One of the BugLady’s inquilines is an Eastern parson spider. An inquiline (from the Latin inquilinus meaning “lodger” or “tenant”) is an animal that lives in the dwelling of another animal. Like the Tree frog that overwintered with the BugLady last year, the Parson spider is finding enough to eat.
Some definitions of inquiline allow for the possibility that the “roomer” might morph into an eater or an eat-ee of the host, but that would nudge it into a different ecological category. The relationship of the host to its inquiline guest is defined as a “commensal” one – positive for the guest; neutral for the host(ess).
Eastern parson spiders (Herpyllusecclesiasticus) (great scientific name!) get their name from the white markings on the top of the abdomen that are reminiscent of the white cravats of 19th century preachers. They’re in the ground spider family Gnaphosidae. There are a dozen species in the genus Herpyllus in North America, and most can’t be identified to species with photos. The Western parson spider (H. propinquus – another great name) (the BugLady’s Dad used to introduce juicy vocabulary words when she was a kid, and “propinquity” was one of them, along with “prestidigitation,” “prevarication,” and, of course, “procrastination”) is nearly identical to the Eastern parson spider, mostly separated by range. Eastern parson spiders occur mainly east of the Rockies, from Canada into Mexico.
These small, hairy spiders live on the ground under rocks, logs, and other forest debris, and on tree trunks, but it’s not uncommon for them to get into mailboxes, where they might be collected with the day’s mail, or to come indoors in fall, where adults may overwinter (they don’t breed indoors).
Females are about 3/8” long, and males are about ¼”, and they are speedy spiders that often run in a zigzag line, so the BugLady photographed her spider at the bottom of her “Invertebrate-Catch-and-Release Jar,” a repurposed parmesan cheese shaker. Contributors to bugguide.net have done better – here’s a good shot https://bugguide.net/node/view/1399774/bgimage and a glamour shot https://bugguide.net/node/view/1635888/bgimage.
Eastern parson spiders don’t spin trap webs, they’re active, nocturnal/crepuscular hunters that search for their prey – small invertebrates, including other spiders – on foot. This one has subdued a moth that was bigger than it was https://bugguide.net/node/view/1002561/bgimage. They do use silk for other purposes – they rest in silk retreats under boards, bark, rocks, etc. in the daytime, young spiders that stay outside during winter make a silk cocoon under loose tree bark, and females enclose their eggs in a silken sac in summer before hiding it (and they stay around to protect it). Not a lot is known about their natural history, but the fact that adult parson spiders can be found in any season suggests that they may have a two-year life cycle.
Along with the usual “Scare sites” that pop up when you Google animals (“Eastern parson spider bite”/“Eastern parson spider poisonous”), there’s some discussion about whether the Parson spider’s bite is problematic for humans, beyond the rare individual who might be allergic. The conclusion seems to be that the bite is painful and may produce some temporary inflammation, but it’s not a medical emergency, and the odds are good that you’ll never be bitten by one because spiders would rather flee than fight. As one author points out, spider bites are very rare occurrences and misinformation is rampant.
It’s that time of year again – time to put our feet up, sip adult beverages by the light of the tree, hum “The Twelve Bugs Days of Christmas,” and dream of spring (the days are getting longer, you know). Here are a Baker’s Dozen from 2025.
AMERICAN RUBYSPOT – One of the lovely River damsels. Males are beautiful (https://bugguide.net/node/view/991176/bgimage) but this female is pretty spectacular in her own right. The BugLady wishes she knew how she got that halo effect (probably a random sparkle off the Milwaukee River beyond) – she d employ it in more pictures.
DOGBANE LEAF BEETLES are spectacular green beetles (https://bugguide.net/node/view/6438/bgimage) – except when they aren’t. The beetle’s color and incandescence are the result of the play of light on exceedingly small, tilted plates that overlay its pigment layer. As you walk around it, the light bouncing off both the pigment and the plates causes the colors to change with your angle (and sometimes bring up Christmas colors). Life is Physics. Check the bugguide.net image gallery for more https://bugguide.net/node/view/461/bgimage.
OBLONG-WINGED KATYDID – A splendid katydid, splendidly in tune with its surroundings!
BEE FLY – This Bee fly deposits her eggs in the egg tunnels of solitary wasps that live in sandy/bare areas, though “deposit” doesn’t quite describe the process. She hovers above the tunnel of a wasp like this one https://bugguide.net/node/view/1455229/bgimage and lobs an egg down into the opening. But – there’s a secret sauce. She dips her rear end into the sand in order to take up some sand grains, which she will store in a special receptacle. As an egg emerges, it gets a gritty coating that may help camouflage it and may also make it heavier so that her” throw” will be more accurate.
BUMBLE BEE – the BugLady has pictures of a number of insects nectaring on the spiny center of Purple coneflower (Echinacea sp.), and it always looks like an iffy proposition. The name “Echinacea” comes from the Greek word for hedgehog.
CRAB SPIDER – Crab spiders like orchids (this one is on a Small Yellow Lady’s Slipper)! They don’t spin trap webs, and orchids give them a nice platform on which to wait for pollinators (though some might have a long wait because not all orchids are pollinated by insects). The BugLady has a color slide of a Bog candle orchid with a white crab spider fitting neatly onto a horizontal flower. Just as there is an orchid-mimic mantis, there’s an Orchid mimic crab spider https://www.notesfromtheroad.com/roam/flower-crab-spider.html.
