state lists of “species in greatest need of conservation”).”  Wagner, et al, in Owlet Caterpillars of Eastern North America write that “the genus seems to be speciating rapidly as evidenced by the number of species that are known to be geographically localized….  As might be expected of a large genus with specialized habits, a number of species seem to be slipping toward extinction.  Close to a third of Connecticut’s 30 species have not been seen in more than three decades…”

So, who was BugLady’s visitor?  It looked an awful lot like the Bracken Borer moth (Papaipema pterisii) (https://bugguide.net/node/view/1443121/bgimage), whose food plant is Bracken fern (https://illinoiswildflowers.info/grasses/plants/bracken_fern.htm).  The problem was that the BugLady hasn’t seen any bracken fern in her neighborhood, but she and the moth were 20 feet away from lots of Ostrich fern.  Is there an Ostrich fern borer? 

She found a picture of a “potential” Ostrich fern borer https://guides.nynhp.org/ostrich-fern-borer-moth/, and the plot thickened.  It hasn’t really been described or named yet (it’s one of several possibly-emerging new Papaipema species), but the DNRs and Natural Heritage Departments of a number of Northeastern states refer to it as “unnamed Papaipena species #2” or call it “Papaipema sp. 2 nr. Pterisii,” and they’re keeping an eye on it.  It’s described as being larger and more richly colored than, and flying a bit later in the fall than the Bracken fern borer.  It feeds on Ostrich fern (first in the stem and later in the roots), and its pupae are found in the soil at the base of Ostrich fern stalks.  You can’t tell the difference between it and the Bracken borer in a photograph.

But what is its status in Wisconsin, the BugLady wondered?  She asked PJ, and PJ asked Les, and Les recommended sticking with Bracken borer for now – it’s not known if the Bracken borer might be using more than one host, and identifications shouldn’t be made just on the basis of host plants.  It is likely not a valid species, said Les, but a publication due out in early 2025 may shed more light on it.  Thanks, Gentlemen.  Stay tuned.

YELLOW-FACED SWIFTWING – Version 1  

How do you tell a fly from a bee?  Easy – hymenopterans (bees, wasps, etc.) have four wings and flies have two.  Except that, hymenopterans typically perch with their wings more-or-less stacked, and very few are cooperative enough to spread their wings so that we can count them.  The BugLady recognized this bumble bee mimic as a fly because of its (wimpy) antennae and because of the large, flattened eyes https://bugguide.net/node/view/1838687/bgimage.  One entomologist calls them “wanna bees.”  Here’s a bumble bee for comparison https://bugguide.net/node/view/1221268/bgimage.

It’s a syrphid/hover/flower fly (family Syrphidae) in the genus Volucella (the Swiftwings), a genus that according to most internet sources has four species in North America.  Probably a Yellow-faced Swiftwing (Volucella facialis) (if it’s not, it’s an Eastern Swiftwing (V. evecta).  Members of the genus look a little “hippy” (no judgement) (“broad-bodied,” says one source), have triangular faces, and their “arista” (the bristle that juts off of the antenna) is plumose (feathery) https://bugguide.net/node/view/1870769/bgimage.  Here’s a glamour shot https://bugguide.net/node/view/1494989/bgimage. 

YELLOW-FACED SWIFTWING – Version 2   

So, the BugLady had settled on the narrative above, but then she found an article from the University of California, written in 2020, that pretty much upended it.  According to entomologist Andrew Young, there is only one species of Volucella fly in North America, and it’s Volucella bombylans, whose range stretches across Eurasia (it’s called the Bumblebee hover fly in England), the Near East, and North America.  There was no suggestion of whether it had or had not immigrated here from someplace else.  All the “other” Volucellas in this country, says Young, are simply varieties of V. bombylans, and they probably exist as a “species complex,” a group of closely-related species that look so much alike that we can’t differentiate among them and that may be able to hybridize.  Hold your horses, say other biologists, there are no species complexes, it’s just that our meager observational skills don’t yet allow us to detect their differences.  Scott King, in his The Flower Flies of Minnesota (2021), writes that “the Volucella bombylans species complex was only recently unraveled into three Nearctic [New World] species, two of which [V. facialis and V.evecta] live in Minnesota.”

Whatever the name, the life histories of these flies is similar – they lay their eggs in the nests of social wasps and especially of bumble bees (whose nests they have no trouble entering).  When the eggs hatch, the fly larvae are detritivores, feeding on organic debris in the nest, including dead bees, and on bee larvae, too, and some eat bee and wasp pupae within the nest.  They are inquilines – animals that live in another animal’s space (from the Latin word “inquilinus,” meaning tenant or lodger).  Some inquilines don’t eat their hosts, but some do.  The esteemed French naturalist and entomologist Henri Fabre (1823 to 1915) wondered how the larvae could survive inside a wasp nest: “What has it to make itself thus respected?  Strength?  Certainly not.  It is a harmless creature which the Wasp could rip open with a blow of her shears, while a touch of the sting would mean lightening death.” 

Adult Volucella are nectar feeders that, says Wikipedia, like to sun themselves on leaves, and it also says that the genus is strongly migratory and that males are often territorial.  Syrphids are important pollinators. 

Kate Redmond, The BugLady

Bug of the Week archives:
http://uwm.edu/field-station/category/bug-of-the-week/

Bug o’the Week – The End of Summer

Bug o’the Week
by Kate Redmond

The End of Summer

Howdy, BugFans,

We’ve arrived at the final act in this summer’s insect drama – a drama played out over the months by an ever-changing cast of characters.  Some are regulars, with successive generations appearing in multiple acts throughout the season, while others step in for only one act of the play.  Here are some of the actors that appeared on stage after mid-August.

