Ohio Birds and Biodiversity

I didn't let much grass grow under my feet this weekend. Saturday, it was off to Caesar Creek Lake in southwest Ohio, where I met up with Ned Keller, Kathy McDonald, and Debi Wolterman to sort out last minute details for next weekend's butterfly workshop. The next day, it was off to see some of the coolest natural areas in Geauga County, then from there directly to Tuscarawas County where I joined in on some interesting moth-ing last night. Rolled back into Columbus about 6:30 this morning...

Of course, I had the camera in tow and was able to make a few images here and there. This is one of the prairie meadows at Caesar Creek, where we'll be taking field trips next Saturday as part of the aforementioned butterfly workshop. We saw plenty of interesting critters in this field, and other similar habitats. By the way, this image was taken with my iPhone 5S, which has a remarkable built-in camera (and video function). I often use it to document habitats, people, and places.

Of particular interest were some cooperative hummingbird moths. This is the species that you're most likely to encounter in Ohio, the hummingbird clearwing, Hemaris thysbe. It, and the other Hemaris moths are day-flying sphinx moths, and can be quite conspicuous as they take nectar at flowers. They're fairly tame, but that doesn't necessarily equate to easy photo ops.

As with real hummingbirds, these moths are quick and darty, and beat their wings at incredible speed. To freeze the action, more or less, one must use an extremely fast shutter speed. I made this image and the next with my Canon 5D Mark III at ISO 250, no flash, f/3.2, and a shutter speed of 1/4000. Even though I probably got some technically better images showing the entire animal in sharper focus, I like this one, as it illustrates the incessant speed of the moth as it moves around the flowers. Just remember to always focus on the eye - if that feature is sharp the rest of the image will usually fall into place.

This is our other regularly occurring "hummingbird moth" in the genus Hemaris, the snowberry clearwing, H. diffinis. I don't see this one as often as the previous species, and was pleased to encounter both in short order on the same day. Note how much blacker this species is, even its legs.

All camera settings were the same for this shot as the previous, except I bumped up the shutter speed to 1/5000. Even that wasn't enough to fully arrest the movement of the wings, but the body of the insect is more or less tack sharp. For this shot, I made a conscious effort to shoot the animal from the side, so as to get better clarity of focus throughout its body. Setting up on feeding clearwing moths is made easier by their habit of systematically circling the flower heads of the wild bergamot, Monarda fistulosa, upon which they love to feed. The photographer can just kneel by the flower, and wait for the moth to work its way around and into good position for photos.

The last weekend in June saw the epic Mothapalooza conference take over Burr Oak State Park's lodge with 150 avid moth-ers. A definite highlight was the nocturnal field trips. Both Friday and Saturday night involved heavy duty mothing, with trips departing shortly after nightfall, and many attendees did not return until 2 or 3 am.

We had five mothing stations (illuminated sheets) scattered about, all within a few miles of the lodge. Each of the stations recorded lots of moths, but Diane Platco Brooks' Brookside Haven property was the standout. She kindly allowed dozens and dozens of people to invade her property each night, and swarm excitedly around the sheets ogling all manner of cool moths. Pretty awesome.

Following is a gallery of select moths that we recorded during Mothapalooza. Many of these photos were made at Diane's place. This is but a sampling; Mothapaloozians recorded many, many more species than what I have shown here.

Banded Tussock Moth, Halysidota tessellaris. This was one of the most common species at the sheets. Note the cream and aqua racing stripes adorning the thorax.

A "life moth" for me, and many others, the Basswood Leafroller, Pantographa limata.

Nearly everyone knows this species' caterpillar, the Woolly-worm, purported larval forecaster of winter's severity. This is what Woolly-bears grow up to be - the Isabella Tiger Moth, Pyrrharctia isabella.

An Eastern Tentworm, Malacosoma americanum, a rather handsome little moth, if you ask me. Its caterpillars are also far better known than the adult moth. They make the messy silken bags, mostly in cherry trees, that are so conspicuous in spring and early summer.

We caught this Fall Webworm Moth, Hyphantria cunea, in the act of carpet bombing a leaf with her eggs. This is the species that makes the big messy silken tents in a variety of trees in late summer and fall. There's a good reason that she, and most other moths, lay so many eggs. The mortality rate of the caterpillars is extremely high, as many predators hunt them and eat them.

This is a Grape Plume Moth, Geina periscelidactylus (the name is bigger than the moth). Plume moths are very distinctive when at rest due to the cross-like posture of the animal.

Stunning in hues of burnt orange and scarlet is this Painted Lichen Moth, Hypoprepia fucosa. The caterpillars feed on lichens, hence the name.

Extraordinarily tiny and easily overlooked are the grass-veneers, but they are always worthy of close inspection. This is a Pasture Grass-veneer, Crambus saltuellus.

My friends David and Laura Hughes refer to the Caloptilia moths as "push-up moths", and it's easy to see why the name fits. This is a Sassafras Caloptilia Moth, Caloptilia sassafrasella.

I am partial to the Datana moths, in spite of the fact that identifying them is not always straightforward. I believe this is the Spotted Datana, Datana perspicua.Note its flat fuzzy orange face - quite odd, indeed.

The Beggar, Eubapha mendica, is a subtle beauty; its pale cream coloration is difficult to accurately capture in photographs.

Looking a bit surly is this Unspotted Looper, Allagrapha aerea. Maybe it's because he has humps on his back and a rhinoceros' horn. Even an artistic madman deep in the throes of a psilocybin mushroom trip couldn't create these sorts of creatures.

In spite of being a bit tattered and faded, this Zebra Conchylodes, Conchylodes ovulalis, is still an extraordinary animal. I'll look forward to finding and photographing a brand new, totally fresh one someday.

We are already scheming to make Mothapalooza III better than ever, and hope to square the venue and dates within the nest few weeks. You'll definitely want to get tickets.

A tightly packed scrum of Tricolored Bats, Perimyotis subflavus, clusters in the dim recess of a building in Warren County, Ohio. I was down at Caesar Creek Reservoir last weekend to meet with our planning committee for this Saturday's Butterfly Workshop, spearheaded by the Midwest Native Plant Society (organized to run the annual Midwest Native Plant Conference). I was pleased indeed to learn that the building that we were meeting in plays host to a pack of these tiny bats. Not only that, but what we have here is a maternity colony! There are eleven or twelve adult female Tricolored Bats in the scrum; the grayer, smaller bats are recently born offspring a week or so of age.

Sorry for the less than stellar image, but I was unwilling to shoot bright flash into their alcove, which would have made for a crisper photo.

However, one of the bats was isolated from the community and down much lower on the wall. It may have been slightly dehydrated, or maybe it just set down in the wrong place come dawn. Whatever the case, it was far more visible than the others. Nonetheless, we kept a respectable distance, and kept an eye on her, as she was in an area with regular people traffic. Eventually the bat did make her way to a much more sheltered and hidden nook in the wall.

Tricolored Bats were formerly known as Eastern Pipistrelles, and they are the smallest of Ohio's regularly occurring bat species. A big one might weigh 10 grams; a dinky one maybe 4-5 grams. To me, they resemble little golden mice with wings.

Tricolored Bats probably use trees and other structures a lot for warm weather roosts, but in winter they duck deep into caves to hibernate. And that habit, unfortunately, is proving to be their downfall, along with other cave-dwelling bat species.

In 2006, a strange malady affecting bats was noted in a New York State cave, and eventually branded as White-nose Syndrome, which is caused by the fungus Pseudogymnoascus destructans. It is suspected the fungus, which is native to Europe, was transported to the cave by a spelunker(s) who had recently been caving in Europe. Infected bats show whitish fungal crusting on their faces, hence the name.

The disease spread rapidly, and today has been recorded in 22 states and 5 Canadian provinces. WNS fungus, which thrives in damp cool places such as caves and mines, has had disastrous impacts on cave-dwelling bats such as the Tricolored Bat. In some cases, 95% of an impacted colony can be wiped out - worst case scenarios, complete mortality - and to date millions of bats have perished. Ironically, as is the case with so many introduced pests, the fungus apparently has no discernible impact on bats in its native range.

