Luna Moth

Turn off outside lights at night.  This Luna Moth damaged a wing while fluttering in confusion against a floodlight.

Whenever a Luna Moth is glimpsed, it is a blessing. This one appeared in Clay County, Florida, February 2011

    

     You remember your first.  I was a swimming instructor at a North Carolina 4-H camp.  Beneath a canopy of trees, in the sultry summer night, I gazed at the glow of the Staff Cabin’s porch light.  I was transfixed, enthralled by the sight of a wild being too beautiful to exist.  I was afraid to move lest I break the spell and cause the creature to vanish.   I widened my eyes and expanded my awareness, trying to imprint the moment on my brain.  When I became confident that the animal would linger, I ran to summon another camp staff member.  He identified the object of my amazement - a Luna Moth.  Vivid, lime green with an improbably long, decorative tail, this moth seemed more like an artistic paper sculpture than an insect.

     My reaction to the Luna Moth is not unique.  In Discovering Moths:  Nighttime Jewels in Your Own Backyard, John Himmelman writes,  “The Luna Moth does something to me.  It hits me deep down in a place where I accept the existence of magical things.”   I totally agree.

     The Luna Moth, Actias luna , is in the family of Giant Silkworm Moths.  In the southeastern U.S., the Luna Moth has two generations.  Adults that emerge in the spring will have purple, pink or brownish wing margins.  (The one I photographed emerged in February and clearly has purple margins.)  Those emerging in the summertime will have yellow wing margins.  Luna moths don’t eat or drink and survive only for a week or two.  They live to mate and lay eggs on leaves of host plants:  sweetgum, blackgum, pecan, persimmon, walnut, hickory, birch & oak.   Bright green caterpillars form silk cocoons in leaf litter on the ground.  Pupa will twitch inside the cocoon if disturbed.   The caterpillars do not sting, they are not agricultural pests and the adults are harmless.  Love the Luna!

Frost Flowers

Frost Flower wrapping around a Pentas stem

Frost Flowers on Pentas

Frost Flowers on Pentas

Frost Flowers spread like wings from Pentas

Candy floss, cotton candy, spun glass, ribbon candy, wool roving, spun sugar, spun cotton:  all are ways to describe the delicate, crystal structures called Frost Flowers. 

A cool, rainy day followed by a freezing night provided the conditions needed for Frost Flowers to occur in my garden.  The soil was moist and not frozen.  The plants had viable roots which could conduct water from the warmer, wet soil into the stems.  When the air temperature plummeted to below freezing, the water in the stems expanded and the plants extruded the water.  Countless, tiny threads of ice were pushed out of the plant stem, starting near the base of the plant.  Variations in air temperature caused the waves of ice to bend, curl and twist forming fantastic shapes.  

If you touch a Frost Flower you will feel that it’s not solid like an icicle.  It’s frothy and fragile.  The ice of a Frost Flower will sublimate as the air warms.  Sublimation means that this ice does not bother with melting into a liquid.  From a solid state it will change directly into a vapor.  The magical Frost Flower will literally vanish into thin air.

In Texas, Frostweed, Verbesinia virginica, is known for making Frost Flowers. The common name is a clue!  In my garden, the Pentas produced the biggest Frost Flowers, but I noticed Frost Flowers on Salvia Indigo Spires,  Russelia and Plumbago.  We have had this phenomenon for three mornings in a row.  I noticed today that the white ice crystals began to appear around 0500 hours.  By 0800 hours, my husband and I were taking photos of the curling formations.  By 10:00 o’clock that morning, the ephemeral Frost Flowers had disappeared.

Frost Flowers on Salvia, Indigo Spires

Frost Flowers on Pentas

 

Frost Flowers on Pentas

My husband captured this image of Frost Flower on Indigo Spires

Fox Squirrel

Sciurus niger, the Fox Squirrel

Mama Fox Squirrel has a short tail. The brown glob on the tree is peanut butter.

