Hoppers

The diversity of active insects at Blue Jay Barrens continues to decline as we proceed into autumn.  Fortunately, one of my favorite insect groups is still well represented by active adult individuals.  I’m referring to representatives of the order Orthoptera, which I generally think of as Hoppers, because of their specially adapted hind legs capable of sending the creatures bouncing across the landscape.  The most conspicuous of this order are the grasshoppers, such as this Two-Striped Grasshopper, so named for the twin lines that run backwards from the eyes and onto the wings where they merge to form a “V”.

The Two-Striped Grasshopper is part of a group known as spurthroated grasshoppers, so named because of the protruding spike found between the front legs.  The wounds on the underside of the thorax, along with the cream colored object that appears to be an egg, suggest that this individual is infested with parasites.

In large numbers, this species is sometimes an agricultural pest.  At Blue Jay Barrens the population seems to remain in check, making this just one of many species feeding on the diversity of prairie vegetation.

Many grasshoppers employ camouflage to help avoid predation.  This Kiowa Rangeland Grasshopper illustrates how easily it can avoid detection.

Removed from its rocky background, the grasshopper displays a bright and colorful pattern.

This is a quite variable species.  A diagnostic characteristic is a double hump located atop a structure known as the pronotum, which sits like a collar directly behind the head.

The grasshopper quickly blends into its surroundings once placed back on the ground.

Displaying the art of camouflage as a leaf mimic does this Lesser Anglewing little good when it sits on the tree trunk.  Anglewings are distinguished from other similar looking insects by the bend in the upper margins of the wing along the insect’s back.

The Lesser Anglewing can be separated from its close relative the Greater Anglewing by the presence of a dark patch on its back directly behind the pronotum.

Well concealed among the Indian Grass is a Fork-Tailed Bush Katydid.  I believe I interrupted some courtship activity in my discovery of this female.  I had actually been following the sound of a singing male of the species.  The vegetation was quite thick and as I pushed aside some grass stalks in an effort to catch a glimpse of the singer, I scared him from his perch.  The female, who was positioned about six inches further up the grass blade than the male, remained long enough for me to get a couple of shots before she too left the scene.

As a youngster, I always believed that the pale looking Broad Winged Tree Cricket was suffering some illness.  I never took any home to raise in captivity, because I believed that whatever ailment they suffered, might be transferred to the healthy insects in my collection.  It was years later that I found out that this was the normal appearance of this species. 

The red coloration on the head and antenna bases is distinctive.  The transparent forewings contain an intricate veined pattern that reminds me of fine crystal.

I’m a fan of insects that are so distinctively patterned that identification is unmistakable. Unfortunately, this specimen doesn’t fall into that category.  It is one of those that is part of a group of closely related species that share common physical traits.  This is most likely a Black-Horned Tree Cricket, but I am unable to make that identification with 100 percent assurance.

This handsome young lady is a Straight-Lanced Meadow Katydid.  The long sword-like appendage trailing from the end of the abdomen is the egg laying apparatus, the ovipositor. 

I’ve been seeing a lot of these Woodland Meadow Katydids this year.  In general they all seem little disturbed by my intrusion.

After only one photograph, this inquisitive lady went from corn stalk, to camera, to my hand, where it didn’t want to leave.

It migrated to my thumb where it began nibbling away at the skin.  I wasn’t sure if it was after salt or dead skin cells or the residue of ornamental corn sap that gave my thumb that purple blush.

When it moved around to my knuckle, which had not been corn contaminated, I decided that it was most likely grazing on dead skin cells.  I had to remove it from my thumb, however, because I didn’t have time for the full manicure.

Spraying Invasives

While I’m out doing work around the property, I carry a small spray bottle of glyphosate herbicide to use on any invasive shrubs I happen across.  Most of what I find, like this Autumn Olive, is only a year or two old and less than a foot in height.

 

Occasionally, I’ll find larger specimens.  This Autumn Olive was three feet tall and growing in a place that I frequently visit. When I find something like this, I always wonder how it was overlooked earlier.