DARNER WITH SPIDER – well, the darner migration was nothing short of magical this year, and then it was over.  And then it restarted – lots of Common Green Darners in the air on September 19 and 20, along with a bunch of Black Saddlebags.  They’re heading south along the lakeshore, aiming for the Gulf States, but they don’t all make it.  The BugLady’s guess is that this one was perched in the grass, and when it took off, it ran into the web of an orbweaver.  It messed up the web, but because it wasn’t flying at full power, the spider was able to snag it.  THANKS to the family that located this tableaux along the trail and pointed the BugLady at it.

TIGER SWALLOWTAIL – perfection on the wing, but far too few of them this summer.

GOLD-MARKED THREAD-WAISTED WASPS (Eremnophila) put the “thread” in the Thread-waisted wasp family (Sphecidae).  They’re solitary wasps that dig single-celled egg chambers in the ground and provision them with caterpillars of sphinx or owlet moths (and the odd of skipper butterfly caterpillar).  Her long legs allow her to straddle a larger caterpillar and walk it back to her nest https://bugguide.net/node/view/1408944/bgimage.  She keeps her strength up by sipping carb-rich flower nectar.

RED-LEGGED GRASSHOPPERS making more Red-legged grasshoppers.  ‘Tis the season.  

GRAY HAIRSTREAKS are listed as the most common hairstreak in North America (because their caterpillars are “catholic” eaters that feed on about 200 different plants), but they’re not common in Wisconsin.  

Fun facts about Gray Hairstreaks:

  1. The point of the eyespot and the “tail” is to make the butterfly’s rear end look like a front end, with eye and “antenna,” thus confusing predators;
  2. Gray hairstreak caterpillars are tended by ants in return for honeydew (produced, of course, in the caterpillar’s “honey gland”);
  3. Both the caterpillar and the pupa produce sound.

TREE CRICKET – the voice of the prairie in late summer and early fall.  This one is (probably) in the Oecanthus nigricornis group, maybe the Forbes tree cricket https://www.listeningtoinsects.com/tree-cricket-introduction

BIG SAND TIGER BEETLES are all about sand.  Their eggs are buried in the sand; their larvae https://bugguide.net/node/view/1277687/bgimage dig long tunnels in the sand and then pop out when unwary insects and spiders wander by.  At up to six feet long, the tunnel extends below the frost line and allows them to survive the winter.  Adults stand “on tiptoe” (stilting) to raise themselves incrementally higher off the hot sand.  Not surprisingly, Tiger beetles have fan clubs.

FIERY SKIPPER – these beautiful, inch-long, golden butterflies aren’t from around here, though they regularly visit God’s Country and beyond.  Their usual range is southern and even tropical, and they move north in mid-summer and produce a brood here, but it’s too cold for them to overwinter (for now).  They’ve made it to Hawaii and are unwelcome there, because their caterpillars feed on grasses. 

EUROPEAN PAPER WASPS are buzzing around the hawk tower these warm, sunny days, so the BugLady has to look sharp before she puts her hands on the railings.  Fortunately, they are jumpy wasps that usually spot her before she gets too close.  They arrived on the East Coast 40 or 50 years ago and have spread across the northern US and Canada.  They catch, masticate, and regurgitate caterpillars and other small insects for their larvae.  The lovely gold legs and antennae separate them from our common Northern paper wasp.

Fun facts about European paper wasps:

1)    The brighter the coloration of a female European paper wasp, the more toxic her sting is;

2)    Females with more spots on their faces are dominant.

FAMILIAR BLUETS – Big and startlingly blue, Familiar Bluets are one of the last damselflies on the scene.  (‘Tis the season.)

Caterpillars of VIRGINIAN TIGER MOTHS are also known as Yellow wooly bears or Yellow bear caterpillars (though they come in white, yellow, caramel, and rusty colors, and here’s a pink one https://bugguide.net/node/view/1728143/bgimage).  They’re food generalists, and so are all over the place (not just in Virginia).  Although some people are sensitive to their hairs, the hairs are not poisonous.  Adults are spectacularly white https://bugguide.net/node/view/1984450/bgimage, but when they are alarmed, they curl their abdomen to flash a startling orange https://bugguide.net/node/view/2329153/bgimage.   

NURSERYWEB SPIDERS carry their egg sac around in their jaws (wolf spiders carry theirs aft) and when the eggs are close to hatching, she creates a loose “nursery web,” installs the egg sac in it (hers was on the underside of the leaf), and then guards it until the eggs hatch and the spiderlings have molted once.  No help from Dad – if she doesn’t eat him (sexual cannibalism – an important nutrient booster) (he wraps her legs with silk during courtship to try to prevent this), he leaves to pursue other relationships.  He gives her a “nuptial gift” of a silk-wrapped prey item at the start of courtship so that she will think well of him, but after he has immobilized her and exchanged bodily fluids, he takes the gift with him when he goes. 

CRANE FLY – the “Old Wives” really got it wrong about Crane flies.  Though they’re also called “mosquito hawks,” they do not eat mosquitos (or any meat of any kind).  They do not bite anything at all, but they’re reputed to be the “most venomous insects in the world.”  The confusion may have come because of their resemblance to the cellar spiders, themselves getting a bad rap because their bites are practically harmless.  They’re just a short-lived fly whose larvae inhabit a variety of habitats from wetlands to lawns (where they both feed on and fertilize the grass).

EASTERN TAILED-BLUES are tiny butterflies with wingspans of an inch or less, but they’re tough enough to fly well into fall (four years ago, the BugLady saw one on November 4).  Like the Gray Hairstreak, the eye and tail on the hind wing are there to trick hungry birds into grabbing a wing, not an abdomen.  ‘Tis the season.

Go outside – there are still bugs!

Kate Redmond, The BugLady

Bug of the Week archives:
http://uwm.edu/field-station/category/bug-of-the-week/

Bug o’the Week – Imperial Moth

Bug o’the Week
by Kate Redmond

Imperial Moth

Greetings, BugFans,

Well, the BugLady completely zoned about National Moth Week last week, so we are celebrating it now, tardily (but hey, every week is Moth Week).

