Guess what?
I have forty photographs leftover from the last time that didn’t get included in the letter blog and didn’t make it into an extra edition and now, this week, I have eighty-five new photos.
What am I gonna do?
Do you remember I told you last time that this is a net-winged beetle and that I Googled it and saw this bug only it was in a different color?
So here is the net-winged beetle.
They kinda look the same, don’t you think? Except for the color they have the same shape head. So I was satisfied that it was a species of net-wing.
Surprise!
It’s not.
Kristie forwarded on a response to me from another gal in the MDC (Missouri Department of Conservation) named Heather.
Peg,
Very interesting photo! The bigger creature is a black firefly. The smaller creature adds an interesting aspect of the photo. It’s a pseudoscorpion that’s evidently hitching a ride on the firefly.
Thank you for sending us your intriguing photo, and thank you for your interest in Missouri wildlife!
Heather included two links in her response; one for the black firefly and the other an article on the little hitchhiker.
Pseudoscorpions are arachnids, just like spiders, ticks and scorpions. They don’t have wings so they hitch a ride on beetles and other insects. They have quite a grip and are not easily dislodged and when they get to a place that suits them, they let go. Hitching a ride on another critter without being a parasite (like a tick) has a fancy-schmancy name called phoresy (Conner, say for-a-se).
Sometimes the MDC online field guide doesn’t identify a bug I’ve found or it doesn’t look enough like my bug that I recognize it. Sometimes my bug is a sub-species of a bug they have listed and I don’t recognize that either. Like, take fireflies for instance. There are 175 species of fireflies in North America and they have a photograph of just one of them. So I use Google and can find my bugs that way sometimes. If all else fails, I email it to MDC.
With that preamble, let me say I was walking down by the pond with the girls on Friday and this little bit of fluff goes floating past my face.
Hey! It’s got wings! I was amazed to see. But it was tiny and it was gone. Had I not seen the wings I would have gone on thinking that it was just a bit of fluff.
Itsy, Ginger and I reached the turn-around point of our walk and start back and almost in the same spot as I saw the first one, I see another one — or it could be the same one again, who knows. This time I reached up and snatched him from the air, took a few photos of him, then turned him loose.
I checked the MDC field guide and couldn’t find it, so I Googled ‘flying bits of fluff’ and found it that way.
This, my dears, is a woolly aphid. They get their appearance because of filaments of wax secreted from their bodies. This keeps them from drying out and repels some predators who would rather not get a mouthful of wax.
The MDC field guide does list aphids of course, but not this one and I did not recognize this as being an aphid. There are more than 1,300 species of aphids in North America so it’s understandable that they can’t show them all.
I was photographing something the other day and brushed my leg against some of that spit that is all over the tall grasses. Do you know the stuff I mean?
What is that stuff? I wondered and as I photographed a gob of it, I see a daddy longlegs so I switched my focus.
I Googled ‘spit in the grass’ and learned that this is caused by a spittlebug. The spittlebugs feed on plant juices and the nymph secretes the foam to protect it from heat and cold and to keep it out of sight of its predators.
I Googled ‘spittlebug’ and was surprised to see a picture of another bug that was on my list to identify. This, my dears, is what a spittlebug grows up to look like. Spittlebugs are also called froghoppers because they can jump many times their height and length.
Another bug I’ve seen on my walk-abouts is a rather strange looking bug. I was taking his picture when he surprised me by opening his wings and flying away. Who’d have thought a bug that looks like this actually has wings? Not me!
I didn’t know where to start so I Googled beetles, clicked on the images tab and started scrolling. After looking and looking and losing hope that I’d find anything that looked like this, I’ll be darned if I didn’t find one. I clicked on the image and found a name. This is a bee beetle, a scarab beetle of the subfamily of flower chafers. They eat pollen and nectar.
A strange and interesting critter, don’t you think?
I stopped at the post office to mail my letters last week. Erma, the clerk I normally see wasn’t there. “These are heavy,” I told Karen, the clerk behind the counter this day. I handed her five letters and said, “They’re all the same.”
Erma is familiar with my storytelling habit and often asks me, “How many pages this week?”
But on the occasion when I get someone else, they may take my word for it that they are all the same and weigh only one, or they may check two or three of them. Whatever. Weigh them all, I don’t care — but they are all the same! I don’t say that though.
Then I handed across a card for my cute little redheaded sister. “This one just needs a stamp.” Then I started thinking out loud. “I have stamps at home but do you think I could put one of those on there?” I didn’t wait for Karen to answer. “No. You know why?”
“Why?” she politely replied.
“Because they are 49 cent stamps. I want a 47 cent stamp.”
I really thought that was clear enough but I could tell by her confused look and by her response that she didn’t understand. “Aren’t they Forever stamps?”
“Yeah.”
“They’re still good. You can still use them,” she said.
“I know but — I paid 49 cents for them. I’ll buy 47 cent stamps now and when postage goes back up I’ll use them then.”
Her look said she thought I was crazy but she let it go.
You know what Benjamin Franklin said, don’t you? Watch your pennies and the dollars will take care of themselves.
I collected the mail and flipping through it I saw there was some stuff for Mike that he was waiting for. I tossed it on the passenger seat of the Jeep as I climbed in and decided it could wait. I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and called one of my favorite old people. “Miss Helen, I’m on my way to the Laundromat but I can stop for a little while if you want me too.”
