Tag Archives: Isabella Tiger Moth

Charles Ilsley Park: Ah, It’s Spring! Oops…No, It’s Not.

March in Michigan is such a tease! We had a glimpse of spring-like weather, but we knew it was too good to last, didn’t we? Winter came roaring back.

Blog and photos by Cam Mannino

I’ve been braving the corrugated potholes of Predmore Road to visit Charles Ilsley Park to see what these back-and-forth changes have wrought – and also to check out some great new nest boxes going up there. As usual, the spring-like weather provided lots of things to see. Winter’s return meant exploring tracks crisscrossing the snow, leaving clues of who’s been out and about when I’m not there.  Presence and absence – sometimes both are interesting!

February’s Big Melt Gave Us a Taste of Spring

The false spring definitely held some surprises! In the center of the park, which was prepared for prairie planting last fall, two huge melt ponds had appeared! What a sight on a clear day, as if the park had suddenly opened two big blue eyes! In the distance, what we took to be a spring when the birding group spotted it last month, was still bubbling from the ground. Our township Natural Areas Stewardship Manager, Dr. Ben VanderWeide, is now guessing that it’s the outlet of a tiled culvert that a farmer had dug to drain these very spots in his meadow for planting. Ben hopes to check it out when the weather’s warmer. Here’s a video of the water bubbling out of the ground on the day I first saw these very large melt ponds. (Sorry about the wind in the microphone!)

On the way into the park, we spotted a creature who, like us, had been fooled by the warmer weather. A Woolly Bear Caterpillar wended its way across the path, hoping to find some sustenance before spinning its cocoon to emerge as an Isabella Tiger Moth (Pyrrharctia isabella). The moth photo below is by Steve Jurvetson (CC BY) at inaturalist.org. (Click on the photos to enlarge them; hover your cursor for captions).

European Starling (Sturnus vulgaris) glistened in the morning sunlight in a tree at the top of the central meadow. In the autumn, starlings molt into feathers with bright white tips, which makes them look spotted all over. During the winter, the white tips wear off (called “wear molt”), leaving their feathers a glossy, iridescent bronze for the breeding season.  Odd to see one all by itself when we so often see them in large flocks.

A European Starling who has lost its winter spots through “wear molt” and is ready for the breeding season.

Tiny yellow-gilled mushrooms covered the slope as we entered the central meadow. Most mushrooms defy identification for me, so if anyone can ID this one, please leave a comment!  Later Reg found an extremely light, two inch ball in the grass – an Oak Gall.  A Gall Wasp (family Cynipidae) laid an egg on an oak last year, and when the larva hatched inside, it injected a chemical into the plant creating a tissue-like secretion that it can feed on until it emerges as an adult wasp. Perhaps, like the Woolly Bear, it may have misjudged its moment! Or the larva may have provided some wintertime sustenance for a bird.

High above, a flock of Sandhill Cranes (Antigone canadensis) called from the chilly, blue sky. Theses ancient birds must have felt the pull of the warming days and ventured north from their winter feeding grounds in Ohio and further south. I love their hoarse, wild calls (click on “Listen” at the link) that sound almost prehistoric.  According to Cornell Lab of Ornithology, these cranes use their extra long windpipes, which extend to their sternum, in order to make that sound. Soon they’ll be performing their graceful mating dances – leaping  whimsically into the air and floating back down with the partners that they choose for life.

A flock of Sandhill Cranes returning from Ohio or further south.

Newly-returned Red-winged Blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus) flashed their  bright red epaulets by hunching their wings, accompanied by a buzzing call  to establish their territories. Some stayed during the winter, but most moved south last fall as the weather got colder. The kwirr call of the Red-bellied Woodpeckers (Melanerpes carolinus) could also be heard in the treetops, as well as its drumming  (click on “drum” at this link), another way of establishing  its territory and attracting a mate.. And Red-tailed Hawks (Buteo jamaicensis) pair up this time of year, soaring and circling lazily in  the rising thermals of warmer air. I’ve read that if you’re lucky, you’ll see them drop their talons in flight, apparently an important indicator that two hawks are interested in each other. Sometimes they even lock talons and tumble together in flight! The hawks I saw were circling high in the sky – out of the reach, I’m afraid, of my longest lens, so please pardon the blur.