TUFTED BIRD LIME/BIRD-DROPPING MOTHS look marbled to the BugLady. Jim Sogarrd, author of Moths and Caterpillars of the North Woods, tell a story about attempting to collect a bird-dropping moth from the side of a building, only to discover that it actually was a bird dropping.
HACKBERRY EMPEROR BUTTERFLIES – Some kinds of caterpillars feed on a variety of plants, but Hackberry Emperor caterpillars eat only one thing and so can live only where Hackberry trees grow – no hackberry; no Emperor https://bugguide.net/node/view/2116852/bgimage. This one was posing under the roof overhang of the Barn, at Riveredge. Adults rarely feed on flowers, preferring tree sap, rotting fruit, carrion, and dung, and they collect minerals from damp/muddy soil with their proboscis their top side is handsome, too) https://bugguide.net/node/view/1450763/bgimage. They’re not pollinators – when they do visit flowers, they don’t touch down with their feet, and they avoid putting their antennae on the flower, only extending their proboscis into the flower. and so not picking up or spreading pollen.
JUMPING SPIDER – even people who don’t like spiders like Jumping spiders, and some keep them as pets (this one looks like the Bold jumper, Phidippus audax).
BLUE DASHER – When the BugLady was a kid, Angie the Christmas Tree Angel (those BugFans who are old enough can hum a few bars here) used to smile benignly from the top of the tree. That was before the BugLady knew about dragonflies. This guy makes an excellent substitute for Angie or for the Partridge in the Pear Tree.
May your days be merry and bright,eber, they are “active hunters at night. They sometimes run with groups of carpenter ants (Camponotus species)………” They spin their tube-shaped retreats where ants can be found.
In mid-summer, BugFan Dave shared these dynamite pictures of a pretty spiffy little spider that the BugLady has never seen – the (unhyphenated) Redspotted antmimic spider (Castianeiradescripta). Thanks, Dave!
Antmimic spiders used to be in the “catchall” Sac spider family Clubionidae, but now they’re found in the family Corinnidae, the Corinnid sac spiders. Antmimic spiders don’t spin trap webs – they pursue their prey on foot – but they do use silk to encase their eggs and to spin retreats in sheltered places. They tend to be drab, fast-moving spiders.
REDSPOTTED ANTMIMICS can be found in forests, grasslands, and suburbs, on the ground, on sandy shores, and on low vegetation, and under logs and leaf litter, (and sometimes in buildings) across our northern regions and in an odd, checkerboard distribution south of Canada Species Castianeira descripta – Redspotted Antmimic – BugGuide.Net. Considering their size and their habitat preferences, they’re probably found in a bunch of the in-between spaces, too.
The ant-mimic thing may be a “twofer.” Because they look (and behave) like ants, some predators may give them a pass – ants, armed with jaws at one end and a stinger at the other end that may be fortified with formic acid), are not predator-friendly. In addition, the disguise may allow them to get closer to their prey (aggressive mimicry). According to the “Spiderzrule” website, “These spiders walk about slowly the way ants do and then only move fast when disturbed. Castianeira descripta, the red spotted ant mimic spider only walks with six legs, like an ant. As they walk, their front two legs are raised in the air and quiver quickly up and down like antennae. They also quiver them briefly after they stop walking. They do this to emulate ant antennae and spiders that imitate ant antennae frequently have conspicuous front legs.” In addition, the pale/translucent front legs may mimic wasp wings.
Though they don’t make trap webs, females tend to be relative homebodies, and wandering males must seek them out. Females use saliva to attach disc-like egg sacs to rocks or debris, and the spiderlings hatch in spring. One source said that the female protects the egg sac.
Besides ants, Redspotted antmimics eat tiny invertebrates like mites and aphids that they find on or near the ground. According to Weber, they are “active hunters at night. They sometimes run with groups of carpenter ants (Camponotus species)………” They spin their tube-shaped retreats where ants can be found.
It’s the start of December – and of meteorological winter – and it’s cold out, and the BugLady is still wondering what, exactly, happened to August. Here’s a little slice of August, from 15 years ago.
The BugLady’s advice for the day is: Find yourselves a big clump of goldenrod and start looking. Bring your camera. Bring a lawn chair. Bring Eaton & Kaufman’s Field Guide to Insects of North America and The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Insects and Spiders by Lorus and Marjory Milne so you can find out what you’re looking at. Bring Donald W. Stokes’ excellent A Guide to Observing Insect Lives so you can find out what they’re doing there. You have time – one inscrutable species of goldenrod follows the next, from mid-August through the end of September (botanist Asa Gray once said that the 12 pages devoted to goldenrod taxonomy were the most boring in his book). Each critter has its own story, and it is in understanding the small stories that we start to get a handle on the big picture.
The BugLady enjoys the challenge of photographing these jumpy beauties – standing out in the field on a hot, breezy day, sweat trickling down her back, hoping for that Worried about pain? The BugLady has been photographing insects for 35 years, and she really, really gets in bugs’ faces, but she has never been bitten or stung in the process (well, except for some peripheral ants, but ants have been lying in wait for the BugLady all of her life).
Worried about allergies? The pollen of goldenrod is large and is not spread through the air, but its showy flowers take the rap for the very airborne pollen produced by inconspicuous, green ragweed flowers.
What will you see?