BugFan Mary emailed to say that she found a deceased Imperial Moth, and did the BugLady want to see it?  Oh yes!  Mary was keeping it in a plastic container, and by the time the BugLady connected with her, the moth was getting pretty fragrant.  The BugLady has sneaked pictures of appropriately-posed dead insects into a few BOTW episodes in the past, but none as obviously dead as this one.

Imperial moths are members of the Giant Silkworm/Royal Moth family Saturniidae, a group of often-large and often-spectacular moths with wingspreads up to 6.”  Saturniidae is divided into three subfamilies – the Royal moths, the Buck and Io moths https://bugguide.net/node/view/1670029/bgimage and https://bugguide.net/node/view/1768803/bgimage, and the Silk moths like the Cecropia, Polyphemus, and Luna moths – here’s a BOTW about the Silk moth subfamily https://uwm.edu/field-station/bug-of-the-week/giant-silk-moths-family-saturnidae/. 

[Slight detour for a gratuitous and awesome caterpillar in the Royal moth subfamily.  The Regal/Royal Walnut moth caterpillar even has its own name, the Hickory Horned Devil.  Here’s a nice series of pictures https://bugguide.net/node/view/11016/bgimage.] 

Female Saturniid moths “call” males by releasing pheromones.  Using their feathery antennae, the males can detect these chemicals from several miles away.

Saturniids produce large, spectacular, bumpy/knobbed/spiny/hairy caterpillars.  Most of the caterpillars feed, sometimes destructively, on leaves of a variety of woody plants (a few on grasses), but adults don’t feed at all, fueled, as one source said, only by what they ate as caterpillars. 

Their caterpillars protect themselves variously with camouflage (often, finding their frass (poop) is the first clue that they’re around), with stinging hairs, by producing clicking sounds, or by vomiting when attacked (it’s theorized that their aposematic (warning) coloration announces the upcoming vomit).  Many moths have eyespots on their wings to spook predators.  Saturniids do make silk, but it’s not particularly harvestable – the silkworm moths whose silk is woven into fabric are in a different family.   

For a variety of reasons, Saturniid populations are shrinking.  The usual suspects – habitat change and pesticides – are joined by high intensity street lights that interrupt mating (females tend to stay in the vicinity of their natal trees, but males are far-ranging and easily distracted by lights), and by overzealous introduction of parasitic flies and wasps meant to control the Spongy (formerly Gypsy) moth.  These non-native parasitoids, alas, show a decided affinity for the silk moths and not enough of an interest in Spongy moths.  Hopefully, we’re doing a better job at screening potential biological control species these days.  

Anyway, the IMPERIAL MOTH (Eacles imperialis), aka the Great Plane Tree moth and the Yellow Emperor, is in the Royal moth subfamily Ceratocampinae (which is Greek for “horned caterpillar”) and is one of two (or maybe more) species in its genus in the US, and (maybe) the only one in the East.  Variability in the color of Imperial moths and caterpillars https://www.marylandbiodiversity.com/view/335 (be sure to scroll all the way down) has led to some taxonomic tussles – there are regional morphs or color forms, subspecies, and sibling species.  Sibling species are evolution in action – a species that is splitting.  These are closely-related organisms whose forms look pretty much alike to us, but not to each other, so they don’t mate (reproductive isolation).  Next step – the development of more distinctive physical or behavioral characteristics, and finally, an official species nod.  One subspecies, the Pine Imperial moth (Eacles imperialis pini) occurs on both sides of the border from northern Michigan to Vermont, restricts its diet to conifer needles, and has been considered a separate species by some.  DNA barcoding will ride to the rescue.   

Imperial moths are primarily found in deciduous and mixed woodlands and barrens east of the Great Plains from Canada to Florida to Texas, and south to Argentina, but their historic range extended farther north than it does today.  Moths have wingspans of 4” to 5” https://bugguide.net/node/view/2038089/bgimage, with females slightly larger than males, and males more heavily marked than females.  Based on the two dark spots on the underside of the end of this moth’s abdomen (and its feathery antennae), it’s a male.  Caterpillars may measure up to 4.” 

Females call from the treetops at night and romance ensues https://bugguide.net/node/view/1395835/bgimage.  They place their eggs, singly or in small batches https://bugguide.net/node/view/802928/bgimage , on the upper and lower surfaces of leaves, laying several hundred in all.  Caterpillars feed alone, and when they’ve eaten enough, crawl down the tree trunk, dig a hole, and create a pupal cell underground.  They overwinter there, and the pupa emerges by backing up and out of its cell, onto the ground, early the next summer. 

The list of caterpillar host trees is long and includes oak, hickory, walnut, sycamore, basswood, maple, elm, beech, hornbeam, birch, some conifers and more.  In his Caterpillars of Eastern North America, Wagner says that “caterpillars feed by locking onto vegetation with their powerful anal prolegs (https://bugguide.net/node/view/1134273/bgimage) and pulling leaves or needles back over the body.”  Although females lay lots of eggs, Imperial moths are not common.  The moths are sedentary by day, blending into tree trunks and forest litter but are eaten by bats at night, and the caterpillars provide a tasty meal for birds, which find them as they feed by day on leaf surfaces, for mammals (including armadillos, which dig them out of their pupal cells), and for other insects.  Including parasitic flies.  Unlike some of their cousins, Imperial moths have no chemical defenses or stinging hairs, but young caterpillars, bearing long protuberances (scoli) on their thoraxes, wave their front ends back and forth to bluff predators https://bugguide.net/node/view/10760/bgimage.   