Last spring, the birding group saw a female Baltimore Oriole (Icterus galbula) approaching her nest in a tree along the entrance trail. The actual basket-like nest was tough to see among the leaves. But as Reg and I left the park on that cold spring-like day, the nest was visible, sturdily attached to the tip of a branch, having braved the winter winds. She’ll weave a new one this spring from grass, grapevine bark, horsehair, wool, occasionally even recycling materials from a previous nest, according to Cornell’s allaboutbirds.org.

Spring Nest Prep Courtesy of Parks Volunteers

Out in the eastern meadow, we came across two other volunteers, Tom Korb and his nephew Alex Korb, both valued members of the Wednesday birding group. They were making last minute changes to some bluebird nest boxes that Tom’s created for the Oakland Township.  Tom built several nest boxes for Charles Ilsley Park and Draper Twin Lake Park with the talented assistance of Sue Ferko. The picture on the right below shows Tom and Sue installing a nest box at Draper Twin Lake Park last week.

On the advice of birder extraordinaire, Ruth Glass, Tom and Sue also built some Peterson-style bluebird nest boxes that are triangular in shape. Ruth has found that bluebirds seem to prefer the Peterson houses at Stony Creek Metropark. So Ben and Tom decided to experiment by putting up both types to see which ones the bluebirds at our parks preferred. Tom also constructed two nest boxes for for American Kestrels (Falco sparverius), North America’s smallest falcons. Kestrels nest in cavities along wooded edges, so that’s where the new box in Ilsley Park was placed, in the tree line between the central and western meadows. Chickadee houses will soon be installed as well.

You’ll also note that the bluebird houses are installed  in pairs.  The theory is that Eastern Bluebirds (Sialia sialis) and Tree Swallows (Tachycineta bicolor), who often compete for housing, will share space if there are two houses together.  So we shall see! Bluebirds began to investigate Tom’s houses as soon as they were up, and I saw a pair every time I hiked there since. I’ve only seen an American Kestrel once from a distance after a prescribed burn at Bear Creek – so I’m hoping to see a pair at their new nest box sometime soon. (Kestrel photo by Steven Mlodinow from inaturalist.org).

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

And then Winter Staged a Comeback…

Snow and shadows surrounded the melt ponds about a week after the photo posted above at the top of the blog.

On my last trip to the park, everything was silent except for the occasional trill or cluck of the indomitable Red-winged Blackbird and the distant kwirr of the Red-bellied Woodpecker. When I arrived in the late afternoon, no other human had explored the park that day – probably due to that corrugated road! – so the trails were pure white, not a footprint in sight! But clearly, the wildlife enjoyed having the park to themselves after the snow fell.

I quickly spotted the first track of a Coyote (Canis latrans). Canines can’t retract their claws, so in the photo below, you’ll see the two nail marks at the top of the print. The larger pads are located outside, rather than directly below, the smaller pads, which is typical of coyotes. As usual, the prints were neatly placed in a straight line. Our well-fed dogs can afford to wander as they walk, but wild coyotes on the hunt can’t afford to waste energy, especially on cold days.

When I reached the central meadow, I spotted two separate coyote tracks heading east over the hill. One went almost straight up and over the highest park of the hill. The other took an easier route around the lower end.

As I followed the tracks, I imagined what might have occurred. When the snow storm came out of the northeast, a pair of coyotes probably trotted off to the west where perhaps the hill would break some of the wind. And then I came across a sight I’d never seen before. The tracks led to a flat area on the far western meadow beyond the tree line. There the snow had been stirred up near several medium-sized patches of bare earth where the snow had melted off the grass. The bare spots were too small for deer beds and several had clear coyote tracks that appeared to be leading to them. Could this be a group of coyote beds, I wondered?

Coyote tracks led to this area where the snow was stirred up and bare patches showed where the snow had melted. A coyote bed?

That night I researched where coyotes sleep and found that they are known to just lay down in the open as long as there are no humans or other predators to disturb them. And I found Google images of them laying in open snowy fields. Since coyotes are the top predators in Charles Ilsley Park, and humans live a fair distance from this field, I’m guessing that the coyotes crossed the tree line, found a low spot in the field, turned around a few times in the snow the way canines often do, and settled down for the night. But who knows? If anyone has a more accurate interpretation, I’m open to it. Anyway, following the tracks and finding this curious area offered me a fun expedition late on a snowy afternoon.

