Young Fence Lizards

Young Fence Lizards have suddenly begun showing up everywhere at Blue Jay Barrens.  I don’t know if the hatch has been that much greater than previous years or if the drought diminished plants have just left more prime lizard habitat exposed to easier viewing.

All of the lizards seemed to show up on the same day.  I noticed the first just off the front porch.  I looked through the window at the Water Garden and saw movement in the young violet plants. 

I snuck out the door and crawled toward the violets.  The lizard watched me the whole way and stuck around long enough for one photo.

After a quick run through the vegetation, the lizard zipped up the landscape timbers.  It gave me one last look before running the length of the timber and disappearing between two stones.

I headed on out to the barn to gather some tools for the day’s activities and scared a young Fence Lizard that was sunning on the concrete slab outside the barn door.  It scooted off the slab and crawled up the door jamb.  It really blends well with the weathered wood.

The lizard population around the barn keeps increasing, so I must be doing a good job of not harming the little guys.  I keep thinking that one of these days I’ll throw my back out twisting to avoid a small lizard that makes its break for safety right at my feet.  There must be times when they mistake me for some form of shelter.

Later that same day, I saw this youngster sunning on a dead cedar branch at the edge of one of the barrens.  I really love lizard encounters.  It’s nice to see so many additions to the population.

Checking the Fence Row

I take a weekly walk along the fence row to see how the plants are responding to my clearing efforts of last winter.  Invasive plants are far from eliminated, but at least they have been knocked back to a point where they are not so obvious.

The visual screen has been reduced enough to make it possible to see through to the next field, but it’s still enough of a barrier to keep open field animal species from moving through.  I’m still evaluating the health and desirability of those native species left in the fence row to determine where I should make openings to help connect the neighboring fields.  I believe a 50 foot wide pathway through the old fence row should be adequate.  I’m basing this on the fact that I have several small prairie openings that measure about 50 feet across and these seem to contain a wide variety of prairie associated fauna.  If an animal can live in an area 50 feet wide it should feel comfortable enough to travel a corridor of similar size from one area to the next.

The ridge containing the fence row has not fared well during the drought.  Ground cover has not done much growing at all. 

Christmas Fern is thriving under the conditions we’ve had this year.  It is benefiting from the open conditions created by removal of the non-native invasive plants.  Its leathery leaves help it to retain moisture in dry conditions and it was in perfect condition to utilize the scattered showers we’ve been having.  This is probably the most vigorous species in the fence row right now.

There may be a lack of ground cover, but this is much better than having the ground shaded by Autumn Olive and Multiflora Rose.  Prior to the clearing, the view from this point ended about three feet in front of your face.  All of that open space was filled with rose canes and olive branches.  Now, instead of giving all of my attention to discouraging non-natives, I can begin thinking about encouraging native plants to grow.

Some of the native trees and shrubs still have to be removed.  In most cases, those individuals are obvious.  The stress of growing in a crowded fence row with a gang of aggressive invasive species has left many of the trees with deformities that make it impossible for them to persist.  Wind storms have helped identify many of those.  My goal here is to thin the fence row growth until I’ve created an openness similar to a prairie savanna.  There will be shade, but with the area open enough to allow unrestricted air movement.  I’ll leave any rare species and high quality specimens.  The weak, deformed and common are all candidates for removal.

I found this worn Red-banded Hairstreak on the edge of the fence row area.  This is the first Hairstreak I’ve seen in about four weeks.  Their numbers are definitely down this year, but I hope there have been a few out there busily laying eggs for next year’s crop.

Wingstem

Late August is a time of tall plants at Blue Jay Barrens. One of the most conspicuous is Wingstem, which can easily reach nine feet tall.  This year however, I’ve only found one plant that has been able to place its flowers above my head.

In a normal growing year, this view would have been blocked by towering Wingstem plants.  When the early drought was at its worst, the young plants stopped growing and stood for days with their leaves hanging limp along the stems.  The random rain showers restored them to vigor, but it was too late to put on any more height.

The display of flowers has been undiminished by the stress.  I would almost say that there were more flowers than normal, but it may just be that I’m unused to seeing them at this angle.  My normal view is from below.