Here’s a possible explanation.  A look at the base of the plant shows evidence of its having been browsed heavily at some time in the past.  Deer often eat young Autumn Olive right down to the ground.  The plant responds by sending up new shoots. 

A few inches above ground is more sign of deer browse.  In between cuttings, the shrub increases its root mass, so regrowth is more rapid after each occurrence.  I could easily have overlooked the plant after its pruning by the deer.  It doesn’t stay hidden forever though.

A clean cut at ground level and a dab of glyphosate applied to the wound means that this shrub will not be making another comeback.  I should clarify that glyphosate was applied only to the stump.  Everything else in the photo is wet because of a rain that had just ended less than an hour earlier.

Some of the Japanese Barberry that I find is more mature than most of the other invasives of similar size.  Being a smaller statured plant, by the time it’s large enough to be easily seen, it could be old enough to produce fruit.  I’m trying hard to keep the invasive shrubs from producing fruit.  I believe that birds feeding on the fruit of invasives will spend most of their time in the vicinity of that food source and are most likely to deposit the seeds of those species in the same area.  I know that there will always be some seeds of invasive shrubs dropped within the boundaries of Blue Jay Barrens, but by denying the birds the opportunity to dine on those same fruits here, the incidence of seed drop will be reduced.

Multiflora Rose seedlings are still commonly found.  The greatest incidence of these seedlings is in areas that once supported thickets of mature rose bushes.  It may take a few years for the collection of seed in these areas to diminish.

Even if I have to deal with a scattering of seedlings each year, these sites are looking much improved over the days when they were a solid Multiflora Rose monoculture.

Large rose canes are now those of native roses.  Native rose seedlings are also becoming more numerous.

Most of the Bush Honeysuckle is small enough to be pulled root and all from the ground.  It’s becoming rare to find any of this species large enough to require a cut and spray.

I was surprised when I pulled on a small Bush Honeysuckle and came up with this previously cut stump.

I remember when this was originally cut two years ago.  A large tree limb had fallen on the shrub and forced the branches to radiate horizontally from the center.  New shoots came up from the horizontal branches as well as the center of the plant.  To assure a good kill, I levered the stump out of the ground and treated the cut roots left behind.  The stump, left on the ground, sent out new roots and began to grow anew.

I set the stump in the branches of a fallen cedar.  This will allow it to dry out and die.

Just to be sure, I cut the sprouts and gave them a shot of glyphosate.  I certainly don’t want to come out and find this thing continuing to grow. 

Draba Growth in the Faux Barrens

I’ve cut down on the number of containers I maintain for growing native plants, while I transition to the use of open growing beds.  There are a few plants that fail to survive or just get lost when introduced into a less confining environment, so I continue to maintain their container habitat.  One of those is the tiny winter annual, Draba cuneifolia.

Winter annuals normally germinate in the fall, slowly grow basal rosettes through the winter, send up flower stalks in the spring and then wither away.  Seeds lie dormant through the summer heat and germinate when temperatures begin to cool.

 

I’ve noticed that the Draba cuneifolia seed left in the pot from the previous year’s plants, actually germinates in late summer.  This year, I noticed seedlings in the middle of August, during a period that was showing no signs of cooling.  Those seedlings have grown rapidly and threaten to cover the gravelly surface of my manufactured barrens with a carpet of blue-grey plants.

A dime is used to gauge the relative size of these young plants.  The dime represents a normal size for a flowering individual, although some rosettes easily grow to a size twice the diameter of the dime.  I’ve never had such a thick crop of Draba cuneifolia, so I’m anxious to see how they develop under such extreme crowding.

This is a close up view of some natural barrens in which I annually find Draba cuneifolia.  The puzzling thing is that I have never found any Draba seedlings here in the fall.  They don’t present themselves until February or early March.

I spent about an hour yesterday searching back-and-forth across the barrens for any sign of Draba seedlings.  I found none.  The reason why they develop so early in my container remains a mystery.  The container gets no special consideration during the summer.  It endures the same weather conditions and exposure to sunlight.  It may be that the concentration of seed is so much higher in the container that early developing plants are easier to see.  If my container plants don’t suffer from crowded conditions, I should have an abundance of seed produced next spring.  I may transfer a large quantity of that seed to a small section of the natural barrens to see if that results in early plants in the natural environment. 