HONEYBEES who, if they start the day on a yellow flower, continue to visit yellow flowers (a phenomenon called flower constancy);
Worker BUMBLE BEES who can “buzz pollinate” some flowers – set up a vibration that loosens the pollen so they can collect it and carry it to an underground nest to nourish their queen and siblings – with no inkling that when goldenrods bloom, bumblebee days are almost over;
PENNSYLVANIA LEATHERWING (Soldier) beetles, seldom alone, who visit the flower tops to feed and frolic (count the antennae) and who discourage predators with poisonous chemicals that drip from the bases of their legs;
SOLITARY WASPS catching a light snack of pollen or nectar for themselves while hoping to catch a fellow arthropod to provision their offspring’s egg chamber;
BUTTERFLIES, the most graceful among us, who surround us with magic;
LADYBIRD BEETLES grazing on herds of aphids;
AMBUSH BUG – Insects that are sitting way too still, who may still be in the clutches of a well-camouflaged predator like the ambush bug (here with a Syrphid fly), who grabs and immobilizes them, injects a meat tenderizer, slurps out their innards, and discards the empties;
MOTHS – small, amorous, plain and fancy;
SPIDERS, who catch their prey using tools (an orb-weaver’s web) or ambush (jumping spiders);
BLISTER BEETLES, whose velvety, black coat contains an itch-and-lump-producing chemical that will bug you for a week. Like the Pennsylvania, they are August specialties;
SYRPHID (HOVER, FLOWER) FLIES that come in sizes so small that their flight doesn’t even rustle the pollen grains;
GRASSHOPPERS AND KATYDIDS, who see us coming and launch themselves into the air with a thrust of legs and wings;
TACHINID FLIES, they of the bristly butts, who lay their eggs on flowers so that their young can climb aboard an unwary insect and eat it from the inside, out.
TIPHIID WASPS, whose larvae prey on soil-dwelling larvae of some scarab beetles like June beetles. The female doesn’t bring food to her egg; she brings her egg to food. When the female wasp locates a grub in the ground), she lays an egg on/near it
They’re all there, and more. Pollinators and predators. The drama of life and death playing out hundreds of times against the buttery backdrop of goldenrod, whose Ojibwe name means “sun medicine.”
In honor of Halloween, we’re ending the month with a spider. A very cool little spider with a big story.
The Dewdrop spider Argyrodes elevatus (Argyrodes means “silver-like), in the Cobweb/Comb-footed/Tangle-web spider family Theridiidae, doesn’t live around here, though other genera of Dewdrop spiders do, like https://bugguide.net/node/view/940747/bgimage and the awesome lizard spider https://bugguide.net/node/view/664010/bgimage. Theridiids are found in North America, indoors and out, in an almost infinite variety of habitats, from border to border and from sea to shining sea (and around the world). Thanks, as always, to BugFan Tom for sharing his pictures.
Argyrodes spiders are also called Robber spiders (more about that in a sec), and there are three genus members in the US, and more elsewhere. Argyrodes elevates is found in California and in much of a swath of Southern/mid-Southern states from Texas to Ohio to Delaware, the Carolinas, and Florida. Their silvery abdomens give them their “dewdrop” name, and they’re seriously small – females are a shade smaller than ¼ inch, and males are smaller still.
Dewdrop spiders are inquilines – animals that exploit the living space of other animals (sometimes passively and sometimes impactfully). These tiny spiders can and do spin their own silk, but they prefer to live at the outskirts of larger spiders’ webs. A host’s web may contain a lot of them – so small that she may not even notice them. For scale, here’s one in a web with another spider and a partly-wrapped, inch-long green June beetle https://bugguide.net/node/view/316493/bgimage.
When a male goes a’courtin,’ possibly attracted by a female’s pheromones, he arrives bearing a gift – prey wrapped in silk – and he doesn’t approach closely until she has accepted it. Giving nuptial gifts is uncommon in spiders. He also vibrates the web to identify himself, spider love being a chancy thing. A day after she mates (an act that, contrary to the brief encounters of other spiders, may take two to eight hours, during which she’ll eat his gift), the female will tuck one or two egg sacs onto threads at the periphery of her host’s web. Although she continues to live on the web, her egg sacs are on their own.
The big story about Dewdrop spiders is how they get their food. They’re “kleptoparasites” (triple word score) – animals that rob food from other animals. They eat wrapped prey that the host spider has stored in the web (and they can tackle wrapped prey that’s quite a bit larger than they are if the host spider has already injected tenderizing enzymes), freshly caught prey that the host hasn’t detected yet, the host spider’s egg sacs, the host’s protein-rich silk web (especially when prey is scarce), and sometimes, the host spider herself, if there are a large number of “guests” to gang up on her (Tom has observed Dewdrop spiders feeding on Gastracantha spiders https://bugguide.net/node/view/129627 in his yard). Theridiids aren’t the only spider family that has food robbers, but they are the family with the most kleptoparasitic species.
They stay hidden, and they may alter parts of their host’s web so they can remove prey without causing the telltale vibrations that might alert the bigger spider. They’re very good at it – one study assigned them a 67% success rate – and they can liberate a bit of their host’s food in as little as 12 seconds.