Thanks, Mary,

Kate Redmond, The BugLady

Bug of the Week archives:
http://uwm.edu/field-station/category/bug-of-the-week/

Bug o’the Week – Rosinweed Moth

Bug o’the Week
by Kate Redmond

Rosinweed Moth

Howdy, BugFans,

First off, today’s vocabulary word is “microlep” (short for “microlepidoptera”).  What’s a microlep?  The (somewhat squishy) term applies to moths with a wingspan under 20mm (about ¾”).  It’s not a taxonomic or a lifestyle designation – there are microleps across a bunch of different moth families, and they make their livings in a variety of ways – it’s strictly about size.

Rosinweed moths (Tebenna silphiella) (what a little gem!) are a not-well-studied species in a not-well-studied genus in a not-well-studied family, Choreutidae, the Metalmark Moths, a group that (of course) needs revision and that historically has been bounced around, taxonomically.  And, the website microleps.org tells us that “The large Tebenna spp., including T. silphiella, represent an array in which species delineations appear to be unresolved.”  Most family members have wingspans under a half-inch, but those wings may be decorated with spots made of silvery/metallic scales https://bugguide.net/node/view/1169370/bgpage, https://bugguide.net/node/view/1681270/bgimage.  Choreutis comes from a Greek word meaning “dancer” – the moths fly by day, and the “dancing” refers to the jerky movements they often make with their bodies and wings as they move around on flowers.  

Choreutid caterpillars skeletonize the undersides of leaves in groups, immediately after hatching, and solo, as they get older.  Many species spin a loose web over themselves, and their frass collects in this net (remember – they’re under the leaf).  About caterpillars in the related genus Brenthia (a mostly Asian and African genus), researcher Jadranka Rota says “Larvae of all four Brenthia species that I have observed chew a roughly circular ‘escape hatch’ – a wormhole – somewhere in their feeding shelter. When resting, they sit with their head next to the hole. If disturbed, larvae dash through the wormhole to the other side of the leaf…… After a little while, they wriggle through the opening backwards to their original position.”  Another researcher hypothesizes that the caterpillars receive sensory clues via the webbing. 

Some Metalmark moths have a Superpower – more about that in a sec.

As the name suggests, the host plant of Rosinweed moths is Rosinweed (Silphium integrifolium), a prairie plant with stiff, gritty leaves https://illinoiswildflowers.info/prairie/plantx/rosinweedx.htm.  They feed on leaves near the top of the plant; scroll down for a picture of caterpillars feeding https://mothphotographersgroup.msstate.edu/species.php?hodges=2642. 

Bugguide.net lists the range of Rosinweed moths as the prairies and meadows of the Central US – Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois, Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas, and Kentucky, and other sources add Colorado.  There are two generations per year. 

OK – the Superpower.

In many parts of the family’s worldwide range, their top predators are the jumping spiders that hang out on the leaves with them.  What’s a moth to do?  Answer – If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. 

Jumping spiders hone in on a wide variety of prey, large and small, and they’re not shy about eating other jumping spiders, no matter the size, so mimicking a jumping spider certainly isn’t a Get Out of Jail Free card.  But it turns out that the spots and stripes on the wings of many Metalmark moths resemble a jumping spider (if you squint), and the moth’s posture, displays, and movements reinforce that.  In experiments, Brentia moths survived being caged with jumping spiders more often than similarly-sized, non-Choreutid moths did (unless researchers painted over the eyespots on their wings).  Often, the jumping spiders (even with their great eyesight) would respond to the moth’s antics with the kinds of leg-waving territorial displays that they reserve for other jumping spiders of the same species.  If the moth was bigger than the spider, the spider may even have been intimidated by the moth. 

Here’s an American Brenthia, the Peacock Brenthia https://bugguide.net/node/view/1801949/bgimage and a video of a Metalmark moth in action – https://www.reddit.com/r/Awwducational/comments/ryq98f/metalmark_moths_have_evolved_eyespots_on_their/?rdt=48206.

Researchers also suspect that looking like a jumping spider discourages some of the spiders’ predators from going after the moths.  Some species hide by camouflage or by mimicking species that are aggressive or toxic.  Metalmark moths confuse the spider with an uncommon, “In your face” strategy called “predator mimicry,” but it turns out that jumping spider mimicry is also in the playbooks of a few small flies and planthoppers, which suggests that the spiders are driving the evolution of their prey.

For more information see https://askabiologist.asu.edu/plosable/prey-as-predator.

Kate Redmond, The BugLady

Bug of the Week archives:
http://uwm.edu/field-station/category/bug-of-the-week/

Bug o’the Week – Slices of Spring

Bug o’the Week
by Kate Redmond

Slices of Spring

Howdy, BugFans,

The BugLady and her camera have been out scouring the uplands and wetlands for insects that will sit still long enough to have their portrait made.  Many of today’s bugs have starred in their own BOTWs over the years, and you can find them by Googling “UWM Field Station followed by the name of the insect.  Her gut continues to tell her that there simply aren’t as many insects to point her camera at as there were a decade ago.

What did she find in April and May?

WOODLAND LUCY (Lucidota atra), aka the Black firefly (atra means black).  If a lightning bug doesn’t light, is it still a Lightning bug?  Yup.  Most lightning bugs flash their species-specific light signals at females by night, but some, like the Woodland Lucy, are day flyers (the BugLady starts seeing them in swamps in May, but she usually doesn’t see a light show by their nocturnal relatives until the very end of June).  It would be a waste of energy to try to produce a light that competes with the sun, so diurnal lightning bugs communicate via pheromones (perfumes).  But, all fireflies make light at some point in their lives, and always as a larva (and even the adult Woodland Lucy makes a weak light for a brief time after emerging as an adult).   

Who says “lightning bug” and who says “firefly?”  Lightning bug is heard most often in the South and Midwest, and firefly belongs to New England and the West (and Southeastern Wisconsin is close to the border of the two).  Someone did a study and hypothesized that people who live in wildfire country prefer firefly, and people who live in thunderstorm country say lightning beetle.  The BugLady likes the alternate theory – that you call them whatever your Grandmother called them.