New Location for a Favorite Rare Plant

It is always exciting to discover a new location for a rare plant already known to be growing at Blue Jay Barrens.  Sometimes it’s more exciting than adding a new species to the property list.  Yesterday I discovered a new population of Spiranthes magnicamporum, Great Plains Ladies’ Tresses, an orchid species that is listed as Potentially Threatened in Ohio.

It was cloudy with a light drizzle of rain when I noticed a white beacon before me.  White flowers that are often lost in the brilliance of sunlight, can sometimes glow brightly in dim conditions.  This bloom was impossible to overlook.

It’s no wonder the plant caught my attention.  With a total height of 16 inches, five inches of that being the flower spike, it clearly stood out from the surrounding vegetation.  When I crouched down to get a photo, the fragrance was almost overwhelming.

I found 14 flowering plants all growing in this strange eroded area near the toe of a steep slope.  Fourteen years ago I found a single Spiranthes magnicamporum growing in a tiny opening that is located about 30 yards into the cedars in the direction of the orange leaved trees showing in the upper right portion of the photo.  That plant has not been seen to bloom since.  There is a walking trail that passes horizontally through the photo about a third of the way up the frame.  I walk this trail frequently and am sure I would have noticed blooming orchids before, had they been here.  I’m wondering if these plants might have come from seed released by that lone plant I saw earlier.

Some of the plants were growing from clumps of grasses, primarily Little Bluestem, that had become established in the eroded soil.

Others just sprang from almost bare ground.

Those growing in bare soil were much easier to find than those hidden in the grasses.  The plant in the upper left of this photo is the one that first attracted my attention.  While I was examining that plant, I completely failed to notice the slightly smaller version just a few feet away and visible in the lower right corner of the photo.  I didn’t find the second plant until much later while doing a careful search of the whole area.

At just over three inches, this is a typical sized flower spike.  Even small plants produce an abundance of scent, making them easy for pollinators to find.  Despite the fragrance, I’ve never seen any insects on these plants.  It’s clear that pollination is occurring since most plants develop seeds.  Since the flowers release their pollen only to nectaring insects, there must be insect visitors.  If we have another warm afternoon, I may just hang out with these flowers for a few hours to see what comes by.

Squash Bugs

Most gardeners are familiar with this insect.  This is a Squash Bug, Anasa tristis.  It is a common garden visitor and, despite the fact that it’s an attractive and interesting creature, most people don’t welcome its presence. 

Maybe the Squash Bug is easier to recognize against a more common background.  This species feeds primarily on squash, pumpkins and gourds and can cause injury to both the vines and the fruits.  It is said that the common name also provides instructions on how to deal with the insect when found – “Squash bug”.

These are True Bugs with the distinctive tubular mouth parts used to penetrate the tough outer skin of the fruit and access the juices inside.  The vertical appendage descending from the center of the bug’s face is the mouth.

Wounds left by the feeding bugs also provide an opportunity for other insects to make use of the succulent plant juices.  The Allegheny Mound Ants don’t miss a chance to add something new to their diet.

Egg laying takes place over an extended period in the spring and early summer.  This results in groups of bugs with individuals of varying ages.  The immature nymphs will not gain their wings until their final molt to adulthood. 

Squash Bugs overwinter as adults.  It takes about four to six weeks for the Squash Bug to reach maturity, but cold temperatures slow the development process.  An early winter could catch the younger members of this group unprepared for the task of surviving until spring.

I recently harvested the remaining usable produce from the garden and moved the damaged items to the compost pile outside the garden area.  I moved no Squash Bugs, but by the next day, the compost pile was crawling with Squash Bugs, both adults and nymphs.  The Squash Bug population has been increasing over the past couple of years, so I’ll probably forego planting squash, gourds and pumpkins next year.  The bugs will have nothing to eat here and will fly off in search of a suitable place to lay eggs.  That will effectively break the cycle and I can go back to vine crops the following year.