To support their lifestyle, Dewdrop spidershave developed some interesting behaviors. Here are some highlights from a paper called “Notes on the behavior of the kleptoparasitic spider Argyrodes Elevatus (Yheridiidae, Araneae)” by Marco Cesar Silveira and Hilton F. Japyassú (https://pepsic.bvsalud.org/scielo.php?script=sci_arttext&pid=S1517-28052012000100007).
A Dewdrop spider will take advantage when the host’s attention is diverted, grabbing a wrapped insect while she’s busy subduing a new prey item.
Sometimes, briefly, a Dewdrop spider and its host may share a meal, until the host chases it away. If the host is distracted, the Dewdrop spider will make off with the partially-eaten prey.
A Dewdrop spider alters the host’s web by replacing parts of the original web with finer threads so that the host can’t detect its vibrations, but it can detect the host’s movements. It also minimizes the signals it sends by moving very slowly.
During a heist, the Dewdrop spider spins silk that secures the prey to itself, cuts the bits of the host’s web that are attached to the prey, and then escapes to the edge of the web along a dragline that it laid down.
Host spiders may catch on and search for missing prey – and may chase the thief. The Dewdrop spider uses a dragline to get away.
When the host spider is active, the Dewdrop spider stays still, and vice versa. If the host spider is diurnal, the Dewdrop spider becomes nocturnal.
When a Dewdrop spider returns to the edge of the web after a successful raid, it will spin a mini “web within the web,” attaching the prey preparatory to eating it. Before it digs in, it tests the waters by shaking the web to make sure the larger spider can’t detect it.
In his bugeric blog, entomologist Eric Eaton writes that a study of Nephila spiders showed that host spiders don’t gain as much weight as those whose webs have no Dewdrop spiders, and that they relocate their webs more frequently.
Ain’t Nature Grand!
No BOTW next week – the BugLady is taking time off to get yet another body part replaced.
The BugLady spends the spring and summer combing natural areas for bugs and flowers and other stuff to photograph, but in fall, she sits on a 10-foot-tall tower, counting migrating raptors. As a result, her meanderings have mostly been confined to Forest Beach Migratory Preserve since September 1st. As the poet Stephen Vincent Benét once wrote (not about insects, but it could have been), “This is the last, this is the last, Hurry, hurry, this is the last,..” With some recent chilly nights and cool days, the Bug Season is winding down, poised for the first frost, but tree crickets and grasshoppers still sing on the prairie, and the late season flies, bees, butterflies, and dragonflies are afoot. Here are some September and early October bugs.
AUTUMN MEADOWHAWK – Were there dragonflies? Indeed, there were! The last of the migrating darners and saddlebags passed the tower during a spell of Florida weather in September. Starting in early July, six species of meadowhawks occupy the second half of the dragonfly season, but they drop out, one by one until, in early October, only the White-faced and the Autumn (formerly Yellow-legged) meadowhawks remain.
STRIPED SADDLEBAGS – And there was one very special dragonfly. Striped Saddlebags live south – way south. About their range, bugguide says, “Normal range from Northern Argentina to northern Mexico with regular movement into Arizona and Texas and more rare movement north and east as far as MN, WI, MI in the US and NS in Canada.” So it’s pretty exciting to find one!
The WESTERN CONIFER SEED BUG is a large (¾”) and dapper member of the Leaf-footed bug family (Coreidae). People mistake it for the invasive Brown marmorated stink bug https://bugguide.net/node/view/2494360/bgimage, but it’s slimmer than the chunky stink bug. WCSBs are typically found on conifers – when they’re not gracing the BugLady’s porch rail or trying to get into the house in fall (according to the Mass Audubon website, “They can also be easily captured and returned to the outdoors—bluebirds love them! There is no need to resort to insecticides. Chemicals are dangerous—Western Conifer Seed Bugs are not.” They don’t eat your furniture or house plants, but they do suck sap from and damage conifer cones, seeds, twigs, and sometimes needles. Originally a resident of the Pacific Coast, they have moved east (and have been exported (accidentally) to Europe). If your goal is natural forest regeneration, WCSBs are unwelcome guests. They may deploy a smelly chemical when alarmed.
MONARCHS – There’s a time, as the Blazing star (Liatris) is fading and before the New England aster starts up, when the prairie is yellow, and goldenrod nectar fuels migrating Gen 5 Monarchs on their journey south.
MOURNING CLOAK – The migratory/Super generation of Monarchs lives a long time – emerging here in late August, overwintering in the mountains west of Mexico City, and getting at least part of the way back to Wisconsin in spring. Mourning Cloaks live even longer. A graph at the wisconsinbutterflies.com website shows that sightings start in early March and run through the start of November, but unlike other species that produce several generations to span each season, there’s only one generation of Mourning Cloaks per year.
The Mourning Cloaks of spring have overwintered as adults, and as their caterpillar host plants (mainly willow, elm and birch) green up, they feed, breed, lay eggs, and die. Their eggs hatch and their caterpillars feed and pupate, and the butterflies emerge around the summer solstice. They feed for a while and then tuck themselves into a sheltered place to aestivate (become dormant) through the heat of summer. Yes – they start flying before the parade of spring flowers has begun, and yes, the next generation sleeps through the flowers of summer, but Mourning Cloaks are mostly indifferent to flowers. They get minerals from mud; they feed at sap drips (they’re often seen in the sugar bush in early spring, but they can become dormant again if winter revisits); they like rotting fruit, dung, and the honeydew produced by aphids, and they check the feeding holes created by Sapsuckers. By the time they lay eggs the next spring, they’re about 11 months old.