DISONYCHA BEETLE – isn’t this a neat beetle!  The BugLady photographed another member of the genus years ago when she was photographing visitors to her pussy willow shrub.  It’s in the (huge) leaf beetle family Chrysomelidae, many of whose members are pretty specific about the host plants for their larvae.  This one is (probably) a member of the confusing Smartweed Disonycha bunch.  

GROUSE LOCUSTS are in the family Tetrigidae (the pygmy grasshoppers), and at a half-inch and less when full grown, pygmy they are!  The BugLady usually sees them in wetlands, and some are actually known to swim.  They feed on tiny diatoms and algae and aquatic vegetation at the water’s edge.

A CENTIPEDE works the boardwalk at Spruce Lake Bog in April.

GROUND BEETLE LARVA – Ground beetles (family Carabidae) are a bunch of mainly nocturnal, sometimes-sizeable, mostly predaceous beetles.  Some of the big ones have no-nonsense names like Fiery Searcher and Caterpillar Hunter, and although they are called Ground beetles, they may climb trees to find their prey.  They’re long-lived, spending a year or two as larvae and then two or three more as adults.  No – the BugLady was not inclined to pick this one up.   

The WHITE-STRIPED BLACK MOTH (Trichodezia albovittata) is a small (1” wingspan) day-flying moth that’s often mistaken for a butterfly.  It’s found in wetlands because its caterpillar’s food is Impatiens/Jewelweed/Touch-me-not.  Like other members of the moth family Geometridae, it has tympanal organs (ears) at the base of its abdomen so that it can hear the echolocation calls of bats.  Since it’s diurnal, its ears are superfluous, but it can hear ultrasound (which suggests to evolutionary biologists that its day-flying habit is a recent one). 

CHALK-FRONTED CORPORALS are one of our earliest dragonflies – the BugLady recalls seeing recently-emerged corporals by the hundreds over a dirt road on warm, spring days.

DADDY LONGLEGS (aka Harvestmen) are not true spiders, though they do have eight legs.  The best description that the BugLady has read is that lacking a sharp division between their two body parts (cephalothorax and abdomen), they look like Rice Krispies with legs.  This one is well-camouflaged on the fertile stalk of a cinnamon fern.

The BugLady may have to have this engraved on her gravestone (oh wait, she’s being scattered) – DADDY LONGLEGS DO NOT BITE PEOPLE!  Also, counter to both urban and rural legend, they are NOT the most venomous animal on earth!!!  The BugLady does not care what your cousin told you, or the person who claims to be allergic to their bite.  They have tiny jaws, and unlike the true spiders, they do not pierce their prey and then pump in chemicals from venom glands (no venom glands) (and they have no stinging apparatus).  They just sit there and chew off tiny (tiny) pieces.  Got it?

The BEAUTIFUL BEE FLY (Bombylius pulchellus) truly is (pulchellos means “little beauty”)!  This small fly (maybe ¼”) was photographed in a wetland in mid-May.  Bee fly larvae are parasitoids of a variety of insect eggs and larvae – this one targets the sweat bees, which are among our earliest pollinators (not to worry – the system is in balance).

CRANE FLY – there are a number of families of crane flies, plus some near-relatives, and they are often collectively called daddy longlegs (though they’re not spiders) and mosquito hawks and skeeter-eaters (though they don’t catch or eat mosquitoes).  What they do, is look like giant mosquitoes when they land on the other side of your window screen at night https://bugguide.net/node/view/2360312/bgimage, but they’re completely harmless.  The “crane” in crane fly reflects their long, long legs – they’re somewhat awkward flyers and even more awkward landers.  Like the Daddy longlegs, they’re reputedly extremely venomous (and now it’s time to introduce the third member of our “daddy longlegs trio,” the cellar spider.  Crane flies are thought to be venomous because they look like cellar spiders (https://bugguide.net/node/view/2170770/bgimage), but, alas, cellar spiders only have very weak venom). 

How do these things get started, anyway?

SOLDIER FLY – it’s always a little startling to come across a lime-green fly! 

This VIRGINIA CTENUCHA MOTH CATERPILLAR was photographed in April, but the BugLady has found them walking around on mild winter days.  The cute caterpillar will morph into a stunning moth https://bugguide.net/node/view/1036503/bgimage that looks butterfly-ish until it lands on a leaf and immediately crawls underneath.  Despite its name, it’s a moth with more northerly affiliations. 

The (great) Minnesota Seasons website lists three defense strategies:

  • Aposematism: The metallic blue color of the thorax and abdomen mimics wasps which may be noxious to predators.
  • Sound production: A specialized (tymbal), corrugated region on the third section of the thorax (metathorax) produces ultrasonic sounds which interfere with (“jam”) the sonar of moth-eating bats.
  • Pyrrolizidine alkaloid sequestration: Caterpillars acquire and retain naturally produced toxic chemicals (pyrrolizidine alkaloids) from the plants they eat.

RED-SPOTTED PURPLE CATERPILLARS are hard to distinguish from those of the very-closely-related Viceroy and White Admiral caterpillars, and their food plants overlap, too.  The caterpillars overwinter in a leaf that’s still attached to the tree, rolled up and fastened with silk. 

Red-spotted Purple?  The purple part https://bugguide.net/node/view/1791309/bgimage, and the red-spotted part https://bugguide.net/node/view/1881731/bgimage

HOBOMOK SKIPPERS (once called the Northern Golden Skipper) are an early butterfly, often decorating the wild geraniums that bloom by the bushel in May.  One source says that they are strong flyers that take off quickly when startled.  Amen!  They are a butterfly of woodland, wetland and grassland edges, where males perch in the sun and fly out to chase intruders.

“Hobomok” is a nod to an early Wampanoag chief.    