Another nocturnal traveler left its tracks as well. These small, roundish canine tracks are most likely to have come from a Red Fox (Vulpes vulpes) trotting along a trail on the eastern prairie on the previous night. Its tracks were quite near those of a coyote, and I saw no signs of conflict, so I doubt they ever encountered each other that night. Recently though, Tom Korb did spot the clean skull of what he believed was a Red Fox at Charles Ilsley Park, so perhaps another fox met a coyote at some point! The photo below of a running Red Fox was taken at my home several years ago, so I’m just guessing about this midnight scenario.

red-fox-tracks-ilsley.jpg
The small, roundish tracks may be those of a Red Fox on the eastern prairie at Ilsley
Red fox (Vulpes vulpes) on the run near my home several years ago.

Daytime park residents left their marks as well. I heard but never saw the little creature who I’m thinking left these four tiny tracks – the American Red Squirrel (Tamiasciurus hudsonicus). It saw me before I reached its hideout log, so I’ve added a photo of one who popped up out of snow near my back door a few winters ago. It was looking for birdseed under the snow cover.

And American Crows  (Corvus brachyrhynchos) were strutting about in the snow as well. I saw one dive bombing a Red-tailed Hawk one morning, but it was too far off for a photo. So here’s a shot of two in flight last March and what I believe are the tracks of a crow who left prints of its feet and dragging tail feathers in the snow last week near a tree line at Charles Ilsley Park. Like wolves, crows cleverly walk in a straight line to save energy. Note the big, hooked claw on the back of the foot which indicates that its probably not a turkey track.

Two crows in flight.
Crow feet and tail prints making a straight line in the snow.

Such fun to think of being the only human in the park that snowy afternoon, leaving my big sloppy footprints among the precise and delicate ones of so many wild neighbors! If you’re a more experienced tracker than I am (I’m a novice!), feel free to comment and set me straight!

A New Image of Our Self-sufficient Wild Neighbors

Looking south from Charles Ilsley Park’s northern meadow on a snowy afternoon

March can be a frustrating month.  One day I get to see the Sandhill Cranes bugling overhead. I kneel to watch an unlucky Woolly Bear Caterpillar wend its through wet grass. And a week later, the snow descends again, making life more difficult for the cranes, perhaps deadly for the caterpillar and sometimes less visually interesting for a park visitor with a camera around her neck and three solid months of winter under her belt.

But then I notice the coyote prints trailing up a small hill and follow them to a disturbed patch of ground. Normally, when I hear coyotes howling and yipping near my house in the middle of the night, I picture a small group sitting on its haunches in the moonlight before retiring to a snug den.

Moon rise near sunset at Charles Ilsley Park last week.

But nature has handed me a possible new image of this clever, well-adapted animal that’s moved into my territory the last few years. Now I can envision my coyote neighbors as wild creatures so sure of themselves, of their ability to handle their world, that they can just lay down with their traveling companions, sing together under the moon for a few minutes, then curl up in the snow and drift off to sleep.

That’s probably one of the reasons I spend time in nature as often as I do. It never stops teaching me to pay attention. And it never stops reminding me that human lives are embedded within the lives of a whole panoply of living beings – plants and animals that have adapted to change, survived and even thrived. Maybe we humans, so often resistant to change, can learn do do the same. And that helps me drift off to sleep.

 My sources for information, besides Oakland Township's Stewardship Manager Ben VanderWeide, are as follows: Caterpillars of Eastern North America by David L. Wagner;inaturalist.org;Allaboutbirds.org, the website of the Cornell Ornithology Lab at Cornell University; Wikipedia; Herbarium of the University of Michigan at michiganflora.net.

 

THIS WEEK AT BEAR CREEK: A Chickadee’s “Bed,” plus Insects Alive in Our Wintry World

insect tunnels on tree branch
The filigree of bark beetles on a fallen tree
Cam in red winter coat BC
Blog post and photos by Cam Mannino

During this cold week, when nature seemed pretty hunkered down – and I sure was! – I decided to explore how our local bugs get through the winter.  I’d always thought of insects as killed off by the cold – and many are – but others are biding their time and getting through the winter in surprising ways – like the bark beetle larvae which left their filigree in the fallen tree above.

A Chickadee’s Home for the Night?

But I did venture out at dusk to see if I could spot birds settling in for the night.  And a couple of Black-Capped Chickadees (Poecile atricapillus) obliged by disappearing into a snag.  One let its tail protrude from the hole long enough for me to locate it once it suddenly disappeared!