Bats play an incredibly important role in our ecosystems, especially forested areas in this part of the world. Collectively, they harvest untold millions of insects on their nocturnal forays, and are estimated to provide billions of dollars in pest control value annually in North America.

Look! A tiny foot is extended from underneath Mrs. Tricolored Bat! Our bat is concealing a week or two old baby. For a few weeks, the juvenile bats are closely guarded by the mothers, who feed them milk. Mother bats enwrap the babies with their wings and shelter them during the day, and can even fly with baby on board. Come August, this baby bat and the others should be free-flying.

This colony of bats has been returning to this exact spot and breeding for nineteen years. Our escort and source of information about these Tricolored Bats was Kim Baker, ranger and interpretative guide with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. Kim and her colleagues have kept close tabs on these bats for years, and take pains to protect the colony. That's undoubtedly why they have been returning here for so long, even though their home is an artificial structure.

As Tricolored Bats are one of the species effected by White-nose Syndrome, Kim and company cross their fingers and hope for the best each spring, when the bats are slated to return. So far, so good, and their numbers have remained fairly constant. Let's hope this colony of bats manages to dodge the White-nose Syndrome bullet.

Yesterday, the Midwest Native Plant Society hosted a Butterfly Workshop in this building - the Caesar Creek Visitor Center, owned and managed by the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. The facility is a fabulous venue for hosting such events, and is convenient to Cincinnati, Dayton, Columbus and lots of other places. We had about 105 attendees, mostly from Ohio, but also Indiana, Florida, and Kentucky. Major thanks go to the Army Corps for making the building available for such events, and to ranger Kim Baker for acting as our host. Linda Romine, also with the Corps, was also a great help.

The Midwest Native Plant Society was formed to run our upcoming Midwest Native Plant Conference, now in its sixth year. We try to put on one or two other special events annually under the MNPS banner, and the Butterfly Workshop was one of those.

Lunchtime at the workshop. We fairly well filled the place. The Caesar Creek Visitor Center is perfect for hosting such events. This capacious conference room can be set up in a variety of different ways, and features a large drop-down screen and up-to-date audio-visual. At the other end of the building is a smaller auditorium, and that was perfect for use as a concurrent breakout session room.

Major thanks go to everyone who made this event possible. Chief among them is Kathy McDonald, who oversaw all of the logistics in one form or another. Others who played key roles were Debi Wolterman, Yvonne Dunphey, Judy Ganance, and Sue Metheny. Jim Davidson, Sandy Belth and all of our speakers helped with leading field trips, and Mary Anne Barnett brought along a bunch of cool caterpillars for everyone to see. If I am forgetting anyone I apologize!

An event like this would be nothing without good presenters, and we had four topnotch ones: Jaret Daniels (author of Butterflies of Ohio), Jeff Belth (author of Butterflies of Indiana), Cheryl Harner, and Scott Hogsten. Thanks to all of them for informing and educating the group.

One of our ulterior motives was to get more native plants in the hands of more people. As you know (or should know), our butterflies, moths, and nearly all native insects and other animals require native plants. Helping us achieve this goal was Gale Martin of Natives in Harmony nursery. She sold a ton of good plants to people, including a boatload of milkweeds (go Monarchs!).

As is our habit, the conference included field trips. We believe that it is quite important to get people outside, even though doing so often adds huge logistical headaches to a conference. A big advantage of using the Caesar Creek Visitor's Center was the abundance of diverse habitats within minutes of the building. Indeed, one of our trips explored the prairie plantings, woods, and wetland immediately adjacent to the building.

This group is wandering a large meadow full of native prairie plants, and dotted with two wetlands. Linda Romine and I led one group through here, and Jaret Daniels had another. Collectively, we found lots of cool stuff, and as is usually the case, the trips became natural history free-for-alls. We prioritized butterflies, but nothing was ignored. A definite highlight for many was an amazingly cooperative Yellow-breasted Chat that kept teeing up in plain sight and singing his odd series of hoots, squawks, grunts, and whistles. Chats can mimic well, and this one regularly performed a perfect rendition of the nearby Willow Flycatcher's soft whistled Whit! call notes.

One of the wetlands was ringed by Swamp Rose Mallow, Hibiscus moscheutos, which was just coming into flower. Both carnation and white flower forms were present. Filling the interior of the wetland - the creamy specks in the backdrop - was flowering American Lotus, Nelumbo lutea.

Nothing spikes diversity like a good wetland, and we found all sorts of interesting animals around and in these wetlands. The Corps of Engineers created these wetlands back in the 1990's, and have also planted lots of prairie species in the surrounding meadows. Today, we can enjoy the fruits of their labors, as this meadow is full of interesting animals.

Jaret Daniels holds up a Spicebush Swallowtail, Papilio troilus, that he captured for the group to study. It was released unharmed, and was one of many in the meadow. Jaret is at the University of Florida, and Director of the Florida Museum of Natural History's McGuire Center for Lepidoptera & Biodiversity. We're fortunate that he likes Ohio; he's been up here a number of times in the past decade to help out with events like this one, and share his vast knowledge.

Jaret found this tiny Red Admiral, Vanessa atalanta, egg on a False Nettle, Boehmeria cylindrica, plant. It takes a sharp, trained eye to spot such minute objects. The egg taxed the limits of my 100 mm macro lens, but we can see some of its ornate sculpturing. It looks like a bluish-green barrel with prominent ribs. Red Admiral butterflies, which are among our showiest species, depend on several species of nettles for their host plants, demonstrating that even maligned native plants are quite valuable to fauna that is much appreciated by humans.

We encountered this cooperative pair of Eastern Tailed-Blues, Cupido comyntas. They were rather preoccupied with making more butterflies, which allowed our large group to closely admire them.

The wetlands were awash with dragonflies of many species. Best was a brilliant male Comet Darner, Anax longipes, but he was not as cooperative as this comparatively tiny Azure Bluet, Enallagma aspersum.

We ran across a pack of Hickory Tussock Moth caterpillars, Lophocampa caryae. working over a Black Walnut, Juglans nigra. These cats are quite showy upon close inspection.

All of the native plants that filled the meadows provided a bounty of nectar for native pollinating insects such as this Potter Wasp, Monobia quadridens.Scores of native bees, flies, wasps, beetles, butterflies, moths and other insects were seen. This wasp is on the flowers of Rattlesnake-master, Eryngium yuccifolium, a native member of the parsley family and a plant that attracts scads of interesting pollinators.

The wetlands produced a bumper crop of Northern Leopard Frogs, Lithobates pipiens, and Mike Zimmerman managed to snag one for the group's inspection. As I said, little escaped our notice or failed to capture our interest. Given the abundance of insect life in the meadows, I'm sure these frogs won't be lacking for food.

Thanks to everyone who came out, and I'm sure we'll be doing more such events in the future.

This is the approximate view from my office, in a very urban part of Columbus, Ohio. In 2012, this lush growth of wildflowers was barren mowed lawn, largely lacking in life. BORING, and not at all environmentally friendly.

I approached the powers-that-be, and cajoled them into allowing us to work with Bob Kehres and Ohio Prairie Nursery to plant the one-third acre grass-scape to prairie. We did so in May 2013, and Voila! I took the photo above today, of the prairie in its second growing season. An incredible transformation has taken place, and the prairie will only grow better with age, like a fine wine.

I try to take a few minutes to stroll the prairie, camera in tow, at least once a week. I'm very interesting in documenting the profusion of life that has resulted from removing a lawn monoculture, and replacing it with numerous species of plants that are (mostly) indigenous to this area.

The cast of new characters is already lengthy: moths, butterflies, hemipterans, beetles, bees, wasps, flower flies, and much more. We have even had a male Indigo Bunting hanging around the prairie this summer, a first summering record for our 22-acre complex. As he regularly sings from the boughs of a Honey Locust on the prairie's border, I assume that our new planting has created a good enough food source to keep him happy. Hopefully he'll eventually find a mate.

Today's brief foray was noteworthy for the number of dragonflies and damselflies that I observed. There were Widow Skimmers, Eastern Forktails, Common Whitetails, Halloween Pennants, Common Green Darners and Black Saddlebags, and others that I'm probably forgetting. I don't even know where all of these dragons and damsels are coming from. We have two small wetlands elsewhere on the complex, but I doubt they are producing all of the insects that I saw today.