Wingstem gets its name from the narrow projections running the length of the plant stalk. 

Long, pointed leaves line the full length of the stalk.  This aggressive native perennial uses height, shade and an expansive root system to maintain its place in the open field community.  It declines in extremely dry conditions, so it’s not likely to be found growing in extremely shallow soils. 

Some of the early flowers have already produced seeds.  Birds will claim most of these.  Finches in particular find Wingstem seeds to be especially desirable.

There won’t be any shortage of Wingstem seeds this year.  New buds are still forming, so flowers should continue to bloom for the next several weeks.

Many of the regular insect visitors seem to be absent this year.  I did find several of these Spotted Cucumber Beetles on the flowers.  It’s been several years since I’ve seen this species around here.

Ailanthus Webworm Moths have suddenly appeared in large numbers.  I was happy to learn that this moth feeds on several other deciduous trees besides Ailanthus.  The presence of the moths kept making me think that the invasive Ailanthus was somewhere nearby.  I know that Ailanthus will probably reach Blue Jay Barrens one day, but now I believe that it is actually farther away than I thought.

Bumblebees are the dominant flower visitors. Most were carrying full loads in the pollen baskets on their hind legs.  I doubt that these tight masses of pollen are effective at transferring pollen to the stigma of the flower.  Pollen carried on the bee’s body and leg hairs would more easily do the job of pollination.  Bumblebees are the most commonly seen large pollinators at Blue Jay Barrens.  They seem particularly abundant on large masses of flowers like those provided by the Wingstem.

Carolina Grasshopper

The Carolina Grasshopper, Dissosteira carolina, has always been one of my favorites.  That’s partially because it’s such a large, showy insect.  The other reason is the fact that it can be found just about anywhere in the contiguous 48 United States.  My family moved frequently when I was young, but no matter where we went, I could always find this grasshopper.

Its coloration allows it to blend into just about any substrate.  The camouflage is so effective that the grasshopper is usually not noticed until it takes wing.  The flashy wings, black with a yellow border, are impossible to miss as the grasshopper flits through the air.  Their disappearance as the grasshopper touches ground is reminiscent of a fine magic act. 

Not only is this a common grasshopper, its preferred habitat is identical to that frequented by young boys.  Although it eats a wide variety of plants, the grasshopper tends to congregate in areas of bare ground.  It’s commonly found on school playgrounds, baseball diamonds, dirt roads, gravel driveways, concrete slabs and other similar conditions.  It didn’t make any difference if I was in an urban or a rural setting, these grasshoppers were always there.

The species seems to have a well defined personal space.  As I slowly neared that limit, the grasshopper would shift its body slightly and show more attention in my direction.  This one seemed to be using its antennae to send me a semaphore signal.  It began with both antennae up.

Then it would alternately drop and raise a single antenna.  First one would go down and then back up.

As one antenna returned to the upright position, the other would drop and lift.

Finally, both antennae dropped in unison and then rose.  I can’t be sure that the activity had anything to do with my presence, but the grasshopper jumped as soon as I began to move the camera closer.  I can’t see these guys without being reminded of my childhood.

Evening Primrose

A Common Evening Primrose, Oenothera biennis, managed to establish itself beside the barn.  This is a native biennial that prefers growing in areas of bare, disturbed soil.  I always let one or two grow to maturity each year.  The seven foot tall plants produce an abundance of pretty flowers, but you have to be an early riser to see them at their best.

Evening Primrose is a night bloomer.  Flowers open in late evening and wither in the early morning sunlight.  Sphinx moths are common night time visitors to this flower.  I’ve spent several nights out watching and have yet to see any insect come near the flowers.  I haven’t stayed out all night, but there should be some nectar hunters out in the hour on either side of midnight.

In years past, I’ve seen plenty of sphinx moths at these flowers.  This year’s flowers seem to be incredibly lonely.  I wonder if the sphinx moths have gone the way of my missing butterflies.

Within a few hours after sunrise, the flowers have faded away.  The flower stalk keeps producing more flower buds.  There are always a few new buds ready to open every night, so the actual blooming period lasts for quite a while.  Old flowers are busy developing seeds.  Something must be fertilizing the flowers, because the seed pods just keep growing.