CRAB SPIDER on White trillium – as we all know, the BugLady has a thing for crab spiders because of their ability to hide in plain sight.  This one was photographed in early May. 

Go outside – Look for Bugs!

Kate Redmond, The BugLady

Bug of the Week archives:
http://uwm.edu/field-station/category/bug-of-the-week/

Bug o’the Week – Oblique-banded Leafroller Moth

Bug o’the Week
by Kate Redmond

Oblique-banded Leafroller Moth

Greetings, BugFans,

The venerable (circa 1903) moth book that the BugLady grew up with – The Moth Book by W. J. Holland – included pictures of a huge number of moth species, all with wings outstretched, in pinned position.  Great for seeing all of the markings – not so great for showing the unique shapes and postures of many moths https://bugguide.net/node/view/889584/bgimage  https://bugguide.net/node/view/1307815/bgimage  https://bugguide.net/node/view/259944      https://bugguide.net/node/view/973408   https://bugguide.net/node/view/11941/bgimage   https://bugguide.net/node/view/427321/bgpage (the Peterson field guide portrays them as they perch).  Holland’s picture of today’s moth was a little odd.

Oblique-banded Leafrollers (OBLRs) are in the family Tortricidae (accent on the first and third syllables), sometimes called the Tortricid/tortrix, leaf roller, and leaf tier moths.  It’s a large group (10,000 species worldwide and 1,400 north of the Rio Grande) of small (wingspans of ½” to 1 ¼”), drab, bell/arrowhead-shaped moths, and even smaller caterpillars that are often green with dark heads.  Some species are agricultural pests (spruce budworm and a variety of apple-lovers), and a few species are used as biological controls to deal with unwanted plants.  Caterpillars of some Tortricid species bore into plant materials, and others feed on the exterior (and these caterpillars come equipped with a structure called an anal fork that allows them to flip their frass (bug poop) away from their bodies, so it won’t lead parasites or predators to them).  Some are generalist feeders and some limit their diets.  A few make galls.

OBLRs (Choristoneura rosaceana), aka Rosaceous Leaf Rollers, are a native species that lives throughout most of the US and into southern Canada (and that we have accidentally exported to other parts of the globe).  They’re habitat generalists, found from wetlands to woodlands to old fields to orchards.  The caterpillars, which are said to be the most common tortricid in North America, are hard to tell from related caterpillars, and when asked how to distinguish the notoriously variable adults from their relatives, a commentator in bugguide.net said, “Today I was asked how to separate species that look similar to Choristoneura rosaceana and thought I’d share my response here since it is commonly collected and frequently misIDed. The short answer is assume everything is C. rosaceana unless you have reason to believe otherwise. The longer answer is below and basically outlines my thought process.” 

There are no picky eaters here!  OBLM caterpillars feed on more than 80 species of plants, most, but not all of them, woody.  They’re especially fond of plants in the rose family, like cherry, apple, pear, chokecherry, raspberry, and peach, but they also eat maple, sumac, birch, honeysuckle, viburnum, oak, ash, buckthorn, willow, aspen, basswood, elm, pine, and more.  OBLRs are eaten by birds and a number of invertebrate predators, including some ladybugs.  Leaf rolling, leaf tying, and gall making benefit caterpillars that have lots of predators.

Because of its connection with commercial fruits, this is one well-studied insect; although much that is known about them is based on laboratory observations.

Courtship is driven by hormones and is formulaic– she “calls,” he responds, they sit head-to-head for a while, and things progress.  If she’s not interested, she leaves.  She deposits masses of wax-covered eggs (200 to 900, said one source) on the upper surfaces of host plants, and when the caterpillars hatch https://bugguide.net/node/view/1185427/bgimage, many disperse by spinning silk and taking off, like spiders, casting their fates to the winds (https://uwm.edu/field-station/bug-of-the-week/spider-flight/) – they bet the farm on avoiding aerial predators and landing on a host plant.    

There are two generations of OBLRs in Wisconsin, which works out to three waves of caterpillars.  OBLRs overwinter as partially-grown caterpillars, and when they emerge, they skeletonize the undersides of very new leaves or feed in the buds.  When the leaves get big enough, caterpillars make leaf shelters lined with silk https://bugguide.net/node/view/1039803/bgimage and later pupate in them.  The first crop of adults appears in June, and their eventual offspring https://bugguide.net/node/view/2336932/bgimage eat leaves and the surface of fruit https://bugguide.net/node/view/546919/bgimage.  The next adults are seen in late summer, and it’s their caterpillars that overwinter, in a hibernaculum that they spin between folded leaves, in twig crotches, under bud scales, or in bark, emerging as buds start to swell.  Depending on what time of the year they’re feeding, they cause the fruit to be pitted or deformed, and they may introduce rot that isn’t obvious until after harvest.  Mature and almost mature caterpillars do the most damage. 

ADDENDUM: The BugLady just read an interesting article in the New York Times about how scientists are noticing that fewer moths come in to light traps (previously the gold standard for capturing and censusing moths).  Why?  Fewer moths overall?  Not always – hormone traps (used by farmers to estimate numbers of crop pests) attract lots of them. 

Once upon a time, a contemporary of Charles Darwin’s asked him why moths are attracted to light (a topic that has attracted, in turn, a lot of scientists).  Darwin replied that “maybe it’s because lights are quite new and moths haven’t quite figured it out yet…. But you might expect that over time they will stop doing this.”  He may have hit the nail on the head. 

Avalon Owens, an entomologist at Harvard, explains, using corn earworms as an example: “It might be, as Darwin suggested, that evolution has removed moths with an attraction to light from the gene pool, so that today’s corn earworm moth is no longer as drawn to light.

But another explanation for the decline in light trap effectiveness might be that it’s a consequence of the world surrounding those light traps growing much brighter. With streetlights and spotlights and everything else lighting up the night, moths may not be noticing the light traps as much as they notice other glowing things.” 