In the above photo, a beautiful Familiar Bluet, Enallagma civile, makes mincemeat out of some tiny victim. It was one of many bluets hunting the prairie today.

I was especially pleased to see several female Eastern Amberwings, Perithemis tenera. The females of this species seem to be wasp mimics, with their banded abdomen and habit of constantly twitching their tail end in the manner of a wasp.

Amberwings do reproduce in the wetlands on our complex, but they require surrounding buffer meadows to truly flourish. After mating and laying eggs, many female dragonflies leave the wetlands and the ruthless pursuit of the males that gather in such places. Providing an insect-rich prairie nearby is sure to lure lots of predatorial dragonflies, and my short trip into this prairie today provided ample proof of this.

If you plant it, they will come. I look forward to seeing that other wondrous beasts turn up in our prairie as the season progresses.

A Wood Frog, Lithobates sylvatica, peeks from a leafy shelter in a Geauga County woodland. These small frogs are conspicuous in early spring, when mating orgies occur in vernal pools. The males belt out their ducklike quacks, which can be heard for considerable distances.

As spring progresses, and rolls into summer, the frogs become much less conspicuous. One occasionally encounters a Wood Frog by sheer happenstance, as we did in this case.

I dropped to the leaf litter, to see if the little frog would allow me better views, and photos. It did, and we can see the ornate detail that makes the Wood Frog one of our handsomest amphibians.

A Lesser Grapevine Looper, Eulithis diversilineata, rests under your narrator's porch lights.

I found myself chained to my desk today, writing, writing, writing. Come nightfall, I took a break to see if any interesting lepidopterans had stopped in at the porch lights. Sure enough, the little oddity above was camped out on the wall. I was quite pleased, and rushed to get the camera. Lesser Grapevine Loopers are common, but I had no good photos of one, and here was the opportunity to remedy that!

Note the bizarrely curled abdomen, a very distinctive posture in this species. I suppose it is some sort of disruptive camouflage, perhaps making the resting moth appear more like a leaf with attached petiole. It certainly makes the moth an interesting photographic subject, if you ask me.

Shooting moths at night is always a challenge. Flash is essential, and it must be set properly for best results. For these shots, I used my Canon 5D Mark III, set on full manual, with the following settings: f/11, shutter speed of 1/200, and ISO at 100. Most importantly, the Canon Twin Lite flashes were mounted at the end of the 100 mm macro lens. The flash was set to ETTL mode, which it allows it to "talk" to the camera and meter the perfect amount of light.

No matter what your rig, as long as you can control the camera's settings manually, you can improve your nighttime shots. Find out what the camera's sync speed is - the fastest shutter speed that it will shoot at while using the flash. If you exceed the sync speed, the resultant photo will be partially blacked out or the camera won't shoot at all. Set the camera to f/11 (maybe f/8 on some point & shoots), ISO to 100, and the flash (built-n or external) to ETTL mode. Voila! You should end up with nicely exposed images, although some tweaking may be required.

The Lesser Grapevine Looper is one of a large cast of characters that depends on native grapes in the genus Vitis, and Virginia Creeper, Parthenocissus quinquefolia, for survival. Remove these plants, which are all too often derided as weedy, and take away the food source for legions of caterpillars.

I've written about the value of grapes and their kin RIGHT HERE.

A summer would be incomplete without a visit to the scraps of remaining prairie west of Columbus. A few sites like the above, tiny 1/2 acre Bigelow Cemetery, are all that remain of the formerly vast Darby Plains, which covered some 385 square miles. My generation must make do with postage stamp-sized museum pieces. Once Deere unleashed his chisel plow, game over for the prairies. What was once a botanical wonderland full of an incredible floristic diversity, with attendant abundant animal life, has been pulverized by the plow. Over 99% of Ohio's original prairie has been converted to the Big Three: corn, soybeans, and wheat.

I still greatly appreciate what we have left. Bigelow Cemetery, which dodged the plow as burial grounds are sacred, and the cemetery was established before farmers had gotten around to plowing up all of Madison County, was looking good. I was there yesterday, and reveled in the mid-July explosion of prairie plants.

Purple and Gray-headed coneflowers, Wild Bergamot, and Royal Catchfly paint the tiny cemetery in a rich palette of colors.

The Royal Catchfly, Silene regia, is exceptionally vigorous this year. This is a prairie plant if there ever was one. If you see Royal Catchfly, and it's growing wild, you are in a prairie, or at least the remnants of one. Whenever I see this beauty, I take photo after photo, trying for the perfect image. Yesterday, while standing quietly composing images, my frame was photo-bombed by a female Ruby-throated Hummingbird. Alas, before I could react and snap her chin-deep in a catchfly flower, she noticed me and shot off, scolding your narrator with a barrage of angry squeaks.

Where the coneflowers and catchfly end in the above photo, beans and corn take over. And stretch for miles and miles in all directions. What collective fools we are, as a species, to destroy so much of our richest (former) natural resource. You'd think we might have saved - not to be greedy or anything - maybe five (three? two?) percent of it. What a richer Ohio we'd have.

Enough of lamenting the stupid follies of our imperfect primate past. You owe yourself a visit to Bigelow Cemetery, soon. While the catchfly still blooms. More info on this pioneer cemetery HERE.

Another prairie shard that I visited was Milford Center Prairie in Union County. This scrap, like the cemetery, exists largely by accident. A railroad bisected the prairie at this point, and the buffering right-of-way was spared the plow. After the tracks were yanked, a utility acquired the right-of-way and installed power lines, thus keeping the plow at bay.

There is apparently a mass synchronous bloom of Royal Catchfly, because it also looked as good as I have ever seen it at this spot, too. NOTE TO MANAGERS: Milford Center Prairie really needs a good fire. Maybe next fall or spring...

Nearly overshadowed by the botanical extroverts was this diminutive little plant, the Hairy Ruellia, Ruellia humilis. What an ungraceful common name - and common names are quite important! Another option with a bit more pizazz might be "Prairie Petunia".

I was pleased to be strafed by this F-15 of a butterfly, the Silver-spotted Skipper, Epargyreus clarus. He finally settled on a leaf, and seemingly entranced by my macro camera rig, allowed me right up into his grill. Normally this species, the largest of our skippers, is rather wary and close approaches can be difficult. I was grateful for his cooperation.

Less cooperative, strangely enough, was this Exposed Bird-dropping Moth, Tarache aprica. Normally the animals that mimic bird droppings - there are scores - sit and pose quite nicely. They are apparently confident in their resemblance to fresh Blue Jay splat. Very few things enjoy eating bird droppings, so if you can do a good scat imitation, your chances of survival rise.

I had to stalk this moth, and after the third flush it finally allowed me in close enough to obtain this one image. After making my photo, it vanished into the thick prairie vegetation from whence it came.

One can only imagine my pleasure at stumbling into this black and scarlet beast. It is a Poison Ivy Sawfly, Arge humeralis, and the animal is quite the showstopper if you ask me. As you may have inferred from the name, the larvae of this species - they greatly resemble caterpillars in appearance and behavior - feed on Poison Ivy. As if you didn't already like this bug.

The sawfly is standing on a rich carpet of Queen Ann's Lace flowers, and was busily working them over. Note how its head is liberally encrusted with pollen. Forget the European Honeybee - all manner of native bees, wasps, flies, beetles and others do the heavy lifting when it comes to pollinating our native plant crops.

Both of the prairie remnants that I visited host lush beds of this plant, Scurf Pea, Orbexilum onobrychis, and the plants were adorned with both flowers and fruit.

It didn't take much searching to uncover one of these beautiful polka-dotted caterpillars. It is the larva of an as yet to be described species of flower moth in the genus Schinia. I recently shared photos of the moth IN THIS POST. I had discovered this species in Milford Center Prairie two years ago, and it seems to be doing well. Yesterday, in short order, I found six of the caterpillars, and didn't check the vast majority of host plants that are present.