Ants have claimed this plant and have created a temporary nest at the base of the stem.

These small ants are on constant patrol and can be found everywhere on the plant.

Several Spittlebug nymphs are residing on the plant.  Most make their foamy nest near the stem on the upper side of the leaf.





Nymphs stay safely hidden within their bubble nests and feed on sap from the primrose. Each foamy mass contained at least two nymphs.  This is a dorsal view of two nymphs.  The right hand nymph is oriented head down and the left is head up.

The nymphs crawl free of their nest to perform the final molt into adulthood.  The adults are capable of flight and take off to pursue a free roaming life style.

The foam is apparently a tasty, but dangerous treat for many insects.  This ant and fly seem to have gotten stuck and perished in the sticky substance.  Even if the Evening Primrose didn’t have such nice flowers, the insect interactions alone would be worth having a few of the plants around.

Annual Cicada

I’ve been hearing the buzz of summer Cicadas for several weeks.  Periodic storms strip the trees of spent nymphal skins, but the continued emergence of adult Cicadas return those decorations to the tree trunks.  Annual Cicadas stage an emergence every summer and often go unnoticed because their song is such a familiar part of the summer experience.  If their song was removed from the summer orchestra, I don’t think the Katydids and Crickets would be able to fill the void.

Cicadas are fun to watch, but they are often hard to get close to.  I think it was just coincidental that I looked up from examining the shed skin to find a Cicada in the branches above me.  I expected it to start singing.  Instead, it moved slowly up and down the length of a dead cedar branch.

Occasionally it stopped and appeared to hug the branch.  The bright background of the sky and my position on the ground made it difficult to see any details of what the Cicada was doing.  Fortunately, the cedar had some stout branch stubs near the ground and I was able to reposition myself upward to a better vantage point.

On closer examination I could see that what I thought was a back leg was actually the ovipositor, AKA egg laying tube.  From where I was perched, it looked as though the Cicada was depositing eggs into the dead cedar branch.  I’ve seen many egg laying Cicadas and they do lay their egg in small diameter tree branches, but I have never seen them use anything but live branches.  Maybe I still wasn’t close enough to properly interpret what I was seeing.

My next step up brought me close to level with the strange bug.  I watched for quite a while and the Cicada was indeed laying eggs.  The white material rising from the branch just below the ovipositor is wood material loosened by the egg laying action.  Eggs are laid in the slit of a branch and I always thought live wood was used because it was softer and provided the proper moisture conditions.  Since the newly hatched nymphs fall to the ground and immediately burrow in search of roots upon which to feed, it seemed that there was a definite survival advantage to be had by laying eggs in a living branch which most likely would be in a position above living roots.

In this case, despite being a dead branch, there are plenty of live roots down below.  I always enjoy making observations that go against what I’ve read or been taught.  It’s something that happens quite frequently.  The problem is that there is very little known about the life histories or behaviors of most animals.  It seems that pest animals are those most thoroughly studied and most of that was in an attempt to learn how to kill them.  Anyone who takes the time to look, will probably see some behavior that is not documented.  It’s a lot of fun.

Uncommon White Flowers

All species show variations, but I think those differences are most noticed when they deal with color.  Every year I find a few plants with flowers displaying white petals instead of their normal hue.  These two diminutive Rose Pink plants were growing side-by-side; one with white petals and the other with standard pink petals.  This species produces a few white petaled individuals each year.

The dry prairies are filled with Hairy Small-leaved Tick Trefoils with their long stalks of lavender blossoms.  I shouldn’t have to point out the obvious face showing in each bloom.

One lone plant is producing stalks of white flowers.  From a distance, the white blossoms are much easier to see.

Sadly, the face is not nearly as evident in the white flowers. 

The Wild Petunia regularly displays petals in varying shades of blue and lavender, but the differences are not enough for the casual observer to notice.

When the Wild Petunia shows itself in white, the blossom stands out from the crowd.  As a manager of wild plant populations, I enjoy seeing these variations.  A wide range of genetic choices is an indicator of a healthy population and makes that population more resilient and able to survive environmental changes.  Flower color may mean little to the future survival of a species, but these visible signs of genetic diversity suggest that there is also much genetic variation present that is not so easily detected.