Thursday, March 31, 2022

A Microclimate Alive in March

 

Japanese Andromeda, Pieris japonica

Last Saturday balmy weather conditions greeted us on arrival at Halibut Point. Temperatures were in the mid-fifties with very little wind. Down in the hollow where the power plant used to be we found a particularly warm south-facing spot, rimmed protectively on the ocean side by the granite walls of the old quarry train track. In this sheltered arena I spent a long enchantment watching the season's early bug activity on a flowering Japanese Andromeda. This is an exotic shrub, a beautiful introduction that most likely was planted by the Webster family when they owned this place in the '50s and '60s.

Winter Ant, Prenolepis imparis

As I stood there Winter Ants ascended the shrub's branches and foraged over the flowers for whatever it is they find sustaining on the outside of the petals. Their delicate limbs accomplish feats of strength and complexity out of proportion to their tiny structure. This insect species is active outside its nest only during the conditions of late winter and early spring.

Cluster Fly, Pollenia sp

A number of rather housefly-looking individuals zoomed in and out of the scene. They proved to be in the Pollenia genus of Cluster Flies when I queried the BugGuide website. I was informed that ultimate identification to the species level would require examination of the underparts by microscope. Not being a trophy taker for science or other paths of curiosity, I have to be satisfied at the level of genus if not genius.

Kelp Fly, Coelopa frigida

This fearsome-looking fellow turns out to be a Kelp Fly which normally lives, dines, and breeds on the shoreline accumulations of rotting seaweed. It had the genius, I suppose, to take a sojourn from its rough and tumble home to this sanctuary.

Kelp Fly inside a flower

The Kelp Fly was the only insect to actually enter one of the andromeda flower corollas while I was watching. Perhaps it has inborn knowledge or special desires at this time of year.

Versute Sharpshooter, Graphocephala versuta

A harlequin-patterned leafhopper was the most colorful observation during my vigil. Later research revealed that the name 'sharpshooter' comes from the fine stream of droplets it squirts from the back end of its digestive system, and that 'versute' derives from the Latin for 'cunning.'

Quite possibly there is some hilarity behind this naming in the annals of entomologic taxonomy.

Birch Catkin Bug, Kleidocerys resedae

Another early season adventurer is the Birch Catkin Bug, which overwinters in the old fruiting capsules of our native birches and of ericaceous shrubs like the Japanese Andromeda, which it happily found in this unlikely place.

 Digging into the natural history of this bug revealed that, when it emerges from hibernation at this time of year and sets forth to propagate, it emits mating calls using a strigil found on one of the hind wing veins. Perhaps I missed the music because of impaired hearing. Nevertheless there was the novelty of 'strigil' to follow, where I made acquaintance with "a comblike structure on the forelegs of some insects, used chiefly for grooming." In the quiet erudition of classical science this usage comes again from the Latin in reference to "an instrument of bone, metal, etc. used by the ancient Greeks and Romans for scraping the skin during a bath."

 And then there is our fine word "stridulate" which I will give you the pleasure of looking up, if necessary.

Black-capped Chickadee

In the prosaic cycle of life and death at Halibut Point a chickadee appeared alongside me to nourish itself on the emerging insects.

Two days later the temperature crashed thirty-five degrees, postponing my amusements and, perhaps fatally, the avant-garde renaissance of bug life. Or maybe they'll take it in stride, at small sacrifice.






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