Our yet to be named flower moth caterpillar is a finicky eater. Scurf Pea is its only known host. Not only that, but the cats eat only the innards of the fruit. In the above photo, the caterpillar has bored a round hole through the fruit's wall and is vacuuming out the contents. Wedding oneself so tightly to one plant species is generally a bad strategy. If some other animal comes along and destroys 99% of your habitat, your fortunes will plummet. I've written more about this rarity HERE.

While perhaps the most humble of the flora and fauna featured in this post, I was most excited to find this tiny flake of a moth. It is a true rarity, perhaps even scarcer than the previous Schinia flower moth. This one does have a name, though: Coppery Orbexilum Moth, Hystrichophora loricana. The animal in the photo was at Milford Center Prairie, and it was the only one that I saw in spite of an hour or so of searching. Laura and David Hughes had discovered it there last year. I also found one, only one, at Bigelow Cemetery yesterday, adding Madison County to its range.

The Coppery Orbexilum Moth was originally discovered near Dayton, Ohio in 1880, and was described to science from that specimen. Then it dropped off the radar for about a century, until an entomologist found a few small populations in southern Illinois. John Howard found a couple populations in Adams County, Ohio, and a lepidopterist also located some of the moths in Kentucky. A few years ago, I stumbled into one in a prairie near Dayton, and was able to photograph it. I'll have to try and unearth the moth's original description sometime and see if I can ferret out exactly where in Dayton the original collection was made. Maybe I refound the site. Anyway, insofar as I know, those are all of the known occurrences of this inconspicuous little moth.

I'm glad we have spared a few little scraps of prairie for the moths, and the scores of other flora and fauna that are prairie-dependent.

Ah, the beautiful little prairie at work! I've written about this one-third acre transformation of barren turf grass into biodiversity boiling over before, HERE. Today, I trotted outside for a brief 15-20 minute photographic interlude, and was rewarded with something rather cool.

Among the many native plants in our prairie patch, all provided by Ohio Prairie Nursery, is this little gem. It's Partridge Pea, Chamaecrista fasciculata, a showy pinnate-leaved beauty. It is easy to grow, quick to arise, and pleasing to the eye. Insects also find it pleasing to the palette, as we shall see.

The rich lemony blossoms are offset by chocolate-brown stamens dangling from a crimson bulls-eye. An arrangement sure to lure winged pollinators. And any would-be pollinating insect would be wise to arrive by air. Partridge Pea has made a long-term co-evolutionary pact with some serious six-legged tough guys to keep ne'er do wells out of its foliage.

An ant (I don't know the species) clambers about a Partridge Pea plant. It was one of many on the plant that I chose to photo-document. We have lots of these plants in our prairie, and I suspect all of them were inhabited by ants.

We are not here, in this photo, to look at this ant. We'll look at ants in a bit. I draw your attention to the tiny cuplike appendage on the leaf's petiole, upper lefthand corner of the photo. Note the glistening reddish syrup within. The petioles (leaf stalks) of all the leaves are similarly adorned with these cups, which are known as extrafloral nectaries. A great many flowering plants are laden with intrafloral nectaries - sweet nectar rewards hidden within the flowers. They are there to entice pollinators into the bloom, where they will be dusted with pollen and thus complete the plant's pollination process.

Extrafloral nectaries are far scarcer, and arguably far more interesting.

Ah! One of our ants has found an extrafloral nectary, and is lapping the secretions within like a dog at a bowl. Extrafloral nectary nectar is basically supercharged plant sap, rich in fructose, glucose, various proteins, and amino acids. Utterly irresistible to ants. Plants such as the Partridge Pea, that are stippled with extrafloral nectaries, are apt to loaded with ants. The ants scurry busily from nectary to nectary, and in between they race about the rest of the plant in their quest for more of the sweet stuff.

The impact of this ant army? An incredibly effective deterrent to any wannabe defoliators such as caterpillars or other insects that would damage the plant. If the ants detect a threat to their spoils, they will launch a brutal attack and drive off or kill the interloper. This behavior, of course, greatly benefits the plant and is an excellent example of a mutualistic relationship: both organisms in the partnership benefit.

Numerous studies have been done on ants and extrafloral nectaries, and most have found that plants with ants suffer less grazing damage, and also generally produce better fruit crops, than plants without ants. Some investigations have suggested that plants with extrafloral nectaries may also benefit by keeping ants away from the flowers. Ants are probably not great pollinators in general, and can spook legitimate pollinating insects from the flowers, rob nectar with no reward for the plant, and possibly damage reproductive tissues. But probably the main goal of possessing extrafloral nectaries is to in essence hire a team of ferocious, fearless six-legged body guards to safeguard the plant.

Plants protect themselves in numerous ways: production of various compounds that ward off herbivores; thorns; development of difficult to digest fibrous products such as lignin, etc. But few protective strategies top the complex active defense system brought on by development of extrafloral nectaries. This defense system isn't particularly common; for instance, of the 330 or so species of Chamaecrista worldwide, only about 26 have evolved extrafloral nectaries.

While ants are clearly the primary target of the nectaries, they also attract other predators such as jumping spiders. The spiders will apparently sip at the nectaries, and are drawn to plants that sport them. Having a jumper or two hanging out in your foliage is a good way to help keep plant-damaging insects at bay. I photographed this jumping spider (species unknown) on Tuesday in a prairie with plenty of Partridge Pea close at hand. I didn't see it visiting nectaries, and didn't know that they would do so until doing some research for this piece. I'll be more alert in the future and try to photo-document a jumper sipping from a nectary.

Partridge Pea is in full bloom now. If you're around some of these plants, have a look to see if ants are working the extrafloral nectaries.

Be warned, I have a new lens and things might get weird on here from time to time. Above, the superb Canon MP-E 65 mm f/2.8 macro lens. This is truly one of the most bizarre lenses out there, and it probably isn't for the faint of heart. I went back and forth on getting one of these for the last year, finally bit the bullet, and received mine yesterday. Using it is like shooting images through a microscope. It'll zoom to five times life size, allowing for photography of the tiniest objects imaginable. There is no focus ring - one must just move the camera to and fro until the target comes into focus. Good flash gear is a must. So little light gets through its small opening that the photographer typically must pre-light the scene just to find the subject.

But I knew about all of these quirks going into this, and was prepared. I was down at Wahkeena Nature Preserve in Fairfield County last night, and got ample opportunity to test out the MP-E 65. A few of the inaugural photos follow.

A clutch of Hickory Horned Devil eggs. These tiny moth eggs will spawn what will become our largest caterpillar, a beast the size of a small hotdog when fully grown. But at the egg stage, things are VERY small. An egg might be a millimeter or so in length. The whitish eggs are young; the dark egg on the right is dark because it is filled by a young caterpillar about to burst to freedom. The translucent egg on the left is just a shell - a cat has already chewed its way out.

A very young Hickory Horned Devil, probably hours from the egg. It was just a few millimeters in length, and not really identifiable for what it is with the naked eye. Note that its ornate barbed spikes are well developed - these are formed within the egg.

Thanks to Robyn Wright Strauss at Wahkeena for allowing me to shoot images of her caterpillar livestock.

For comparison with the MP-E 65 shots, this is a close-up, also made last night, of a Bad-wing moth, Dyspteris abortivaria. This image was shot with my Canon 100 mm macro lens, a superb piece of hardware but not nearly as capable at drilling down into the weeds as the MP-E. With the latter lens, I could frame-fill one of this moth's olive-green eyes. On the flip side, the mega-macro lens could never show this much of the moth, even when zoomed all of the way out.

I'll look forward to delving deeper into the Lilliputian world with my new lens.

A small knot of birders takes a break from oohing and aahing over a trio of very rare birds (for Ohio) in the wetland in the backdrop.

Last Friday, I got a phone call from Larry Richardson, the guy in the foreground with the yellow cap. Larry, who is one of Ohio's ace birders, had just discovered three Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks, Dendrocygna autumnalis, along with Don Keffer (in the red shirt). As good fortune would have it, I was heading to Geauga County the next day to give a talk and lead a walk. Larry and Don had found the ducks at the sprawling Grand River Wildlife Area in Trumbull County, and the site was only about a half-hour from where I was speaking.