FIERY SKIPPER – Good things come in small packages – this dynamite little butterfly is about an inch long, with an inch-and-a-half wingspread. Fiery Skippers are a mainly-Southern species that filters north into Wisconsin by mid-summer – a long haul on those short wings.
LARGE MILKWEED BUGS (these are nymphs) come in Large, Small, and False. They’re in the Seed bug family Lygaeidae; they make their living by inserting their beak into the seeds within a milkweed pod, pumping saliva in to soften them, and sucking out the juices. They’re very social and don’t mind sharing a good food source, and it’s possible that adults send out some kind of chemical signal to attract other adults. Adult Large milkweed bugs can survive on non-milkweed seeds, but their nymphs can’t. They aren’t considered a pest unless you’re growing milkweed for seed, and they make a spectacular splash of aposematic/warning color https://bugguide.net/node/view/2440573/bgimage.
Birds migrate, Monarchs and Common Green Darner dragonflies migrate, and so do Large milkweed bugs! It’s too cold here in God’s Country for them to overwinter in any form, so they repopulate the state in spring, after the milkweed is up. As with some birds, northern populations are long-distance migrants (and have longer wings to prove it) and southern populations don’t stray far from home.
A BUMBLE BEE busy collecting pollen for a brood that will not survive the winter.
The FALSE MILKWEED BUG looks like a Small milkweed bug (https://bugguide.net/node/view/2361061), and it’s even in the same genus, but it’s not sitting on milkweed. The BugLady usually finds them excavating the seeds of Ox-eye sunflower, aka the False sunflower. One note at bugguide.net says that if they checked their collection of Small milkweed bug pictures, they’d probably find a bunch of misidentified False milkweed bugs. Nice video of False milkweed bugs multi-tasking at the original BOTW, here https://bugoftheweek.com/blog/2021/7/16/false-milkweed-bug-aka-false-sunflower-bug-lygaeus-turcicus. Their doppelgangers are poisonous/distasteful due to the toxic milkweed sap they ingest. False milkweed bugs are adorned in aposematic coloration, but as far as the BugLady knows, they are not poisonous/distasteful. Are they cashing in on predators’ predisposition to avoid red/orange and black?
ANT FLIGHT – A hatch of royal ants emerged from their digs in the pressure-treated wood at the edge of the hawk tower’s deck (not reassuring). The royal dance attracted to the deck three tree frogs that usually live around the base of the tower and perch on prairie flowers.
This FORK-TAILED BUSH KATYDID joined the BugLady on the tower and lingered for a portrait. The large curved structure, aft, is her ovipositor (the male has the “forked tail”). She inserts her eggs into a leaf edge, between the upper and lower surface of the leaf, or lays them on twigs or leaves. And there’s nothing out on the prairie that’s cuter than her jaunty, little nymph https://bugguide.net/node/view/693504/bgimag, https://bugguide.net/node/view/2143463/bgimage. The BugLady is far more likely to see a Fork-tailed bush katydid than to hear one – as this site says, “Pffftt!” That’s all it is. There can be a lengthy pause between songs” https://www.listeningtoinsects.com/fork-tailed-bush-katydid.
BLACK AND YELLOW ARGIOPES, like some of the other orbweavers, get pretty hefty by the end of summer, alarming some folks. “Where did those huge spiders come from?” they ask. Answer – they’ve been here all along. They were smaller than the brightly-colored heads of push pins when they emerged from their egg sac in spring, and they’ve been eating ever since.
This TREEHOPPER’s thorn disguise would be more effective if it were sitting in vegetation. Just sayin’.
BUCKEYE BUTTERFLY – Buckeye caterpillars https://bugguide.net/node/view/1737799/bgimage pick up a group of chemicals called iridoid glycosides from their foodplants. These chemicals stimulate their appetites so they eat and grow fast, but have the opposite effect on their predators, stunting their growth.
Buckeyes are migratory, too, moving along coastlines and rivers, flying to the Deep South with a tailwind in fall and returning to us (a few generations later) in spring, with males arriving first.
Fun Fact about Buckeyes: flowers may change in appearance after being pollinated – maybe a clue as small as a localized color change. Researcher Martha R. Weiss did an experiment that demonstrated that a wide variety of wasp, bee, fly, and butterfly pollinators (including Buckeyes) can discriminate between “pre-change” and “post-change” flowers, and so can see which flowers will be more rewarding to visit – a win for both flowers and butterflies.
Bonus points if you know where the Benét quote came from.
The genus Micrathena (the spiny orbweavers) includes about 100 species of woodland spiders, mostly of the New World tropics. Females spin classic, vertical, disc-shaped trap webs and rest on them. The closely-placed (“tightly coiled”) strands of their webs tell us that they are after small prey like tiny moths, gnats, and mosquitoes. One source calls them “tiny, ornate exterminators.” The female consumes the (protein-rich) circular portion of her web at the end of each day and rebuilds on the original framework the next morning. One author postulates that the genus name comes from the fact that the goddess Athena was skilled at spinning and weaving.
There are four species of Micrathena north of the Rio Grande, all of them pointy, which is thought to be a defense against predators. One author described feeling a “deer fly” on his neck and slapping it – hard. It turned out to be a Spined Micrathena, and the force of the swat caused the spines to puncture his skin.