A closer look at the chickadee's tail coming out of its night-time hole
A chickadee’s tail protrudes from its night-time hole

When I tried lightening this hole on the computer, the little bird appeared to have turned its head straight upward to fit into the hole!  If that’s what really happened, I hope it found a more comfortable place to spend the night once I left. Perhaps just getting out of the cold, though,  is more important than a stiff neck.

Chickadee in hole for the night.jpg
The closest shot I managed to get of the chickadee in its hole for the night.

Now, Concerning the Winter Survival Strategies of Insects…

Bernd Heinrich, in his book, Winter World: The Ingenuity of Animal Survival,  claims“…there is no life-form on earth as diverse, varied, tough, and inventive as the insects. ”   Heinrich’s adjectives – diverse, tough, and inventive – certainly apply to the varied and creative strategies that our Bear Creek insects employ during the winter months!   So now,  while walking along the snowy trails, I can imagine all these small creatures swimming under the ice, tunneling beneath the bark, dozing in tree holes or eating inside plant galls, waiting like we all are, for the burgeoning of spring.

Wasps, Hornets, Bees and Ants:  Long Live the Queen!

This category of insect winter survival has two sub-strategies.  Almost all wasps, hornets and many bees, including our native Bumblebees (genus Bombus),  live only one season.  After mating in the fall, the only member of the hive that survives is the fertile queen.  She leaves  the hive and inserts herself into a crevice in a log or under bark – some moist place in which she won’t dry out as easily in the winter.  If she survives, she rouses in the spring and goes off to find a new nest location, lays eggs and the hive begins again (click on photos to enlarge or hover over them for captions).

European Honey Bees (Apis mellifera)and Ants (family Formiciadae) have a different strategy – staying in the hive with the queen, and protecting her during the winter. Honey Bees eat honey during the winter and they keep their hive and the queen warm by fanning their wings. They were imported from Europe because this survival strategy meant that Honey Bees dependably provided honey and crop fertilization from the same hive year after year.

Ants lower their metabolism in the winter and pile onto their queen in order to keep her warm. I believe I saw evidence of Carpenter Ants (genus Camponotus) in this tree on the western trail through our Oak/Hickory forest last summer and fall.

Carpenter ants
Possible evidence of Carpenter Ants who chew wood to create galleries between areas of their nest and then deposit it outside.

Carpenter Ants don’t eat wood like termites; they chew it to make the galleries that connect parts of their nest, and then deposit it outside. Assuming that these were Carpenter Ants, they will have moved deeper into the nest and are now hibernating together with their queen.

When spring warms a bee hive or an ant nest, bees and ants are ready to go, having survived the winter as adult insects.

Green Darners: Migration

A very small number of  insects migrate much as birds do. Those of you who read the blog this summer will remember that some of the Green Darners (Anax junius) head south in the winter.

Green Darner3
Some Green Darners, large dragonflies, migrate south in the winter and their offspring return in the spring.

According to National Geographic, these large dragonflies build up fat reserves and as cold weather sets in, some of them ride south on a north wind. Like avian migrants, they make stopovers to rest and feed along the way and, strangely, follow  the same flight paths as birds (don’t they worry about being eaten?). But unlike birds, it’s a one-way ticket for these Green Darners. They breed in the south and die and it’s their offspring that arrive the following spring.  Some Green Darners and many other dragonflies, though, use the following strategy.

Damselflies and Most Dragonflies:  Naiads under the Ice

Naiads appear in Greek mythology and children’s books (like C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia) as glamorous winged water nymphs overseeing streams, rivers, and fountains. The naiads under the ice at Bear Creek, however, are simply the homely immature life stage of the beautiful dragonflies and damselflies we see in the summer. In warm weather,  the females lay their eggs on vegetation  in the pond or marsh. Drab, wingless naiads with hooked jaws  hatch from the eggs.  Even in winter, these hungry carnivores are swimming about consuming mosquito larvae and other invertebrates.  After molting up to 15 times (some dragonflies take 3 years to finish molting!), they crawl up out of the water onto a plant, bend backwards out of their exoskeleton in one last molt and emerge in the warm sunshine as brightly colored and patterned dragonflies or damselflies like these:

A Quick Overview Before We Go On:  The rest of the insects I’m exploring here have a four stage development: 1) Fertile females produce eggs; 2) Larvae , which in butterflies and moths are also called caterpillars, emerge from the eggs and eat like crazy; 3) Pupae form. In butterflies, their bodies harden into their pupal form which  is called a chrysalis. Moths and many other insects spin cocoons and go through the pupal stage inside them; 4) Adults emerge from chrysalises or cocoons and mate to start the cycle again.  It turns out that different insects spend the winter alive and well –  but in different stages of development.

