Goatsbeard gone to seed, SGL 117, 6 June 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
10 June 2023
Goatsbeard (Tragopogon dubius) lived up to its name this week as it showed off its huge fluffy seed head at SGL 117 in Washington County, PA.
Nymphal froghoppers known as spittlebugs hid under foam while sucking plant juice at Frick Park.
Spittlebugs, Frick Park, 8 June 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
A fluffy white substance that looked like fungus may well be insects — perhaps woolly aphids (“boogie woogie” aphids) sipping sap from a cut branch.
Are these aphids
Canadian wildfire smoke made for eerie an sunrise on Thursday morning. My photos of it were anemic. Check out Dave DiCello’s instead. Click on a photo to enlarge it.
'The blood moon rises once again…'
Not really. But the sun looked eerie as it rose behind the smoke from the Canadian wildfires today in #Pittsburgh. The smoke and haze are supposed to get worse as the day goes on, so stay safe out there. So weird to see the city like this. pic.twitter.com/nZKJEg6R1f
First instar spotted lanternfly on a metal chair, Phipps patio, 4 June 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
5 June 2023
If you noticed spotted lanternflies (Lycorma delicatula) in Pittsburgh last summer you remember seeing this one-inch long insect.
Spotted lanternfly adult, 23 July 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
But they don’t start out this big.
Right now they are tiny black nymphs with white spots. I saw one perched on the edge of a metal chair yesterday at the Phipps BioBlitz and moved closer to confirm its identity. As I approached it jumped so far I couldn’t find it.
I tracked it down and smashed it with my shoe … and immediately wished I’d taken its picture. I found another one (there are lots of them) and learned how to get close enough for a cellphone photograph without making it jump. Not a sharp photo but you get the idea.
First instar spotted lanternfly on a metal chair, Phipps front patio, 4 June 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
The first instar(*) nymphs are tiny — just 1/4 inch long — and well camouflaged, even on a silver chair.
Ruler showing size of spotted lanternfly first instar (photo by Kate St. John)
Walking and hopping, they look for something to suck on, primarily Tree-of-heaven (Ailanthus altissima) but they are generalists so they’ll eat anything that appeals to them. Fortunately they are only deadly to Ailanthus and grapevines.
As they feed on plants the insects grow and change through various stages of development. The first, second and third instars continue to be black nymphs with white spots, just progressively larger [B]. The fourth instar is a red nymph with white spots at 3/4 inch long [C].
Right now they’re so small they are easy to overlook. When the one-inch-long flying adults emerge in July-to-September this invasive insect will be hard to ignore.
(*) Definition of instar. noun, ZOOLOGY. A phase between two periods of molting in the development of an insect larva or other invertebrate animal. — from Oxford Languages via Google
(photos by Kate St. John, life phases photos from Penn State Extension)
The bug shown below is a ladybug nymph, seen at Betty Rowland’s in Squirrel Hill. (Thank you, Lisa Ann Simpson, for identifying this nymph. Click here to read about them.)
A ladybug nymph, Squirrel Hill, 1 June 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
Many insects were in a flurry of mating, swirling in stacks over Nine Mile Run.
A swirl of insects in the sun over Nine Mile Run, Frick Park, 1 June 2023 (video by Kate St. John)
Thanks to readers’ helpful comments I now have IDs for the insect photos!
And on a bird note: I’ve noticed low numbers of swallows this spring compared to years past. Who will eat the flying insects? Are you missing swallows, too?
Periodical 17-year cicada, Washington Cemetery, Washington, PA, 30 May 2016 (photo by Kate St. John)
It’s been seven years since the 17-year cicadas (Magicicada sp.) emerged in Washington County, Pennsylvania.
Back in May and June 2016 Brood V blanketed parts of West Virginia, Ohio and the bottom left corner of Pennsylvania. This video shows what their emergence was like in Ohio at Cuyahoga National Park.
Butterflies first evolved from moths when they began feeding on the nectar of new species of flowering plants usually available during the day. That shift allowed these insects to shed their earth tones in favor of the riot of colors they’re known for today, which often act to attract mates or warn predators that they’re poisonous.
The butterfly-moth connection makes sense but the place where it happened is a surprise. Scientists used to think butterflies originated in Asia, but Kawahara’s study shows they evolved 100 million years ago in western North America or Central America and then dispersed throughout the world.
The maps below show their dispersal and species counts over time (darkest colors are the highest number). Starting 100 million years ago in the Americas, butterflies first jumped to Australia and from there to Asia, Africa, and finally Europe.
Squirrel outside my 6th floor window, 4 May 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
8 May 2023
I live on the 6th floor of a high rise so I was startled to glance out the kitchen window last Thursday and see the back end of a squirrel. I know squirrels can climb but this one had to scale a brick wall, climbing more than 60 feet without the help of anything. No exterior fire escapes. No nearby trees. Nothing but bricks and window ledges.
The wall the squirrel had to climb, 5 May 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
When I saw him on my windowsill he was looking in the direction of a bird feeder more than 100 feet away on the building next door. City squirrels walk wires to cross the street so maybe he thought he’d find a wire connecting the buildings. No such thing.
He contemplated his exit. “How did I get here? How do I get back?”
Squirrel contemplates getting down from here, 4 May 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
He must have figured it out. He was gone the next time I looked.
On a hike at Hays Woods last week with Jared Belsky of the Pittsburgh Parks Conservancy we saw odd holes on a bare spot of ground, each one surrounded by a dust cone shaped like a tiny volcano. I could tell they where probably made by insects but which ones?