So, after the program/hike concluded, I raced over to the ducks and was greeted by Larry soon after arrival.

The 7,500 acre Grand River Wildlife Area is dotted with wetlands. The marsh in this photo is where the whistling-ducks are hanging out. They are actually there, in this photo, but some distance away as you can see. By the way, for any rare bird chasers, they were still there today and may stay for a while. Details are regularly posted on the Ohio Birds Listserv.

This photo and the following will win no awards - I didn't even bother imbedding my copyright/name (steal away, photo pirates!). But nonetheless, they are good for at least two lessons. One, bad as they may be - the distance and low light were too much for even my 500 mm lens - they clearly show three Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks.

And two, these photos will be among blizzards of images that have been made, or will be, of these birds. Photographic documentation of rare birds has come a long way in the past decade. I served for seven years as secretary of the Ohio Bird Records Committee, which validates sightings of rare birds. I also served a three-year term before becoming secretary. In that decade span, from 1995 to 2004, I saw the number of photographic submissions begin to spike noticeably. The number of rare birds that are documented photographically is FAR higher now than when I left the committee. Even bad images that clearly show the bird in question make life much easier for rare bird record committees. In the olden days, we often had to try and decide upon records based only on a written description, and often not a very complete or comprehensive one at that.

This photo is even worse than the previous. I made it by putting my iPhone up to Larry's scope and snapping the shutter. Still, it demonstrates the absolute ubiquity of cameras. Nearly everyone has a phone with camera these days, and even those can be used to gather documentary photos. Rare is the rare bird that goes un-photographed in this day and age, giving us much more solid evidence in regards to rare avifauna.

There have been only four records of truly wild Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks in Ohio, counting these (which I would have no reason to believe are anything but wild). Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks are commonly kept in captivity; read about one that was later definitively proven to be an escapee RIGHT HERE.

Larry Richardson, remarkably, has found two of Ohio's records of this species. Read about his previous whistling-duck discovery HERE. Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks range throughout much of South America and Central America, and in the United State occur regularly in the southern Gulf States and parts of Arizona. This is a duck on the move, however, and it is actively expanding its breeding range northward. As the population swells, so have the extralimital records. All of Ohio's have come within the last decade. I think we can expect to see even more of these gorgeous ducks in the future.

Congratulations to Larry and Don for an excellent find, and for so quickly sharing the news with the birding community.

A pair of Festive Tiger Beetles, Cicindela scutellaris, makes love in the sand. If all goes well, they will spawn some of the most ferocious, nightmarish larvae that ever was.

There are about twenty species of tiger beetles in Ohio, and all of them are formidable hunters. If you have an eye for insects, you've probably seen some. Most common is the Six-spotted Tiger Beetle, Cicindela sexguttata, a glittering emerald-green beetle that frequents paths, woodland openings, gravel lanes, and other open habitats. All of the tiger beetles hunt by sight, as you might have guessed by the giant goggle eyes of the beetles in the photo. One would not want to be a potential victim in a tiger beetle's sights. They are said to be among the fastest land animals, proportionate to their size, their long stiltlike legs capable of propelling the beetle in astonishingly rapid bursts.

One prey is caught, it is sliced and diced with the beetle's long tusklike mandibles. While the adult beetles sound like bad news for victims, they're nothing compared to their larvae. I was recently with Laura and David Hughes, and they were kind enough to bring along a trio of tiger beetle larvae that they had captured and were keeping in captivity. Thus, I was able to make some images of these terrifying predators; something I had long wanted to do.

This hole in the sand is the lair of a tiger beetle larva (we're unsure of the species). It is about the diameter of a pencil, and would be easy enough to overlook. Laura and David found the beetle larvae on the gravel bar of a river - typical habitat for several species of tiger beetles. The larvae prefer loose sand for their burrows; sometimes clay or other types of soil.

Wait! Something has appeared at the burrow's entrance! I'll tell you this right now, you wouldn't want to be small, and near enough to catch this mini-monster's eyes.

We zoom in, feeling fortunate that we aren't small enough to make a meal. This is the flattened head of the tiger beetle larva, which neatly caps the burrow entrance like some sort of murderous, living manhole cover. The beast is at an angle in the photo, with its mandibles protruding towards the bottom righthand corner of the photo. The "face" is above those - sort of heart-shaped, and separated from the rest of the head by a gap. Look closely and you'll see a set of eyes in each corner of the face, and another set of eyes below those.

The beetle larva's tactic is to remain frozen in place and flush with the ground. When an unsuspecting ant, or anything small enough to be overpowered moseys by, watch out! The larva will burst from the hole with impossible speed, and grab its victim. The fringe of white cilia-like hairs ringing the head may be there to help defend against the larva's predators. It doesn't matter how bad you are, there will always be something out to get you. In this case, it is certain parasitoid flies and wasps that atempt to get their eggs down in the hole with the tiger beetle. The eggs hatch quickly, and the parasitoid's larvae begin to consume the beetle larva. Perhaps those hairs, which form a sort of fence around the hole's perimeter, reduce the chances of this happening.

We extricated one of the tiger beetle larvae temporarily, so as to see it in all of its majesty. It's about an inch long, and the body, which is normally concealed, does look very much like a beetle grub. But it's as if some mad scientist has welded a Ceratops dinosaur head on the thing. As Dave Hughes said, they resemble one of those dragons in a Chinese parade. Note its formidable mandibles, excellent for seizing and dispatching prey.

About two-thirds the way down the larva's body is a humped area crested with stiff bristles and two stout upcurved hooks. In the event the larva seizes something powerful enough to pull it from the soil, these hooks and bristles anchor it firmly against the burrow walls, preventing extrication. The whitish junk by the lower hook is a few sand grains.

Note the beetle grub's powerful legs. It also uses these to secure itself in the burrow, and apparently to launch mad jumps. When disturbed above ground, the larva can spring itself wildly in the air in the blink of an eye.

Before long, the grub began trying to tunnel itself back under the sand. It is using its strong mandibles to excavate its burrow in this shot.

Well. You just never know what might be lurking underfoot. My appreciation goes to Laura and David for making this photo shoot possible, and for sharing their tremendous knowledge of natural history with me.

Photo: Bill Fisher

Bill Fisher, Director of the Crawford County Park District, sent along a photo that really grabbed my eye. It is a snow white Cardinal-flower, Lobelia cardinalis, and as can be seen by its normally colored cohorts, this is atypical. Bill made the photo a day or two ago at their Lowe-Volk Park, where it is growing in the "pollination station".

If you're in the area, stop in and see it. Might be a while before you see another. I can't tell you how many hundreds or thousands of these plants that I've seen over the years, but never a white one that I can recall. Such a form is rare, but occurs with enough regularity to have an official designation: Lobelia cardinalis forma alba. It'll be interesting to see if white ones pop up in this patch in future years.

A quartet of extinct birds (L to R): Passenger Pigeon, Carolina Parakeet, Ivory-billed Woodpecker, Eskimo Curlew. You, I, nor anyone else will ever get to see one of these species - they're gone, for good.

The pigeon was once an overwhelmingly abundant bird in Ohio, and elsewhere in its range. The Carolina Parakeet was at least locally common in Ohio; the last wild flock here was seen in 1862 in Columbus. The last living specimen died in the Cincinnati Zoo in 1918. Ivory-billed Woodpeckers probably did not occur as far north as Ohio (even though it is on most checklists for the state, based on archaeological evidence); it probably blinked out in the mid 1900's. Evidence suggests that Eskimo Curlews regularly migrated through Ohio, at least in small numbers. Market hunting did this species in, and there have been only few and scattered reports since the 1960's. Hope still flickers, very faintly, that the curlew may still survive.

Photo: Wikipedia

This is Martha, the last surviving Passenger Pigeon. She died on September 1, 1914, in the same Cincinnati Zoo that housed the last Carolina Parakeet. This year is the centennial of her passing, and the extinction of a species that once numbered in the billions. Some believe that the Passenger Pigeon population outnumbered all other bird species in North America, combined. Had you witnessed the flocks of two hundred years ago, neither you nor any of your comrades would have ever predicted the pigeon's extinction.