The SPINED/SPINY MICRATHENA/CASTLEBACK ORBWEAVER/SPINY-BELLIED ORBWEAVER (Micrathena gracilis) is found from the Atlantic to the Great Plains, including southern Canada and into Central America. They live in woods, especially oak-hickory woods, and most especially woods near water. They spin webs in open places in those woods and are famous for throwing a long dragline (escape line) from their webs across trails, to the annoyance of hikers.
The spiders are small, and so are their webs – they range from three to almost eight inches in diameter and are suspended four to seven feet above the ground in the shade https://bugguide.net/node/view/65966/bgimage. Webs are generally vertical but could be tilted by 45 degrees. Despite the fact that she will reuse the old framework when she spins her daily web, these spiders are known to wander and will move to a different site every six or seven days.
Females hang “belly up” from the center of the web, camouflaged from both above and below (predators from above see the dark ventral side against the ground, and predators from below see the lighter dorsal side against a dappled sky), monitoring the vibrations of the strands. The Arkansas Arthropod Museum’s article on the Spined Micrathena describes her actions as “slow and clumsy” when an insect hits the web and says that many insects escape. Most orbweavers wrap and incapacitate their prey before biting them and injecting the meat tenderizer, but Micrathenas will bite first and then wrap https://bugguide.net/node/view/716837/bgimage.
Males spin webs as young spiders, but not after they mature – then they hang out near a female’s web, waiting to make their move. Males spin “courting threads” and woo her from there, treading carefully to avoid being eaten in the process (but if they are, their protein will contribute to the development of their eggs). Females create a fluffy egg sac and attach it to nearby vegetation before they die, and the spiderlings exit the egg sac in spring.
There’s a spider called the Labyrinth/Colonial orbweaver (Metepeira incrassata) that lives in multigenerational colonies with its own kin (hundreds and even thousands of individuals) and tolerates other species of spiders on their communal webs. The Spined Micrathena is one of the species that coexists on the borders.
FUN FACT ABOUT THE SPINED MICRATHENA: Do spiders make noise? Not many spiders do, but the Spined Micrathena is one of them! Spiders have respiration organs called book lungs, and the covers of the book lungs are located on the spider’s undercarriage, just south of where the spider’s front section (the cephalothorax) meets its abdomen. When it’s disturbed, a Spined Micrathena can flick its cephalothorax up and down rapidly, which causes the base of the femur to rub on files on the book lung covers, and presto – stridulation (sound made by friction) (like grasshoppers)! The resulting buzz/hiss can be heard by humans up to about two feet away and is thought to be a defensive sound.
The BugLady took to the trails this summer as much as her shiny, new knee and the oppressive heat and humidity allowed (her preferred maximum temperature is 72 degrees. The gods didn’t cooperate). Here are some of the bugs she found.
BLUE DASHER OVIPOSITING – A female Blue Dasher bobs up and down as she looses eggs into the water. Blue Dashers don’t oviposit “in tandem,” with the male guarding her by maintaining his grip at the back of her head, but the male stays close, flying around her as she dips the tip of her abdomen into the water, and chasing off rival males that would carry her away.
CABBAGE BUTTERFLY ON PURPLE LOOSESTRIFE – A dainty, white butterfly on a pretty, fuchsia flower. Both are non-native (hint: the butterfly’s caterpillar is known as the European cabbage worm), and both are “naturalized,” that is, having been introduced and/or having escaped into the wild, they are doing very well on their own, thank you. Only a very small percentage of non-native, naturalized species go on to create problems and to get a third label – “invasive.” For a nice discussion, see https://www.hrwc.org/invasive-non-native-or-naturalized/.
EASTERN PONDHAWK AND MEADOWHAWK – It’s a dragonfly-eat-dragonfly world out there.
MILKWEED TUSSOCK MOTH AND CRAB SPIDER – The BugLady has been receiving some queries recently from BugFans whose milkweed is looking pretty ratty. The culprit? The Milkweed tussock moth https://bugguide.net/node/view/72813, whose caterpillar is sometimes called the Harlequin caterpillar. Mom lays masses of eggs, and the caterpillars feed gregariously for a while, skeletonizing leaves by eating the tender tissue between the leaf veins. Then they go their separate ways and eat the leaves down to their midribs. Bugguide.net says, in an understatement, that the caterpillars “May defoliate patches of milkweed.”
Allegedly, they don’t interfere with Monarch caterpillars because they eat the old, leathery leaves that the monarchs don’t, and because they’re gearing up as the Gen 5 Monarchs are readying themselves for their trip south.
No, the BugLady did not see the crab spider, and what looks like an egg sac, when she took the picture.
PICTURE-WINGED FLY – This spiffy fly (genus Rivelli, family Platystomatidae) walks around, twitching its wings constantly, sending semaphore signals to nearby females. For its story, see https://uwm.edu/field-station/bug-of-the-week/signal-fly/ (only, the BugLady misspelled the family name). What a treat to watch this little fly strutting his stuff!
WOOD/AMERICAN DOG TICK – Yes, they’re everywhere (they prefer grassy areas and forest edges), and yes, most people feel creepy just looking at a picture of one, feeling the phantom feet of phantom ticks tickling their skin. Dog ticks need three different hosts to get through their life cycles, and they can spread Rocky Mountain spotted fever as well as Tularemia (but if your dog comes down with Tularemia, it may be playing with the local bunnies). Various sources say that Wood ticks in Wisconsin don’t often carry diseases and that Rocky Mountain spotted fever (or any Spotted fever rickettsiosis) are (for now) rare here. They don’t spread Lyme disease.