Cellophane bee holes at Hays Woods, 24 April 2023. My foot is in the photo for scale (photo by Kate St. John)
Cellophane bees (Colletes inaequalis) are the first bees of spring, sometimes emerging while there’s still snow on the ground. They are members of the group called “plasterer bees” (Colletes sp.) described by Wikipedia below:
The genus Colletes (plasterer bees) is a large group of ground-nesting bees of the family Colletidae that occur primarily in the Northern Hemisphere. They tend to be solitary, but sometimes nest close together in aggregations. Species in the genus build cells in underground nests that are lined with a cellophane-like plastic secretion, a true polyester, earning them the nickname polyester bees.
Coltsfoot blooming in Schenley Park, 1 April 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
8 April 2023
This week the temperature stayed above freezing (until this morning) and set a record 85ºF on Wednesday. On a walk in Schenley Park last Saturday 1 April I saw coltsfoot in bloom, Virginia bluebells in bud and flowering Norway maples.
Virginia bluebells about to bloom, Schenley Park, 1 April 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
By the end of the week the city’s Norway maples had bloomed enough that their profiles looked like green balls instead of stick trees. You’ll can see this on the slope of Mt Washington as viewed from Downtown or the Bluff.
Norway maples flowering, Schenley Park, 1 April 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
By mid week it was sunny and HOT.
On Wednesday 5 April I visited the Lake Trail at Raccoon Creek State Park to find newly arrived Louisiana waterthrushes (). Near one of the singing birds was a puddle of trilling and mating American toads. I recorded their sound and added a my (lousy) photo of mating toads + a Wikimedia photo of the Louisiana waterthrush when he sings in the recording. You can also hear the wind on the mic.
video by Kate StJohn Birdblog on YouTube
Also at Raccoon: spring beauty () and yellow corydalis (). I wish I could have stayed longer.
Spring beauty, Raccoon Creek State Park, Lake Trail, 5 April 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)Yellow corydalis, Raccoon Creek State Park Lake Trail, 5 April 2023 (photo by Kate St. John)
It’s Spray Your Clothes Day (photo by Kate St. John)
27 March 2023
The worst part of Lyme disease season has just begun so let’s learn how to avoid it.
From spring through early summer the tiny nymphs of black-legged ticks (Ixodes scapularis) quest for blood meals from animals and humans. Only the size of poppy seeds, the nymphs are really hard to see. If an infected tick bites you, it will give you Lyme disease bacteria.
To prevent the debilitating disease, don’t let ticks get on your skin.
Choose outdoor clothing that prevents ticks from reaching your skin:
Light colored clothes: So you can see ticks easily.
Long pants.
Long sleeved shirt with collar + tuck in your shirt: Collar traps ticks before they walk up your neck.
Socks: When you bushwhack or garden, tuck pant bottoms into socks.
Once a year (i.e. now!) Spray your outdoor clothing with Permethrin. I know from personal experience and the experts agree that Permethrin works much better than DEET. Spray protection lasts 4-6 washings. Pre-treated clothes can last 70 washings. READ AND FOLLOW LABEL DIRECTIONS.
If you find a tick remove it correctly (here’s how) and save it for testing. Send it here and they’ll tell you if it carries Lyme disease.
Black-legged ticks are active year round when the temperature is above freezing. If you wear protective clothing — yes, even in hot summer — you’ll save yourself a world of trouble. See more tips here.
p.s. There are lots of ways to outsmart ticks. Did you know zip pants trap ticks under the zip placket?
p.s. Be careful with Permethrin. READ AND FOLLOW LABEL DIRECTIONS. To avoid fumes and protect kids and pets, spray your clothes outdoors on a windless day and wear rubber gloves. Keep Permethrin away from the cat (see label).
Deer in Schenley Park, Aug 2022 (photo by Kate St. John)
20 March 2023
Black-legged tick season is here again and with it comes the threat of Lyme disease. We now find ticks in neighborhoods where they never used to be and white-tailed deer are the reason why. More abundant deer mean more ticks. More abundant ticks mean more Lyme disease. Though deer themselves don’t spread Lyme disease they have an effect on its abundance. Let’s examine the Deer, Ticks, Lyme connection.
Lyme disease is a debilitating illness caused by a bacteria (Borrelia burgdorferi) that’s transmitted by the bite of a black-legged tick.
Black-legged ticks (Ixodes scapularis and Ixodes pacificus) have a two year life cycle as egg, larva, nymph and adult. At each stage the tick must drink a blood meal to transition to the next one — from larva to nymph, from nymph to adult, and from adult female to produce eggs. (Note: Ticks eggs do not carry the Lyme bacteria.)
When a tick bites a host and sucks its blood it takes up the host’s blood and transfers some of its own body fluids into the host. If the host is infected with the bacteria, it infects the tick. If the tick is infected, it infects the host.
Deer are the adult ticks’ preferred host and their long distance transport system. Deer bodies are the place where adult ticks meet and mate in the fall. After mating the male dies but the female lives on. She sips a last blood meal, then drops off to the ground and hides in leaf litter while her body develops eggs over the winter.
Adult ticks meet in the fall during the rut while deer are moving around a lot. Bucks average 3-6 miles per day but may travel as much as 10-20 miles in search of does. Does may travel to meet or evade them.
Deer in western Pennsylvania (photo by Steve Gosser)
Meanwhile ticks are along for the ride. When a pregnant female tick drops off after her last blood meal she may be 3 to 20 miles from where she started and she’s carrying 1,000 to 3,000 eggs that she’ll lay in the spring.
