Month: October 2021

Are You My Moth-er?

©2021 Karen Richards

I spent quite a bit of time patiently following this week’s moths, trying to get decent photos. They were new to me and seemed impressive but both, I was sad to learn, are not universally liked (by humans). The one above was quite large, and kept its wings fluttering most of the time, even when it was eating. I looked it up when I got home and discovered it’s a type of looper moth, so-called because the caterpillars move in a looping motion.

©2021 Karen Richards

This is the same moth (note the tear on the left wing), taken with a different camera, so it looks darker, and closer to its actual color. The white wing marks that sometimes give the illusion of being three-dimensional are common to loopers and they’re called “stigma.” I wish I’d gotten a good shot of this moth’s profile, because they have distinctively jagged, one might say loopy, crests and turrets. Valerie’s Austin Bug Collection has some good side-views and info. Many loopers damage crops, like cabbage or soybean, and they’re named for that behavior. This may be an alfalfa looper.

©2021 Karen Richards

This plume moth kept flying a few feet away and landing again on stalks of grass. In profile, it was seahorse-like, with an upward-curved abdomen. I think plume moths are cool, the way they fold the wings to look like twigs. This one, I think, is an artichoke plume moth. The caterpillars do substantial damage to California artichoke crops, but they also eat thistles, which is probably the food source in the park where I saw this one. This Project Noah page says each species of plume moth holds its legs and abdomen differently at rest, and the description of the Artichoke Plume fits this moth.

Cheers!

Color Pops

©2021 Karen Richards

Normally, Melanostoma genus hover flies like the one above have pale yellow halteres. Those are the knobs behind the wings that help them balance in flight—their vestigial second set of wings. When females have mated and are ready to lay eggs, the halteres turn neon green. I was jazzed to see this one last week. Even though the fly is tiny, just a third of an inch or less, you can see the green halteres with naked eyes.

©2021 Karen Richards

It was very hard to find any information confirming that hover fly halteres change color when they’re gravid (with young). I finally found a few sources, including BugGuide.net here, but I still don’t see any explanations as to why. So I’ll throw a question out there: Do you think the green neon indicator discourages males from trying to mate with the gravid flies? Why else would the halteres change color? And what is the mechanism that makes it happen?

©2021 Karen Richards

Here’s another spot of color I saw recently. Sadly, this caterpillar was dead when I came upon it. However, I may not have seen it had it been able to continue across the path. I was intrigued by the light blue tail at the back. I looked it up when I got home, and I’m happy to say it’s a sphinx moth, the caterpillars of which are called hornworms for a reason! This genus, Smerinthus, lives in willow trees near water, so it wasn’t far from home on a trail near the banks of the Willamette River. The adults are gorgeous and it’d be amazing to see one. Here’s a photo series from BugGuide.

Cheers!

Toad, Piglet and More

©2021 Karen Richards

Over the past couple of weeks I’ve found a few new kinds of insects by searching the ground. This is a toad bug. You can see by looking at it why someone would choose that common name, but this true bug also hops exactly like a tiny toad! I saw two of them on a sandy path one sunny day and haven’t found any more since. Amusingly, their scientific family name is Gelastocoridae, which translates to “laughing bug,” or, according to BugGuide.net, perhaps “laughable bug.”

©2021 Karen Richards

This spiffy little true bug, on the other hand, is ridiculously easy to find once you know to look for it. This is a male Piglet Bug, and I wrote more about them at the Mount Pisgah blog, in case you’re interested. The enlarged front legs on this planthopper are strictly for show. At least, researchers haven’t found any reason for them other than to make their mating rituals more tantalizing.

©2021 Karen Richards

Dusting off our knees and getting up off the ground, here’s a crazy insect I saw wandering around on a shady leaf. Before I looked at the cropped photos, I thought the black whiskery bits were the antennae, which it later folded up when it stopped moving (see below). But as you can see, there are also black and white striped, actual antennae that are quite long.

©2021 Karen Richards

This is a Mystacides longhorn caddisfly and the fuzzy extra antennal bits are mouthparts called palps. They take in senses like touch and taste. Sounds pretty weird to us humans, but for Mystacides, that’s how they roll.

Cheers!