Mama Fox Squirrel sitting to enjoy her chunky peanut butter.

Fox Squirrel in Burr Oak

I love watching the squirrels at the bird feeders.  We have the russet, amicable fox squirrels as well as smaller, rowdy gray squirrels.   I hung a simple seed feeder from a low branch of a young Nuttall Oak tree which my husband had planted. The branches were about as big around as my finger – just stout enough to support a feeder.

As it turned out, the bird feeder hung opposite one of the other thin branches.  A mama fox squirrel quickly noticed this convenient arrangement.  She regularly came to have breakfast in my garden.  Oh, I knew it was the same fox squirrel because of her unique, acrobatic eating style. 

          Although the feeder was on her branch’s level, it was still about a squirrel’s length away.  She found that she could stretch to reach the feeder with her front paws, while still clinging to the branch with her back paws.  She wrapped her long, bushy tail around the branch for stabilization.  After she grabbed the feeder, she snatched a mouth-full of seeds then swung down and around, 360 degrees, coming  up behind the branch, as though she were a gymnast swinging on the high bar (by her feet).  Back in an upright position, she’d sit comfortably to eat her food.  It was something to watch her do this over and over.  I wondered that she did not get dizzy.

One spring morning the dew was heavy.  The grass was sodden and the tree branches were glistening with moisture.  I saw Mama Squirrel out having her usual breakfast at the bird feeder, swinging circles around the thin branch.

          Later that day I glanced toward the feeder and was disturbed to see a clump of reddish brown fur at the tree branch.  I ran outside to find part of the squirrel’s tail twisted on the branch.  It seemed that with the wet conditions of that morning, something bad had happened.  As she circled the branch, her luxurious tail wrapped around the branch and became wet and tangled.  (Any person who has experienced the misfortune of twirling and tangling a brush in his or her long hair can understand the hopelessness of the situation.)   I do not know, but I think the poor squirrel must have snipped her own tail in the panic to free herself.   I unspun the tail from the branch.  There were seven inches of thick, reddish sable, but beneath the beautiful  hair I could feel  2 inches of boney tail segment.    

Immediately,  I moved the feeder to a better location where squirrels could reach it without gymnastics or injury.  Squirrels use their tails for so many things:  shade, warmth, balance, communication.  Their Genus, Sciurus, means “shade –tail”.  I felt just awful that she had been hurt in my garden.

This distressing episode happened about four years ago.  I am glad to report that Mama Squirrel still comes to my garden to drink from the bird bath and to eat bird seed.  Her bobbed tail is disguised a bit by a growth of longer hair.   Of course, she is still easy to identify. 

Red Admiral

Red Admiral basking on Oak Tree

Red Admiral, Vanessa atalanta,  nectaring at Salvia, Indigo Spires

The Red Admiral's bold markings are distinctive, even at a distance.

The water in the birdbaths had frozen solid overnight and was slowly melting in the late morning sun.   This had been a cold January by Galveston County standards, so I was surprised to see a butterfly nectaring at the blossoms of the indigo spires salvia.  Of course I had to go see who it was, but the critter startled easily and flew away fast.  I dismayed of ever getting a photo.  Fortunately, it settled comfortably on the sunny side of our Nutall Oak Tree.  Spreading its wings wide, with its head toward the ground,  it basked in the winter sunlight and soaked up some rays.  This battered butterfly needed a sip of nectar and a solar recharge.  After a while, the Red Admiral was flying again.   

For that’s what is was - a Red Admiral, Vanessa atalanta,  quite easy to identify once it sat still.  Red Admirals are among the family Nymphalidae, the Brush-Footed Butterflies.   Brush-footed butterflies have tiny, vestigial forelegs.  This is not visible in my Red Admiral photos, but if you look back to my “Fritillary Euthanasia” entry, you may see the reduced front legs.  Another characteristic which you can see are the prominent knobs on the antennae. This species has a huge range - nearly all of North America and parts of Central America. Masses of Red Admirals have been known to migrate south, but adult Red Admirals can hibernate during the winter, as can the pupae.  I am sure in our southern county the temperatures are confusing. Their larval host plants include nettles, Urticaceae,  and other plants in that family.  

