Sunday, August 15, 2010

Fennel time!

Fennel, Foeniculum vulgare 














A handful of crushed fennel leaves smells deliciously of celery and licorice. 

There is a little patch of fennel among the flowers growing on the extension of Middagh Street that passes over the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway near my home. The plant is tall with pretty feather-like foliage. Its tiny yellow flowers are borne in little bouquets that are technically called compound umbels, like the flowers of parsley and carrots.  Fennel is one of the main flavors in the cordial Absinthe, and it is used in herbal medicine too. The seeds are used as a spice, and some of us eat fennel bulbs and leaves as a vegetable. 

But we are not the only ones who like fennel. Wasps love it! 

On a sunny day a seemingly endless parade of exotic looking insects visits fennel blossoms, each more elegant that the last: thread-waisted wasps, potter wasps, mud dauber wasps, a good compliment of honeybees and bumble bees, and lots of fancy flies come in for a tasty sip of fennel nectar. 

Here are photos of a few recent visitors.



Isodontia elegans -- a "grass-carrying" wasp. 






They got the common name "grass-carrying" because they incorporate grass into their nests. 

Another Isodontia species. 

Polistes dominula -- the reviled European Paper Wasp. 







The European paper wasp is a relative new comer to the United States, introduced from Europe and first recorded in the northeastern United States in the 1980s. It has already gained a bad reputation as a cranky wasp that becomes aggressive toward humans with very little provocation. 

Sceliphron ceamentarium -- a black and yellow mud dauber wasp. 


Eumenes fraternus -- a potter wasp.








Visit this link to see how the potter wasp uses that fancy tail end to build a pot-shaped nest out of mud: 


There is more information about urban insects in my book,  Field Guide to Urban Wildlife, which will be published by Stackpole Books in spring 2011. 

Sunday, August 8, 2010

The Ailanthus Webworm Moth

Ailanthus altissima, the tree-of-heaven.























You may have seen this weedy looking tree growing in a vacant lot, or an alley, or in the space between sidewalk slabs. It thrives in cities and seems able to grow almost anywhere, even out of the sides of abandoned buildings. It has a strong smell that stays on your hand when you crush a leaf.

It's a Chinese native that was  introduced to the United States in the 1700s. It became naturalized and can now be found growing wild all over the country. This is the famous tree that Betty Smith wrote about in "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn."

The ailanthus tree has its own moth, Atteva aurea, the ailanthus webworm moth. The moth holds its wings rolled and close around its body while resting, so it looks a little like a long beetle.

Atteva aurea, the ailanthus webworm moth.













Like many other insects, this one was named after the food it eats -- ailanthus leaves. The "webworm" part of the name refers to its lifestyle during the caterpillar stage. The "webworms" spin silk webs on ailanthus trees and live in groups while eating foliage, like more familiar tent caterpillars.

Ailanthus webworms at home in their silk web.












Like the ailanthus tree, the ailanthus webworm moth is an introduced species. Except for populations native to southern Florida, ailanthus webworm moths came from Central and South America, where they feed on a tree that is closely related to the tree-of-heaven.

The introduced ailanthus webworm moth switched its diet to the introduced ailanthus tree and they took off together across the country.

How convenient!

There is more information about urban insects in my book,  Field Guide to Urban Wildlife, which will be published by Stackpole Books in spring 2011. 

YG8MXP47ACU4

Sunday, August 1, 2010

The false head hypothesis



















The gray hairstreak butterfly, Strymon melinus.

This butterfly often perches upside down. It has tiny tails on its hind wings; when the butterfly is perched it occasionally rubs those wings against each other causing the tails to move. The black spot in the orange area is called an eyespot.

Upside down orientation, eyespot, and moving tails create the illusion of a butterfly's head!

Take another look. If you were a bird intent on eating that butterfly you might take a bite of the false head and be left with a mouthful of tails, wondering what happened, as the butterfly flew off in a totally unexpected direction.

(But some scientists think that birds preferentially attack butterflies from behind and the purpose of the false head is to deflect attacks toward the real head where the butterfly can see them coming.)

Confusing!

There is more information about urban insects in my book, A Field Guide to Urban Wildlife of North America, which will be published by Stackpole Books in spring 2011. 

Sunday, July 25, 2010

It's a fly-eat-fly world

This big bristly robber fly has captured a smaller green blowfly. 

Urban wildlife is not all butterflies and baby birds. I found this pair of flies on one of the rustic log fences of the Shakespeare Garden in Central Park.

The robber fly is a female. We can tell by her scary looking sword-shaped “tail” – it’s really an egg laying apparatus called an ovipositor.

Like other robber flies, she is a predator. She has killed the blowfly. After capture, she pierces her victims with a needle-like mouth and injects deadly saliva that paralyzes and digests. Then she sucks out their liquefied insides like bubble tea. The struggle was all over by the time I got there; she was lingering over her meal.

There are many kinds of robber flies -- over 5000 species worldwide, about 1000 species in North America, and about 100 in the Eastern United States. The one in the picture is in the genus Efferia. Robber flies eat other flies, bees, wasps, grasshoppers, dragonflies and spiders. Prey larger than themselves does not deter them.

Robber flies have bristly mustaches that help protect their eyes and faces when their victims put up a fight. 