VIRGINIA CTENUCHA CATERPILLAR –Lepidopterists say that the more spectacular the caterpillar, the more homely the adult, and vice versa The Virginia Ctenucha moth is one of the exceptions that proves the rule https://bugguide.net/node/view/1991557/bgimage.
The caterpillars are out and about early – this one was photographed in May, but they overwinter as caterpillars, and the BugLady encounters them strolling along on the warm road on a warm day in late winter or early spring. Adults are large-ish, day-or-night-flying moths that tuck in under a leaf when alarmed. The “C” is silent. –
WOOLLY ALDER APHIDS AND THEIR ANTS – We’ve seen it before – aphids going about their business, assisted by ants that protect them them in exchange for being able to “milk” them for honeydew, a sugary fluid that is a byproduct of the sap that flows through the aphids when they eat. Honeydew is an important carbohydrate for the ants that farm aphids and treehoppers. If you’ve ever seen a leaf whose upper surface looks shiny and sticky, look up under the overhead leaves – they’re probably occupied by aphids. Bees, wasps, flies, and other insects will visit the leaf to eat honeydew. The woolly aphid’s wool consists of waterproof, waxy filaments made in glands in the aphid’s abdomen.
EMERALD ASH BORER – They really are lovely, little beetles, with a surprise splash of crimson when their wings are spread https://bugguide.net/node/view/1522143/bgimage. But the extensive tunnels (called galleries https://bugguide.net/node/view/687825/bgimage) that the larvae make below the bark disrupt the ash tree’s plumbing so that it can’t pump nutrients between its roots and crown.
SEDGE SPRITES – One of the BugLady’s favorite damselflies, these little beauties are scarcely an inch long.
WEEVILS ON PURPLE PRAIRIE CLOVER – Purple prairie clover is a lovely, native tallgrass prairie plant. The early settlers on the Great Plains nicknamed it “Devil’s shoelaces” because this skinny, two-foot-high plant may have roots that are six feet long – roots that grew deep enough to reach through the thick prairie sod to find water. That magnificent sod resisted the settlers attempts to plow it with their small, cast-iron plows until 1837, when John Deere invented the steel moldboard plow, which he fashioned from an old sawmill saw.
ROBBER FLY – Remember, bumble bees are vegetarians, so if you see a bumble bee with prey, it’s not a bumble bee. Mimicking a bumble bee is a pretty good survival strategy – no one messes with bumble bees. This fly is in the genus Laphria, one of the “bee-like” robber flies. Their larvae live in rotten wood and feed on insects they find there, and the adults often prey on beetles (though the BugLady saw one make a pass at a Sulphur butterfly once). Robber flies come in a variety of sizes and shapes – for information about Wisconsin robber flies (and butterflies and tiger beetles) see https://wisconsinbutterflies.org/butterfly.
RED-BELTED BUMBLE BEES – are found west of the great plains and across southern Canada and our northern tier of states. They are one of the short-tongued bumble bees, which means that they prefer “flatter” flowers like clovers, thistles, goldenrods, and asters. The BugLady doesn’t know where this one was hiking to – she saw several others on flowers in the area. A little rusty on bumble bees? Here’s a great bumble bee guide from the Xerces Society: https://www.xerces.org/publications/identification-monitoring-guides/bumble-bees-of-eastern-united-states
Go outside, look at bugs,Professor, Dr. Richard B. Fischer, the content of whose fantastic natural history courses she uses Every! Single! Day! (right BugFan Mike?) He would have enjoyed BOTW.
Here’s a rare glimpse into the BugLady’s “BOTW Future” file, which is packed with pictures of identified insects that she hopes have a good story to tell, with semi-identified insects, and with (mostly) her “X-Files” – the Unidentified. (The file probably reflects the state of the BugLady’s brain.) It’s what she sees as she selects the bug of the week.
Traditionally, the BugLady goes on sabbatical for the month of June, but she’s going to sneak away a bit early this year. Why? There’s an old riddle,
“Why did the glaciers retreat?”
“To get more rocks.”
The BugLady needs more pictures.
Lest your inbox grow cobwebs, she will post a tasteful rerun each Tuesday until she gets back.
FROM THE FILE:
BEE X23 (on bergamot)23-1 – a busy little bald bee.
BEETLE MILKWEED ANNULATUS HL22-2 – Not our common Red milkweed beetle (Tetraopes tetropthalmus). There are two species here that are adorned with those lovely double rings on the antennal segments – T. femoratus (which has red on its legs, unless it doesn’t), and T. annulatus, sometimes called the Ringed milkweed beetle. The BugLady would happily call this T. annulatus based on appearance and habitat (dry, sandy areas), but it was sitting on Common milkweed, which is not listed as one of annulatus’s food plants. Is the BugLady overthinking this? Probably.
TULE BLUET DAMSELFLY21-2 – with a bunch of water mite nymphs on its abdomen. The BugLady knows who this is, but she’s written biographies of a number of other bluets, and the details of their life histories don’t vary a lot. Besides, she promised that she would not march methodically through the species lists of Wisconsin dragonflies and damselflies.
So many wasps!!!