Several of my books mention that if you have a Red Admiral in your summer garden, it may regularly rest on your arm or shoulder.  Is this territorial butterfly trying to scare you away from its food source?  Are you a convenient basking spot or it is sipping salt and minerals from your skin?   Either way, how delightful to have a butterfly rest upon you!

Little Hive on the Prairie

Wild Honey Bees, Apis mellifera

Honey Bees Clustering on Hive

Honey bee hive hanging from abandoned oil field equipment.

The dark ball hanging under the center of the broken ramp is the bee colony.

     The Master Naturalists finished sprigging a mess of Eastern Gamagrass and bumping up Yellow Indiangrass seedlings.  We had extra time on this last workday before Christmas, so the Nature Conservancy Technician, Tim O'Connell, treated us to a ride out on the Prairie.  He promised to show us something special.  From the pick-up truck, we saw hawks, sparrows, killdeer, geese, caracaras, and an osprey, but the surprise was a hive of wild honey bees!

     We were in a remote part of the prairie preserve.  Tim pointed out a dark mass hanging beneath a piece of abandoned oil field metalwork.  As we approached, we could see the honey bees clinging to curtains of wax comb.  We moved slowly and kept our distance.  Although it was wintertime, astronomically speaking, the air temperature was in the 70s F,  plenty warm enough for bees to fly in defense of the hive if they perceived us as a threat.

     The Honey Bee, Apis mellifera, is revered on this planet for unsurpassed pollinating skills, as well as honey and wax production.   The subspecies, A.m ligustica, is the most common western honey bee in Texas.  Africanized Honey Bees, which also live in Texas, encompass different subspecies, such as A.m. intermissa.  You cannot distinguish one type of honey bee from another other just by looking at them.     However, the Africanized Honey Bees are much more aggressive in defending their hive than are the western honey bees.

    Wild bees often make their nests in the hollow of a tree;  Live Oaks, which keep their leaf canopy year 'round, are popular.  The bees look for a spot that will be within easy flying distance of water, pollen and nectar.  They also favor a location that offers some protection from the weather.   Because there are not many trees on the Texas City Prairie Preserve, these  insects had to be resourceful.  The colony will live through the winter, surviving the cold days by clustering together.  We were delighted to see this healthy hive of pollinators on the prairie.

This is a brand new subject for me.  If you like, you can read more about bees here:

Texas A&M University Honey Bee Information http://honeybee.tamu.edu/

Texas AgriLife Extension Entomology http://insects.tamu.edu/fieldguide/cimg341.html

Preying Praying Mantis

Big compound eyes and sharp spines on forelegs

Basking in the morning sun; legs outstretched to snatch prey

Praying Mantis Looking like a cosmos leaf and watching the camera

Monarch for breakfast

European Praying Mantis consuming Monarch Butterfly

Where is it?  Some days I spot the European Praying Mantis in the garden and other days I don’t.  Its camouflage is so excellent that I may look directly at the mantid,  glance away at a butterfly, look back - and it has vanished!  Of course, it’s still hanging in the same spot, looking like a leaf and a flower stem.  The Praying Mantis needs this disguise to hide from birds such as Blue Jays and Mockingbirds.  But this insect, Mantis religiosa,  is a large and voracious predator.  Consider this: during a Hummingbird Festival, several of my Master Naturalist acquaintances reported hearing a hummingbird squeaking in distress.  When they investigated the source of the fuss, they discovered a Ruby-throated Hummingbird in the clutches of a Praying Mantis.  They confessed that they did intervene, using a pencil to carefully pry the tiny bird from the mantis’s  grip.   Another Master Naturalist friend recounted that as a child she and her sister would feed raw hamburger to mantids on her front screen door.  Interestingly, the next season, Praying Mantises returned to her screen!  In my garden, I have seen the Praying Mantis devour Green Anoles, bugs, moths, and to my great dismay, a Monarch Butterfly.   After that episode, I was emotionally and foolishly considering a “Praying Mantis Relocation Program”.  I wanted to move it away from the Milkweed Patch to a different part of the yard, but first, I would have to find it.  After two days and no sign of the mantid, I had calmed down.  The Praying Mantis is hunting, hidden in the garden.