On August 29-30, the Ohio Ornithological Society and the Cincinnati Zoo are hosting a Passenger Pigeon Symposium at the zoo. The keynote speaker is Joel Greenberg, whose excellent book A Feathered River Across the Sky came out earlier this year. This book is the best work on the story of the pigeon ever done. Other speakers include legendary wildlife artist John Ruthven, the Cincinnati Zoo's Dan Marsh and Brian Jorg, and I will give a program about the possible relationships that existed between the Passenger Pigeon and Cerulean Warbler.

There will be birding trips to nearby Fernald Nature Preserve, nocturnal forays including mothing, and the Friday night shindig will even include music by the Rain Crows!

You won't want to miss it. All of the details, including registration information, are RIGHT HERE.

The 6th annual Midwest Native Plant Conference took place this weekend, and what a great time it was. For the fifth year in a row, we centered the event at Bergamo Center on the sprawling grounds of Mount St. John, just outside of Dayton. CLICK HERE for the conference website and all of the details.

As has been the case every year, the conference filled to capacity, which is about 170 people. I think we could make it larger, but bigger is not always better and none of us involved in its planning wishes to move it. The venue is perfect. A big thanks to everyone who works hard, and more or less all year, to make this thing come together. Keynote speakers, numerous concurrent breakout sessions, field trips, multiple vendors of native plants, numerous other exhibitors, meals - all of the things that make for LOTS of work and planning.

As is often the case at these conferences, I get so busy with this, that, and the other thing that I never pull out the camera to photo-document the event. So all I come away with, photo-wise, are some images from field trips that I was on. At least I can share some of those.

We always do night trips on Friday and Saturday night. Thanks to Don Geiger's efforts, the grounds of Mount St. John (150 acres!) are rich in native plants, and we always find lots of interesting things. The last several years, I have been fortunate to co-lead these forays with Lisa Rainsong, Wendy Partridge, and at least one of the two trips, Judy Semroc. Little escapes their notice. Following are some photos from our two evening trips.

This is a subadult Wheelbug, Arilus cristatus - death in the flowers. These assassin bugs are always crowd-pleasers; all the more so when people learn of their gruesome killing tactics. Wheelbugs stalk their victims - usually lesser insects - pounce, and stab the prey with that powerful hypodermic needle of a proboscis that is folded beneath its head. Chemicals are injected which liquefy the prey's innards, which are then sucked back out through the same proboscis.

Caution is required when alighting on a flower, if you are a small pollinating insect. These are the disk flowers of a False Sunflower, Heliopsis helianthoides, and a small ambush bug in the genus Phymata awaits a victim. Its orange eyes lend a rather ominous appearance to the animal, as do those powerful Popeye forelegs. When a moth or some other insect lands, the ambush bug will lunge, and dispatch it in much the same way as described above under the Wheelbug.

Lisa Rainsong is one of the foremost experts on "singing insects" - the Orthopterans. It is always a delight, and a robust learning experience, to spend time afield with her. Visit her blog, RIGHT HERE.

The conference grounds are rich in singing insects, and we always focus on them on our nighttime trips. We want to help people tune in to the sounds of the night and the insects that create the symphony. The conehead katydids are always popular, and I suspect that some of the uninitiated think that we are pulling their legs when we talk about them. So, we always do our best to go into the meadows and capture one, and that's what we've done here. This is a Sword-bearing Conehead, Neoconocephalus ensiger.

Last evening, as we investigated a night light, lo and behold, there sat a huge and very fresh Polyphemus Moth, Antheraea polyphemus.These giant silk moths are stunning, and so large that they can be mistaken for bats when they fly. Some sort of millipede has photo-bombed the picture - far right side.

The Polyphemus was a male, and here is a close-up of one of its antenna. A majestic work of art and much resembling a fern, this sensory organ can detect the female's pheromones from perhaps a half-mile, maybe farther.

As I was leaving the conference this morning to head to Cedar Bog to lead a post-conference field trip, someone tipped me to these moths. I was delighted to see that they were Honey Locust Moths, Sphingicampa bicolor. Not only that, it was a mating pair, and the female was somehow already dumping eggs. Perhaps one of my moth ranching friends can explain this.

There are numerous Honey Locust trees close at hand; in fact, some of them were overshadowing the native plant vendors where the moths appeared. It's in those trees where the caterpillars were probably feeding. The moths were found on one of the plants that was for sale at a vendor's booth.

When our group arrived at Cedar Bog, we were shown this beautiful chrysalis. I think it was found by Jill Michaels at her property, but I'm not sure. Anyway, it is that of a Question Mark butterfly, Polygonia interrogationis.Note the beautiful silvery splashes on the side, as if a welder slopped some molten silver onto the structure.

We soon headed into the bog via its boardwalk, where we spent an all too quick four hours finding scores of interesting plants and animals. This Tawny Emperor, Asterocampa clyton, was exceptionally cooperative.

I suspect that one could easily heap 100 or more of these flowers on a quarter. It is the bloom of the Virginia Stickseed, Hackelia virginiana, and the blossom is so tiny that it would go unnoticed by the vast majority of passersby. When seen well, it proves to be an interesting and ornate flower worthy of our inspection.

The Ground-nut, Apios americana, was in full flower and this one bowled people over. The strange pinkish flowers are fascinating in shape and color. It's worth a visit to Cedar Bog in the next few weeks just to see them, but if you go you will see scads of other stuff.

Thanks again to all of the speakers, organizers, field trips leaders, and attendees who made for another great Midwest Native Plant Conference. And big thanks, as always, to everyone at Bergamo Center for the great hospitality and flawless service.

Planning has already begun for the 2015 conference, and I hope that you can make it.

An "ancient" female Ruby-throated Hummingbird, caught and banded by Allen Chartier, proved to be eight years, one month of age. Photo courtesy Allen Chartier.

BANDS PINPOINT OLDEST OF BIRDS

Columbus Dispatch
Sunday, August 3, 2014

NATURE
Jim McCormac

I recently received an email from Allen Chartier, a hummingbird expert who lives in Michigan, bearing news of an old bird. He had captured a ruby-throated hummingbird in his home state that proved to be 9 years, 1 month old — the oldest ruby-throat on record.

Chartier had caught the bird in 2006 — it was already an adult — and placed a tiny metal band with unique coding on its leg.

Hummingbirds typically burn up quickly. Most chicks don’t survive their first year, and of those that do, a life span of a few years is probably the norm.

Chartier’s bird was a Methuselah among hummingbirds and has made many journeys to Central America, where ruby-throated hummingbirds spend winter. Chartier estimates that the nickel-weight bird has traveled more than 36,000 miles, and she isn’t done yet.

Two days after capturing the bird, Chartier caught another female that was 8 years, 1 month old.

The science of bird banding — placing metal rings on the banded bird’s leg — provides much of the data regarding bird longevity. The U.S. Geological Survey’s Bird Banding Laboratory oversees bird banders and keeps records. Thanks to its workers, we have a much better idea of how long wild birds live.

Most songbirds don’t survive their first year. Only about 25 percent of American robin fledglings survive until November the year they hatch. Those that live longer can expect to last about 1.7 years. Thus, a robin in California that lived to be 13 years, 11 months, defied all odds.

One of the oldest birds ever documented was a Canada goose right here in Ohio. It lived to be
33 years, 3 months.

That pales in comparison with the true ancients of the bird world: the albatrosses. A female Laysan albatross dubbed Wisdom was first banded as an adult on Midway Atoll in the Pacific Ocean in 1956. She still returns to nest and successfully fledge chicks. Wisdom is at least 63 years old.

Wild birds face a life fraught with peril: predators galore, brutal weather, diseases, parasites, and man-made threats including tall buildings and vehicles.

The oldest known wild orchard oriole lived to be 10 years, 11 months. A female of the same species, found injured as a fledgling, was kept captive and free from the usual threats by Ohio artist Julie Zickefoose. It survived to 17 years of age.