Overwintering as Adult Insects:  Mourning Cloak Butterflies

The adult Mourning Cloaks (Nymphalis antiopa) that we see in early spring emerge from bark crevices or trees holes where they hibernated during the winter (those woodpecker holes in snags do a lot of good, don’t they?).

mourning cloak (1)
Mourning Cloaks hibernate in tree holes so they can emerge in early spring to mate.

These early spring butterflies hatched the previous summer. They ate a little and then went into summer torpor, which is called “estivating.” In the fall, the adult butterflies became active again, ate to put on weight,  and settled into a hole to wait out the winter. In the spring, they emerge very early, sometimes when snow is still on the ground, and mate. And their eggs, larvae and pupae  begin the cycle again.

Overwintering as adults gives some butterflies an advantage since in early spring, there is less competition for food (tree sap, decaying matter) and fewer predators, since many birds haven’t yet returned from migration.

Overwintering as Pupae:  Spring Azure Butterflies

According to the University of Wisconsin Madison Field Station website, the tiny lavender/blue Spring Azure butterfly (Celastrina ladon) overwinters in the pupal stage that in butterflies is called a chrysalis. When the female emerges in early spring, she mates within hours of hatching, lays her eggs the next day and dies on the third – an extremely short adult life!

The Spring Azure overwinters, hatches, mates, lays egss and dies in three days!
The Spring Azure overwinters as a pupa.When the adult female butterfly emerges, it mates, lays eggs and dies in three days!

Larvae hatch from the eggs and eat for about a month. Each then forms a pupa (called a chrysalis in butterflies) and the Spring Azure stays in that form from early summer until the following spring! A long wait as a pupa for a very short time as adult mating butterfly!

Overwintering as Larvae (commonly called caterpillars): Bark Beetles and Woolly Bears

This overwintering strategy, like the Queen strategy of bees and ants,  takes at least a couple of forms – staying under bark or freezing solid!

Bark Beetles:  Busy Tunneling Under the Bark

Bark Beetles (family Curculionidae) are tiny insects (about 1/10 of an inch) that can survive the winter as larvae, pupae or adults. They are a major food source for woodpeckers, especially in the winter (so that’s why woodpeckers continuously peck at tree bark!). According to Donald Stokes’ book, Nature in Winter, adult insects bore through the bark to a softer inner layer. The males enlarge a “nuptial chamber” where mating takes place. The females then tunnel out into a branch or the trunk, under the bark, to lay their eggs. The larvae who hatch from the eggs make increasingly larger tunnels as they eat and grow during the winter.

Eventually, they form pupae under the bark from which adults emerge in the spring.  The adults  bore back through the bark and fly off to another tree. According to Wikipedia, some of these tiny insects become pests and kill trees, especially when climate change and other factors promote their survival.  Most, however, tunnel within weak and dying trees or aid in recycling the wood of dead trees.

Woolly Bear Caterpillars:  Freezing Solid!

Woolly Bear Caterpillars are the larval stage of the somewhat drab  Isabella Tiger Moth (Pyrrharctia isabella). These caterpillars, by the way,  don’t predict winter by their bands; they simply molt throughout the summer “becoming less black and more reddish as …winter approaches” (Bernd Heinrich, Winter World).  

Wooly bear
Woolly Bear Caterpillars freeze solid during the winter by supercooling and producing glucose, which works like anti-freeze, and then thaw in the spring to continue their life cycle.

In the fall, they curl up under leaf litter and survive the cold by a combination of supercooling (lowering their body temperature, even below 32 F!) and producing the glucose which functions as anti-freeze – just  like the spring frogs in a previous blog. They can even survive thawing and re-freezing throughout the winter! Their pupae can’t survive the cold, so they wait until late in March before thawing and beginning to spin their cocoons. Continue reading THIS WEEK AT BEAR CREEK: A Chickadee’s “Bed,” plus Insects Alive in Our Wintry World