Light pollution affects a lot of us – migrating birds, hatchling sea turtles, some fish, nocturnal predators, tree frogs, Monarch butterflies, fireflies – and people who just want to see the stars.

Kate Redmond, The BugLady

Bug of the Week archives:
http://uwm.edu/field-station/category/bug-of-the-week/

Bug o’the Week – Bugs without Bios XIX

Bug o’the Week
by Kate Redmond

Bugs without Bios XIX

Howdy, BugFans,

Bugs without bios – those humble (but worthy) bugs about whom little information is readily available.  Today’s bugs check those boxes as species, but they have something in common – their lifestyles are similar to those of close relatives who have already starred in their own BOTW.

The BugLady found this PREDACEOUS DIVING BEETLE (Hydacticus aruspex) (probably) in shallow water that was so plant-choked that the beetle had trouble submerging.  Diving beetles are competent swimmers, tucking their two front pairs of legs close to their body and stroking with powerful back legs.  When they submerge, they carry a film of air with them to breathe, stored under the hard, outer wing covers (elytra).  They can fly, too, though they mostly take to the air at night.

As both larvae and adults, Predaceous diving beetles are aquatic and carnivorous, dining on fellow aquatic invertebrates.  Larvae (called water tigers) grab their meals with curved mouthparts and inject digestive juices that soften the innards, making them easy to sip out (generic water tiger – https://bugguide.net/node/view/49848/bgimage).  They eat lots of mosquito larvae.  Adults grab their prey and tear pieces off.  Not for the faint of heart.   

Hydacticus aruspex (no common name) is one of five genus members in North America and is found across the continent.  It comes in both a striped and a non-striped form https://bugguide.net/node/view/296320/bgimage.  It overwinters as an adult, under the ice, and romance blossoms in spring.  For more information about Predaceous diving beetles, see https://uwm.edu/field-station/bug-of-the-week/predaceous-diving-beetle-revisited/. 

These spectacular OBLIQUE-WINGED KATYDIDS (probably) were climbing around on Arrow Arum in a wetland that the BugLady frequents.  Katydids are famous singers whose ventriloquistic calls may be heard day and night (though older ears may strain to hear them – test your hearing here https://www.listeningtoinsects.com/oblong-winged-katydid).  They “sing” via “stridulation” – friction – in their case, by rubbing the rigid edge of one forewing against a comb-like “file” on the other (the soft, second set of wings is only for flying, and they do that well).  They hear with slit-like tympana on their front legs.  Most Katydids are vegetarians, but a few species are predaceous.

Oblong-winged Katydids (Amblycorypha oblongifolia) are “False katydids” (here’s a True katydid https://bugguide.net/node/view/2207342/bgimage) in the Round-headed katydid genus.  They are found in woods, shrubs, and edges throughout the eastern US, often in “damp-lands,” often on brambles, roses, and goldenrods.  The dark, mottled triangle on the top of the male’s thorax is called the “stridulatory field” – a rough area that is rubbed to produce sound.  Oblong-winged katydids have a large stridulatory field. 

Katydids, both in color and in texture, are remarkably camouflaged – except when they’re not.  Here’s an awesome color wheel of katydids https://entnemdept.ufl.edu/creatures/misc/amblycorypha_oblongifolia.htm. 

For more information about the large katydids (including the origin of their name), see https://uwm.edu/field-station/bug-of-the-week/katydid-rerun/.

The BugLady came across this cute little MOTH FLY (Clytocerus americanus) (probably) on a day that she couldn’t take an in-focus shot on a bet!  Fortunately, bugguide.net contributors did better https://bugguide.net/node/view/426325/bgimage, https://bugguide.net/node/view/695589/bgimage.  Despite their name, Moth flies are moths, not flies or weird hybrids.  They are tiny (maybe 1/8”) and hairy, and are weak fliers, and until she saw this one, the only Moth flies she had ever seen were indoors, in the bathroom (where they earn another of their names – “drain flies”).  Species that live outside are, like this one was, often found near wetlands. 

There are only one or two species in the genus Clytocerus in North America, and they have strongly-patterned wings and very hairy antennae.  Not much is known about their habits.  According to Wikipedia, adult Clytocerus americanus feed on “fungal mycelia and various organisms which inhabit wet to moist environments. Larvae are assumed to be detritivores.”

Find out more about moth flies here https://uwm.edu/field-station/bug-of-the-week/moth-fly/. 

MASON WASP – This is what happens when the BugLady buys garden stakes!  After various small, solitary wasps populate the empty interiors with eggs, the BugLady can’t possibly stick them into the ground! 

As their name suggests, female Mason wasps use mud to construct chambers in preexisting holes to house both their eggs and the cache of small invertebrates that their their eventual larvae will eat. 

The Canadian Mason Wasp (Symmorphus canadensis) suspends an egg from the chamber roof or wall by a thread and then adds 20 or more moth or leaf mining beetle larvae before partitioning it off with a wall of mud and working on the next cell https://bugguide.net/node/view/509856/bgimage.  She leaves a “vestibule” at the end of the tunnel/plant stake between the final chamber and the door plug. 

Heather Holm, in her sensational Wasps: Their Biology, Diversity, and Role and Beneficial Insects and Pollinators of Native Plants, discusses the hunting strategy of genus members: “Symmorphus wasps hunt leaf beetle larvae (Chrysomela); these beetles have glands in their abdominal segments and thorax that emit pungent defensive compounds.  These compounds are derived from the plants that the larvae consume. ….. In addition to using visual cues to find their prey, it is likely that Symmorphus wasps use olfactory means to find the beetle larvae.  Symmorphus males have been observed lunging at Chrysomela larvae, mistaking the larvae for adult females [female mason wasps] that, after capturing and handling prey, smell of the offensive compounds.