BRACONID15-22 – someday the BugLady is going to write a Braconid Wasps 101 episode (they’re a big and important family) but first she needs to figure out which of her wasp pictures are braconids, because they can look similar to Ichneumon wasps (an even bigger family). This one seems to be ovipositing in the flower.
WASP ICHNEUMON Latholestes17-10 – maybe a braconid.
X WASP17-1 – also maybe a braconid
WASP ICHNEUMON RNC22-1 – a large and handsome Ichneumon.
WASP MISTLETOE SLB24-3 – this Ichneumon (probably) was exploring the flowers of Eastern dwarf mistletoe.
WASP FBMP OOF24-2 – an odd little wasp that joined the BugLady on the Hawk Tower on a cool day in mid-November.
X MOTH20-7 – this handsome, largish moth looks like it should be in the genus Haploa but…..
FLY DEER RNC23-2 – looks like a deer fly, but cinnamon- colored?
PLANTHOPPER NYMPH13-1 – isn’t this a little cutie!
SPIDER WAUB24-1 – what a lovely, almost translucent spider!
X LONGHORNED BEETLE HL15-2 – enjoying the wild geranium one spring day.
WEEVIL EP12-1 – Isn’t this a great little weevil? The BugLady scooped it from the surface of an ephemeral pond, but she doubt’s that it’s an aquatic species – more likely it was sitting on a leaf and got dislodged.
Running crab spiders, in a separate family (Philodromidae) have been mentioned briefly throughout the years – here’s their story.
They are “running” by both name and by inclination – they move along smartly, and Philodromidae comes from the Greek “philodromos,” meaning “lover of the race/course.” There are 92 species of spiders in this widespread family in North America, and they’re usually found on the stems and leaves of plants. Philodromuis and Tibellus are common genera.
These are not flashy spiders – most are small (measuring less than ½” long), flat-bodied, and drab. Many (but not all) are crab-shaped like the Thomisids, but in Philodromids, the second pair of legs is noticeably longer than the first. Eye arrangement is an important tool in spider ID – here’s what it looks like to stare two genera of Philodromids in the face https://gnvspiders.wordpress.com/7-philodromidae-running-crab-spiders/.
Philodromids don’t spin trap webs, but they do generate silk to make egg sacs and to form drag lines that catch them if they catapult off of a leaf in pursuit of prey or if they have to bail in order to avoid capture themselves. They are, of course, carnivores that eat any small invertebrate that they can ambush and subdue, including other spiders, and they are small enough to become prey of larger spiders, themselves.
Most sources said that their venom (should they even be able to puncture your skin) might result in some pain and swelling, but is not considered dangerous.
Males encounter females as they wander the landscape. She leaves a trail in the form of a pheromone-laden silk dragline; he catches up with her and romance ensues. She conceals her egg sac and guards it (like the female Philodromus guarding eggs that she had stashed in an empty beech nut shell) until her young hatch toward the end of summer, which markedly enhances the spiderlings chances of survival. The almost-mature spiderlings overwinter sheltered in leaf litter and under tree bark and mature the next year. A bitterly cold winter takes a toll on overwintering Philodromids.
The most common Philodromid genus is PHILODROMUS, flat spiders that look similar to the Thomisid crab spiders. There are 55 species in North America and about 200 more elsewhere. They’re found on vegetation, but also on the ground or on walls. Larry Weber, in Spiders of the North Woods, writes that Philodromus spiders are often found in trees (and sometimes inside the house, high on the wall), and that he has collected immature Philodromus spiders on the snow in early winter.
Philodromus spiders don’t spin a web but they may create a silken shelter.
With their cylindrical abdomens, spiders in the genus TIBELLUS (tib-EL’-us), the Slender crab spiders, are un-crab-like crab spiders. There are seven species in North America and two (or three) in Wisconsin, and some are striped and others are not. Based on the presence on the abdomen of both stripes and of two spots toward the end, the BugLady thinks she’s photographed Tibellus oblongus, the Oblong running spider, which has a patchwork range across North America https://bugguide.net/node/view/143110/data and is also widespread in the northern half of the Old World.
When a male Oblong running spider encounters a female, he taps her rapidly with legs and palps, and if she’s agreeable, she remains motionless. He spins a “bridal veil” that covers her and fixes her to the substrate. When the show is over, he leaves (in a rush) and she releases herself from the veil.
Today’s Science Word – the Oblong running spider is referred to as an “epigeal” organism, which means that it’s found on/above the soil surface and does not tunnel, swim, or fly. Oblong running spiders are often seen stretched out on grass leaves – the first two pairs of legs forward, the third pair hanging on, and the fourth pair extended back.
Like other spiders, Philodromids have superpowers, and one is their ability to walk on smooth, vertical surfaces without sliding off. How do they do it? Scopulae (scopulas). Alert BugFans will recall that many bees have clumps of hairs – scopa/scopae – on their legs or abdomens that allow them to collect and carry pollen. Same root word – the Latin “scopa” means “broom,” “twig,” or “brush” but scopula is the diminutive form (mini-brush). Scopulae are dense tufts of hairs that are found below the claws and at their tips on the feet of walking or wandering (non-web-spinning) spiders. The ends of those hairs are further fragmented, forming many, microscopic contact points for the spider’s foot. This creates a natural adhesion that is sometimes enhanced by liquid excreted from adhesive pads (alternately, one source suggested that the scopulae respond to a super-thin layer of water that covers most surfaces).