We may find robber flies disturbing, but they are considered beneficial because of the insects they eat. Just don’t try to pick one up or it might poke you with its needle-like mouth. 


There is more information about urban insects in my book, A Field Guide to Urban Wildlife of North America, which will be published by Stackpole Books in spring 2011. 

Sunday, July 18, 2010

New Bird!

This immature northern cardinal, Cardinalis cardinalis, showed up on the porch this week. It looks like its dad -- crested and thick-billed -- but it has not yet acquired its adult colors.


This bright male is probably the father. He has been visiting our porch for seeds and peanuts for a few years, especially during winter when food is hard to find and for the last few weeks while he has been feeding his new family. 

The female cardinal is mainly brown like the immature, but she has a bright orange bill and red highlights.

During mating season males often feed females, passing a bit of food from his beak to hers. Cardinal form pairs in spring, when males define and begin to defend territories – like the garden behind our building.

Females build bowl-shaped nests in privet and rose bushes, briars, lilacs, honeysuckle, hardwood saplings, young evergreens, and shrubs. The nest is usually placed between four and five feet from the ground. They build with weed stems, small flexible twigs, bark strips, grass, vines, rootlets, leaves and paper.

Cardinal eggs are dotted, spotted, and blotched with brown on a grayish-white background. Females incubate while males bring food. It's a perilous business; many eggs are lost to cats, blue jays, nest collapse, wind, and other accidents. But cardinals are persistent. It they lose a nest, they build another.

When a clutch of eggs hatches, the female often starts a new nest while the father takes over raising the hatchlings. Two nests mean twice as many trips to my window! Over the last month, the male cardinal has been visiting a few times a day; he sits on the sill looking in, chipping loudly, and waving his wings for attention.

Cardinals are famous for using the same feeding and nesting spots year after year. They can live for more than ten years. We have lots of visits to look forward to!

There is more information about urban birds in my book, A Field Guide to Urban Wildlife of North America, which will be published by Stackpole Books in spring 2011. 

Monday, July 12, 2010

Mallards














Mallard ducklings, Anas platyrhynchos.

A bundle of fuzzy ducklings is probably not the first thing that you picture when you think of New York City's Central Park. This group was resting in the grass by a pond about half a block from the Plaza Hotel.





The mother mallard kept an eye on me while I took photos. 



The ducklings' father may have been among the group of males loafing on the muddy banks of the pond, but he has no responsibility for rearing the youngsters. It's all up to her.



The male mallard has a shiny green head, chestnut breast, silvery wing feathers, and yellow bill.


Surprisingly -- like that guy in the Enzyte commercial -- male ducks have sexual secrets that people (mainly ornithologists) talk about.

To begin with, male ducks, along with their pond mates the geese and swans and a small selection of other kinds of birds, have penises. Most birds do not; they just have single multi-function openings called cloacae that can eliminate waste or transfer sperm at need. Ducks keep their penises discretely tucked inside their bodies when not in use.

But ducks not only have penises -- some of them are famous for having extravagant penises shaped like corkscrews and of disproportionate length. Even the New York Times has written about the Argentine Lake Duck's body-length penis. Scholarly publications describe that duck's sexual behavior as promiscuous and boisterous.

And not only that! During breeding season male mallards often chase females (other than their mates) in pursuit of forced copulations that some ornithologists call "duck rape."

We tend not to pay too much attention to mallard ducks because they are so common. Maybe we should be keeping an eye on them.

There is more information about urban birds in my book, A Field Guide to Urban Wildlife of North America, which will be published by Stackpole Books in spring 2011. 

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Sycamore tussock moth caterpillars

Sycamore tussock moth caterpillars, Halysidota harrisii, are falling out of the trees in New York City this week. This one is crossing paths with a tiny red spider mite. 


I keep finding sycamore tussock moth caterpillars on low stone walls in Manhattan’s Central Park and on the iron fences that surround the lawns of the American Museum of Natural History. 

The caterpillars are covered with white hairs. They have four orange tufts and four white tufts on the front end and a pair of white tufts on the rear. They will eventually grow to be relatively unremarkable yellow moths with pale bands on their wings.

Each time I find one of the caterpillars I look up and see either a London plane tree or an American sycamore – their host plants.

 American sycamores and London plane trees are easily recognized by bark that peels off to leave puzzle-piece patterns of green, cream, and brown on trunk and branches. 



Like many insects, sycamore tussock moth caterpillars eat just a few related plants -- sycamores and plane trees -- and have ended up being named after their food. They eat the soft green leaf tissue and leave behind lacy leaf skeletons made of stems and veins.


Sycamore tussock moths spend the winter in cocoons on host trees. Adult moths emerge in spring. They mate and then lay eggs under leaves and on bark. The eggs soon hatch into a profusion of fancy white caterpillars. By June,  there are so many caterpillars that we notice them falling out of the trees and walking along fences.

The caterpillars we are seeing in Manhattan now will soon make cocoons. They’ll emerge as adult moths in late July and August to mate and lay eggs that will hatch into a second wave of caterpillars at summer’s end. Those caterpillars will make cocoons in September or October and spend the winter inside them -- emerging as adults next spring to begin the cycle again.

There is more information about urban moths and butterflies in my book, A Field Guide to Urban Wildlife of North America, which will be published by Stackpole Books in spring 2011.