Many longevity records derive from birds that were banded or recovered in Ohio, including the following:

• Great horned owl: 28 years

• Tundra swan: 25 years, 3 months

• Great egret: 22 years, 10 months

• Blue jay: 17 years, 6 months

• Turkey vulture: 16 years, 10 months

• Barn owl: 15 years, 5 months

• Chimney swift: 14 years

• Indigo bunting: 13 years, 3 months

• Common nighthawk: 9 years

• Cape May warbler: 4 years, 3 months

Naturalist Jim McCormac writes a column for The Dispatch on the first and third Sundays of the month. He also writes about nature at www.jimmccormac.blogspot.com

Swamp Milkweed, Asclepias incarnata, a beacon for pollinating insects and a big producer of Monarch butterflies.

Mark your calendars for Saturday, September 13. That's the date of the annual Ohio Sustainable Landscapes Conference, hosted by Dawes Arboretum in partnership with the Licking County Master Gardeners. All of the details and registration information ARE HERE.

Dawes Arboretum, for those of you who have not been, is an 1,800 acre paradise. Located just south of Newark, it is easy to reach from everywhere, and once on the grounds there is plenty to do. The arboretum strikes an excellent balance between formal gardens and wild natural areas, and as a result teems with biodiversity.

Eastern Tiger Swallowtail caterpillars, Papilio glaucus, require native trees as host plants, including ash and tuliptree.

The symposium features a fine lineup of speakers (present company possibly excluded), including horticulturist Solomon Gamboa. He'll be talking about his efforts to work with the citizenry of Cincinnati to come together to forest the Queen City.

Megan Palomo is coming all the way from the fabulous Phipps Conservatory in Pittsburgh. She'll be discussing the creation of backyard ecosystems, and how that benefits not only the homeowner but the world beyond.

If all goes well for the aforementioned swallowtail caterpillar, it'll morph into one of these beauties. Tiger Swallowtails are addicted to Joe-pye-weed, and if you've got it in your garden, you're sure to attract any local tigers.

Dawes also managed to wrangle Bill Dawson, of Columbus's own Franklin Park Conservatory. Bill will present a program on community gardens, their exponential growth in Ohio's capital city, and the good that they do.

Scaly Blazing-star, Liatris squarrosa, is botanical candy for butterflies and moths. Any blazing-star will greatly enrich a yardscape.

Finally, your narrator will be on hand and prepared to wax eloquent (to the extent possible) about the wonderful world of moths and butterflies. One could reasonably state that no group of insects has the impact of this bunch. Their caterpillars are intimately tied to vegetation, and with a bit of knowledge a person can essential garden for a crop of favored butterflies - or moths.

Possessed of an almost otherworldly appearance, this freshly emerged Pandorus Sphinx, Eumorpha pandorus, would catch and hold any eye. Its host plants? Good old wild grapes, and Virginia Creeper. Grapes and their kin are super natives that produce an extraordinary array of moths. Grape specialists will factor into my story, in which I will explore the amazing world of moths and butterflies, their enormous ecological roles, often breathtaking beauty, mind-blowing adaptations, and how we can help them out.

I think you'll really enjoy this conference, and the opportunity to spend time at Dawes Arboretum. Space is most definitely limited, so you'll probably want to sign on soon. Again, all symposium details are RIGHT HERE.

Your narrator wrestles with two savages that collectively outweigh him, and that's saying something! This pair of St. Bernards are named Chloe and Lula, and they're a barrel of laughs. Nothing like a 130 lb. dog that thinks she's a puppy and deserves to jump in your lap. And two of them means double the fun!

The dogs belong to John Howard, a familiar name to regular readers of this blog and students of the natural sciences statewide and beyond. John lives in Adams County, smack in the middle of some of the richest biodiversity east of the Mississippi River. There is nowhere in this great state that I'd rather go, partly because the prospects of incredible new finds, whether they be plant or animal, always loom large. And on this trip, we scored big.

I'm bookended by two of the best, most well-rounded naturalists that I know, David and Laura Hughes. The three of us joined with John last Saturday to investigate some interesting Adams County habitats. First, we had to get out of John's "yard" and that took a while. We found lots of cool stuff there, and Laura and David brought some very interesting animals that required lots of photographing. I'll hope to share some of that stuff in the future.

David served as my counselor/therapist when I was trying to decide whether to acquire Canon's remarkable (and costly) MP-E 65 macro lens. It's a very niche lens, but if you're into macro and shoot Canon, it'll eventually be a must-have piece of hardware. Dave already had one, and after a lengthy talk with him I pulled the trigger and got one. We're holding our macro rigs in this shot, and made good use of them on this day. Laura, by the way, is holding a spectacular female Hercules Beetle, Dynastes tityus.

Our destination was a prairie barrens not dissimilar to the one in this photo. Such habitats are full of biodiversity, often including many rare (sometimes VERY rare) species.

David and Laura work a borescope, while John kneels at the ready with his camera. A borescope is a highly specialized instrument that sports a long flexible tube with an amazingly good camera at the tip. One can thread the tube into nearly any nook or cranny, and built-in lights illuminate whatever lurks within. The operator controls the camera - which shoots stills or video - from the box that Laura is holding. Only the most serious of explorers of the natural world have such a tool, but that's Dave and Laura.

We'll stick the borescope in anything that looks interesting, but in this prairie we had a specific target in mind. Missouri Wolf Spiders, Geolycosa missouriensis.These big spiders create round burrows in the ground, and hole up in the depths during the day. At night, they come to the entrance and dash out to kill any unfortunate victim that bumbles too close. Most of the burrows that we inspected had a spider in residence, and it is really cool to see them come into view as the camera snakes its way into the inky depths of the burrow.

After a bit, we came across a burrow that was HUGE - three times the diameter of those of the Missouri Wolf Spiders. Excitement reigned, as we had some idea as to what the occupant might be. The camera was quickly readied and plumbed down the hole, and you can see the result on the borescope's screen.

Yes! We knew we weren't looking at a Missouri Wolf Spider; this thing was significantly larger and quite grayish. Laura popped off many photos and a lot of video of the animal as it glared at the camera. By now, we were relatively certain that we had made an exceptional find.

Eventually the jumbo spider got ticked off by the intrusive tube, and began to lunge at it. Laura played it like a cat lured by a string, and slowly teased the spider to the burrow entrance. This photo shows the spider at the burrow's mouth. Note its impressive orange chelicerae, or fangs. The tube is the borescope, and that burrow is big enough to stick your thumb in and not touch the sides. A penny provides scale.

We had rediscovered the Carolina Wolf Spider, Hogna carolinensis, which had not been seen in Ohio for over 60 years. At one time, going back nearly a century, this was considered a common wolf spider in Ohio. Spider expert Richard Bradley (CLICK HERE to see his excellent new book) believes that it could not cope with intensive agriculture and other habitat alterations, and thus disappeared from much of its former range.

The spider eventually came completely out of the hole and allowed us to view it in all of its gigantic splendor. According to Rich Bradley, this is a male, and possibly not a fully mature individual. Carolina Wolf Spiders can live for several years. Just imagine, the females are significantly larger!

We called Richard Bradley that night, and quickly sent him photos for confirmation. We're grateful for his comments about this species, and for confirming the identification. Our find was made at the end of the day, and thus we ran out of daylight before we could scour the prairie for additional spider burrows. There must be others, and you can believe searches will be organized before long.

Chance favors the prepared mind, and even though rediscovering this spider was not even on our minds, all of the necessary ingredients were present. Rich had educated us all in year's past about the Carolina Wolf Spider, and what its burrows looked like. John and I had sought it before in places that we thought looked good, but obviously with no luck. However, as soon as we saw the burrow we thought about this spider. Without the Hughes' borescope, it wouldn't have been possible to confirm the spider without a serious intrusion on the animal that involved shovels, and we wouldn't have wanted to do that.

Many of you who read this - if you made it this far! - will wonder why it isn't a GOOD thing that this spider went missing. To me it is fantastic to know that the largest wolf spider in North America lives on in Ohio. It is a high-end predator and such animals often serve as excellent early warning systems when things go awry with the environment. This Carolina Wolf Spider, and I suspect any others that we discover, live in some of the rarest and most interesting habitats in the Midwest. Within feet of the spider's burrow were several state-listed rare plants, and the general area is loaded with rare species. The spider is one of them, and an integral part of the relict prairie in which it occurs. I'm very glad that this site is owned and protected as a preserve by the Cincinnati Museum and The Nature Conservancy. Most of our prairies were not protected, and that's why many cool animals such as the Carolina Wolf Spider have become critically endangered in Ohio, along with a raft of plants.