Fritillary Euthanasia

Injured Gulf Fritillary on Pentas

Injured Gulf Fritillary

Proboscis partially uncurled

  The silver flash from the folded wings of the Gulf Fritillary (Agraulis vanillae) is usually a welcome sight, but there was something odd about this one clinging to my Pentas.  His behavior was wrong: he lingered too long and he didn’t startle as I passed.  The next morning, I found him on the same plant, dangling precariously from the magenta blossoms.  This did not bode well.  Was he dead?  Was he too cold to be active yet?  At the same moment, another Gulf Fritillary hurried through the garden, spreading his pumpkin-orange wings as he paused to sip from the cosmos.

Buckeye, Sulphur and Tawny Emperor

I have several pretty visitors to show you.

 

This is the Common Buckeye.  When I spot these, they are often on the ground or pavement, basking in the sun. This one was nectaring on yellow lantana when I photographed him.  Since I just planted some snapdragons, I was pleased to learn that snapdragons are one of their larval foods! 

 

 Yellow Butterflies! There are many different Sulphur butterflies in Galveston County.  Usually they are flying so quickly through my yard that I can only say with certainly, "It's a Sulphur."  This fellow basking on the Juniper was still long enough for a portrait. Some Sulphurs lay eggs on my Senna / Cassia tree.

 

This was a surprise sighting for me!  I looked up one morning (probably scanning for hawks) and saw a brown butterfly way up on the gutter.  This is a hackberry butterfly called a Tawny Emperor.  I do not have a hackberry tree in my yard, but I watched her sip condensation from the gutter, as she warmed in the sun.

Funereal Duskywing

This butterfly, nectaring from cosmos in my August garden, could be in formal attire or dressed in mourning colors with a white petticoat showing under the black dress.  It's the descriptively named  Funereal Duskywing with sooty wings and white fringe along the edges of the hindwing.  This lovely Funereal Duskywing , Erynnis funeralis,  is just one example of the skipper butterflies.  Taxonomists do not consider skippers to be “true” butterflies because they differ in so many ways.  For example, skippers look a little like moths with their stocky, feathery bodies and big, cute eyes.   The tip of a skipper’s  antennae has a curved, pointy club. To me it looks like a sickle or a pointed hockey stick.  True butterflies’ antennae do not curve back.   As this Duskywing demonstrates, skippers are usually cloaked in subdued shades of charcoal, chocolate, amber, copper, or bronze.   Larval host plants for the Funereal Duskywing include alfalfa,  indigo, vetch, and rattlebush.  Remember, if you want butterflies, you have to provide food for the babies and nectar for the adults.

Blue Dragonfly

The previous "Obelisking Dragonfly" I dubbed a Blue Dasher even  though he/she was brown and yellow. Some of you wondered about that.  With this posting you can see the namesake!  The male Blue Dasher is a beauty, the color of a clear sky.  Some dragonflies spend most of their time flying, while others perch.  Dashers are perchers.  This smart fellow spends his days poised on a branch of my native salvia where the blue blossoms afford him some camouflage.  The little Blue Dasher, Pachydiplax longipennes, like other dragonflies, will eat what it can catch.  I have seen these guys swoop repeatedly through a cloud of gnats - like sharks through a school of little fish.