Here are two previous BOTWs about mason wasps, each a different genus than the Canadian Mason wasp: https://uwm.edu/field-station/bug-of-the-week/bramble-mason-wasp/ and https://uwm.edu/field-station/bug-of-the-week/four-toothed-mason-wasp/.    

Kate Redmond, The BugLady

Bug of the Week archives:
http://uwm.edu/field-station/category/bug-of-the-week/

Bug o’the Week – Tobacco Budworm

Bug o’the Week
by Kate Redmond

Tobacco Budworm

Greetings, BugFans,

The BugLady photographed this handsome moth on her back porch rail last summer, and she was temporarily mystified when she identified it as a Tobacco budworm moth, because the nearest tobacco farm is probably more than 100 miles west of her.  Then she found an alternative common name – the Geranium budworm – and since she is the Geranium Queen, it made more sense (and it explained the frass on the bookshelves).

There are lots of moths that aren’t big enough or bad enough or beautiful enough to have been studied enough.  This isn’t one of them.  It gets University Extension Agents riled up throughout tobacco and cotton-growing areas in the southern half of its range.

Tobacco budworms (Chloridea virescens) (before 2013 they were Heliothis virescens) are native moths in the Owlet moth family Noctuidae.  They’re considered an eastern and southwestern species, but they’ve been spotted in Canada, across the vast majority of the lower 48 plus the Caribbean, and sporadically south of the Rio Grande.  They produce five or six broods annually in the South, but generally just one or two in the North, and they are too tender to overwinter here.  Moths seen in the northern parts of the US in the second half of summer may have overwintered in a greenhouse or a sheltered patio or in a potted plant that was brought inside in fall, or they may have drifted north from the southern part of their range. 

Adults have a wingspread of about one-to one-and-a-half inches and are somewhat variable in color.  Virescens means “being or becoming green” and while some are greenish https://bugguide.net/node/view/662023/bgimage, many Tobacco budworm moths are tan https://bugguide.net/node/view/1440535/bgimage.  The caterpillars’ color is also variable and, as David Wagner says in Caterpillars of Eastern North America, “Somehow the larvae end up matching the color of their foodplant.  The caterpillars found on red geraniums are shades of pink, those on ground cherry yellow, and so on.”  https://bugguide.net/node/view/1735907/bgimage (pink flowers make pink frass https://bugguide.net/node/view/32268/bgimage), https://bugguide.net/node/view/899588/bgimage, https://bugguide.net/node/view/36749/bgimage.   

The first generation of larvae chew deeply into buds (scroll down https://extension.umn.edu/yard-and-garden-insects/tobacco-budworms) and the later broods feed on the flowers and seeds.  They prefer the reproductive tissues, but they’ll also eat leaves, leaf petioles and even stems, and the later generations cause the most damage to plants.  No picky eaters here – these are generalist feeders!  They especially like tobacco and cotton, but they eat other agricultural crops like soybeans, flax, squash, tomato, peanuts, peppers, lettuce, and alfalfa and other clovers,.  Garden flowers like roses, geraniums, morning glory, petunias, nicotiana, chrysanthemums, marigolds, snapdragons, zinnias, and verbenas are on the menu, and, as the bulletins say, so are “weeds” like beardtongue, cranesbill/wild geranium, dock, lupine, passion flower, ground cherry, and more (“weeds” – so judgy).  They’re not considered a pest here in God’s Country.     

They are eaten by a variety of insects and spiders, but where some of their predators are concerned, the caterpillars seem to have Super Powers.  According to Wikipedia, if a parasitic wasp named Cardiochiles nigripes approaches a caterpillar with the intention of laying an egg on it, a fluid oozes from the caterpillar’s pores “that causes C. nigriceps to become agitated and groom themselves, allowing the budworm to escape. C. nigriceps also avoid budworms painted with this exudate. It is hypothesized that this exudate may function by overloading the wasp’s sensory receptors.”  The tachinid fly Winthemia rufopicta may be successful at laying eggs on the exterior of a tobacco budworm caterpillar, “but upon hatching and trying to penetrate its host, the caterpillars react by biting, crushing, puncturing, or trying to eat the parasitoid eggs.  This kills off many of the maggots” (Wikipedia).  Plus (says Wagner) “My colleague Scott Smedley and his students recently discovered that the caterpillars manage to transfer the glandular defensive secretions of their foodplants onto their own setae [hairs], and in doing so accrue chemical protection from ants and other natural enemies.”

They court with pheromones – she releases chemicals (perfumes) into the air, but she will not produce them unless she has been in contact with a potential host plant, and a place to lay her eggs is assured.  He reads her signals with receptors on his antennae and responds, and when she picks up his signal, she stops producing hers.  Males court with pheromones produced by glands in structures called hair pencils, which pop out of their abdomen.  The chemicals he produces are “twofers” – they send a “back-off” message to other males, and a “come hither” message to females.  If she approves of his scent, it’s “game on.”  The odor has both a stimulating and tranquilizing effect on her. 

She lays her eggs https://bugguide.net/node/view/699644/bgimage (usually 300 to 500 of them, but as many as 1,500) on buds, blossoms and leaves in the upper parts of plants.  Research suggests that she picks as a host the same species of plant that she grew up on.  The larvae hatch and, if they’re not already there, head for the tips of the plant.  Larvae grow faster at warmer temperatures, and when they are mature, they pupate a few inches under the soil https://bugguide.net/node/view/587565/bgimage. 

Two big photo references – one to Wisconsin moths https://www.butterflyidentification.org/moths-by-state-listing.php?reach=Wisconsin, and the other a giant collection of caterpillar pictures by wildlife photographer Tom Murray (Wisconsin shares many moth species with New York) https://pbase.com/tmurray74/moth_caterpillars.

Kate Redmond, The BugLady

Bug of the Week archives:
http://uwm.edu/field-station/category/bug-of-the-week/

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