Video by David and Laura Hughes

Click on the video to see actual footage shot through the borescope before we teased the spider out. Ignore our excited chatter. We were already discussing how to get our evidence to Rich for confirmation.

A typical scene at the "sand spit" at Conneaut Harbor, Ohio. Conneaut is wedged into the extreme northeastern corner of Ohio, on the shore of Lake Erie. It is a legendary birding locale, and in this photo birders mingle with legions of typically much more intrusive users of the harbor. John Pogacnik and I had led this trip to Conneaut last fall, and we saw lots of interesting birds. But both birds and birders must dodge numerous cars and other vehicles on the sands, wind-surfers soaring over the waters, bird-chasing dogs roaring about, and a host of other people-related disturbances.

In spite of its activity, the sheltered sandy flats in the Conneaut Harbor manage to serve as refugia for migrant shorebirds. Many of these sandpipers and plovers are making long-distance hauls from the highest regions of the Arctic tundra, where they breed, to places as distant as South America. Small birds that engage in annual journeys that span great distances need places to stop, rest, and refuel, and Conneaut provides such a way station. At least intermittently, as the birds are frequently disturbed by the seemingly ever-present people and their attendant hijinks.

Photo: Dane Adams

On July 31 of this year, Dane Adams found the bird above at Conneaut, an absolutely stunning juvenile Piping Plover, Charadrius melodus. He graciously allowed me to share his beautiful image. Note all of the multicolored bands festooning the bird's legs. The colors and combinations of those bands allow the bird to be specifically identified, thus enabling researchers to track its movements.

Piping Plovers have not fared well against the onslaught of Homo sapiens. There are three core breeding areas for the tiny plovers: the Great Plains states and adjacent Canadian prairie provinces; the Atlantic coast; and sandy shores of the Great Lakes. Collectively, probably fewer than 6,000 birds still exist. People love beaches, and human excesses have driven obligate beach-nesting bird species such as the Piping Plover away from numerous historical nesting grounds.

All populations have declined considerably, but the Great Lakes Piping Plovers have really taken it on the chin. In 2013, only 66 pairs were documented as nesting, and they fledged a grand total of 124 chicks. That was actually a good year, for recent times. The vast majority of these nesters were on Michigan beaches, with the largest aggregation in the vicinity of Sleeping Bear Dunes on Lake Michigan (23 pairs in 2013). In fact, eight days prior to Dane's find, another Piping Plover stopped in at Conneaut and it proved to have come from a Sleeping Bear Dunes nest.

Thanks to the work of Bob Lane, who tracked down the specifics of Dane's bird using the band combination, we know that the bird was born this summer on beaches near Wasaga Beach, Ontario, Canada. That's on the southern lobe of Lake Huron's Georgian Bay, and about 175 miles due north of Conneaut. As only a few pairs of the Great Lakes Piping Plover population nest in Canada, this little bird is a rarity indeed.

Here's hoping the charismatic, diminutive plover (one weighs about the same as a plump strawberry) makes it safely to its winter destination - beaches of the southern Atlantic or Gulf Coast. And then returns to the Great Lakes to successfully nest, and produce more charming little plovers.

A stately Sycamore, Platanus occidentalis, rises from rich alluvial soils along a stream. White and brown barked Sycamore trees are easily recognized, and are the most conspicuous tree that defines the channels of creeks and rivers. They also play host to a variety of wildlife, some of which are Sycamore specialists, such as the beautiful Yellow-throated Warbler (at least in this part of the world).

While far less obvious than the aforementioned warbler and much better at hiding, this furry caterpillar is even more of a Sycamore associate than the warbler. It is a Sycamore Tussock Moth caterpillar, Halysidota harrisii. Insofar as I know, Sycamore is its only host plant.

I got an email a week or so back from a work colleague, Katie Thierolf, letting me know that she had seen numerous of these caterpillars at the state fairgrounds. Being unable to make a trip down there, I implored her to wrangle some of the cats into a jar, and bring the captured livestock back to the office so I could make some images. She did so - thank you Katie! - and some of the images and a story follow.

Sycamore Tussocks might be mistaken for the far more wide-ranging Banded Tussock Moth caterpillar, Halysidota tessellaris (above), which feeds on a great variety of plants. However, the caterpillars are easily distinguished by the color of their lashes - whitish to cinnamon-brown in the Sycamore; black in the Banded. Sycamores also have a denser furrier appearance to me, perhaps because their clumps of setae (hairs) are more tightly spaced. So the two species of caterpillars are easily separated. Not so the adult moths, as we shall see.

Sycamore Tussocks are interesting in that they have great color variation - one might think these were two separate species. A crop of eggs can produce caterpillars that range from lemon-yellow to gray to white.

It took a bit of wrestling around with these guys, and a lot of wasted shots, but we eventually managed some nice side by sides. These are handsome beasts by any standard of furry tubular beauty.

As an aside, this is what the underside of a Sycamore Tussock Moth caterpillar looks like. There are eight pairs of legs, as we can clearly see. The orange head of the animal is at the left and there are three pairs of thoracic legs just to the rear. The four pairs of legs in the center of the body are known as anterior prolegs, and the pair at the back of the cat are the anal prolegs.

In tight on the anterior prolegs, which are extremely grippy. These powerhouse gams do the bulk of the work when it comes to securing the caterpillar to twigs or foliage, and their sticking power is astonishingly strong. Just think about a brutal thunderstorm with attendant gale force winds. The caterpillar must do its best to ride out such storms and remain in the tree, and these legs are how they do it.

Katie brought me the caterpillars towards the end of the day, and their photo shoot had to wait until the next day. The three cats were secured in a large jar and well provisioned with fresh Sycamore foliage. Caterpillars essentially do two things - eat, and poop. In Lepidopteran parlance, caterpillar poo is known as frass, and the pile of frass above was generated overnight by the trio.

We go in tight on the frass, just because we can. It looks like tiny rabbit pellets. Believe it or not, there are small animals that mimic the look of frass pellets to perfection, and I just happen to have some good photos of one of these beasts, made last weekend. If not preempted by something cooler, I'll share that critter in the next post. But then, what could possibly be cooler than an animal that is the mirror image of a frass pellet?

I mentioned earlier that Banded and Sycamore Tussock Moth caterpillars are easily told apart, but the moths that they morph into are not. If the moth above came to the attention of most moth enthusiasts, I suspect that they would call it a Banded Tussock Moth, in part because that is the species included in field guides. But the Sycamore Tussock Moth is identical in appearance. Insofar as I know, no one knows how to tell the two apart except by a minute examination of the genitalia, even though it is easy to differentiate the caterpillars. So to be technically accurate, one must pronounce such a moth a "Banded/Sycamore".

Rachel Shoop, a biology student at Marietta College, is studying the DNA variation in these species. Perhaps, as part of her work, she will also unearth morphological characters that will enable us to visually separate the two. Such knowledge will make life more satisfying for moth-ers at the mothing sheets.

Oh, the caterpillars used in this shoot were released into a Sycamore tree at our office complex. Hopefully they will establish a local colony of Sycamore Tussock Moths.

Hummingbird clearwing moths

A gallery of moths, from Mothapalooza

Tricolored Bats!

Butterfly Workshop recap

A prairie comes to life

A Wood Frog, in the woods

Lesser Grapevine Looper

A trip to the prairies (or what's left of them)

Plant hires ant bodyguards

A MEGA macro lens

Black-bellied Whistling-Ducks!

Tiger Beetle larva: Absolutely ferocious!

A white Cardinal-flower

Passenger Pigeon Symposium: August 29-30

Midwest Native Plant Conference recap

Bands pinpoint oldest of birds

Ohio Sustainable Landscapes Symposium

Carolina Wolf Spider rediscovered!

Piping Plover braves Conneaut!

Sycamore Tussock Moth caterpillars