“Sure. Come on by,” she said. I hung up and tossed the phone on the passenger seat with the mail.
I stopped and visited with Miss Helen and did a few little things for her that she needed to have done.
When I got back out to the Jeep I see the mail sitting on the passenger seat.
Sigh.
I guess I better take the mail home if Mike wants it. I picked up my phone and looked at the time. It was lunch time! I called Mike.
“Your mail came, do you want me to bring it home before I go to the Laundromat?” I asked.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” Mike replied.
“Nah, I don’t mind. Should I drive through McDonalds and get us a McDouble for lunch?” I volunteered.
“Whatever…sure.”
I drive back out to the main road and I sat there waiting for traffic to clear so I could make my left hand turn and the traffic just kept coming. I waited and I waited and I waited. Finally, after what seemed like forever, there was enough of a break that I made a break for it. I’m sure the guy I pulled out in front of was pissed, but it wasn’t all that close and he could clearly see I was going to pull out in front of him. But you know how some people are. Instead of cutting you a break, they step on the gas and run up on your rear.
I remember once, while riding in a car being driven by my oldest brother Ed, a car pulled out in front of us. I must have said something because Ed told me something that I’ve never forgotten.
“It’s okay if someone pulls out in front of you and you have to take your foot off the gas. It’s not okay if you have to hit the brakes.”
So I get out into the mainstream of traffic, look in the mirror and this guy is right on my ass. I pressed a little harder on the gas and get on down the road.
At McDonalds I pulled into the center left turn lane behind three other vehicles waiting to make the turn into McDonalds. It wasn’t too long until some kind soul stopped the traffic and let all of us cross in front of him. I watched as car after car pulled into the drive-thru lane. If the truck in front of me pulls into the drive-thru lane there won’t be room for me to be off the road. I didn’t have to wonder what I would do as the truck in front of me decided to park instead and veered off to a parking spot. I patiently waited my turn, ordered two McDoubles — “Plain please” and a small fry for us to share. I luck out as I was leaving McDonalds; I didn’t have to wait to cross traffic at all!
“It’s crazy out there! Just crazy!” I said to Mike when I came in and handed him the mail and set out our lunch. “If I didn’t have to do the laundry I wouldn’t go back out!”
“Don’t go. I’ve got enough to get through till Monday,” Mike said.
And that was all the excuse I needed. Laundry would wait till Monday.
“Why is traffic so bad in your town this weekend?” you wonder.
This weekend is an event called Lake Race. Boats come from all over to compete. They come in by truck and the boats are lifted by crane into and out of the water, which is interesting to watch for a time or two but the best place to watch the race from is your couch; it’s televised. In the air conditioning; it’s hot outside.
So I get home with lunch and the mail — the laundry is put on hold. After we’ve eaten, I hook up Itsy and Ginger and take them out for their early afternoon pee. Standing there, waiting for the girls, the phone in my pocket chirps it’s one o’clock alarm. It’s time for my daily I Love You Call to my mother. I dig it out, turn the alarm off and flip it open. The sun is bright but I can see well enough to scroll down to Momma’s number. I hit the call button and waited as I hear it ring in my ear.
“Hello,” Miss Helen says.
“Miss Helen?”
“Yes…”
“Miss Helen, you’re not going to believe this, but I was trying to call my mother and accidentally called you instead. I guess I was supposed to call you.”
“Oh, dear. I’m so glad you called!”
“Really?”
“Yes! Right after you left something started beeping and I can’t figure out what it is! Would you stop again on your home from the Laundromat?”
Chirp
“It’s your smoke alarm; I just heard it. The batteries are low and need to be replaced, but Miss Helen, I came home and I’m not going back out.”
I told her about the crazy traffic and long wait at the end of her road. “I’m going back out on Monday to do the laundry, so if your neighbor lady can’t come over and change it for you, I’ll get it then.”
Once Miss Helen knew the source of the beeping she wasn’t too concerned about it.
Then I called my mother.
<<<<<>>>>>
Everything is active right now.The whistle pigs, normally solitary creatures, are out with their young.
I know these critters can be destructive with their burrowing under foundations and sometimes you need to kill them to control damage and population. And I try not to be too sad about it.
Across the road from us is a business and they have their share of whistle pigs on their vast holdings. On a walk-about with the girls I spot this one from a ways away and Itsy and Ginger don’t see him.
As we get closer and closer he just honkers down and doesn’t run. I wonder if he’s hurt, hit by a car maybe, but I don’t really see any evidence of that. Maybe he’s sick was my next thought. I’ve never seen a whistle pig that didn’t run from people and dogs. I was carrying Itsy so I reeled Ginger in and kept her close and had a brief fear that a sick whistle pig may attack. I gave him a wide berth. We got down to the bottom of the hill and Ginger finds something.
“UH-UH!” I tell Ginger and she dropped it. I went over and looked and it was a piece of sausage. Now I’m wondering if they’re poisoning them. I’ve asked around but no one knows for sure, although they said they wouldn’t be surprised if they were.
The turtles have been really active the last week or so. I’ve found a couple in the parking lot here and next door as the turtles are heading for the lake. I know you are supposed to take the turtles in the direction they are heading but I didn’t. I took them down to the pond and turned them loose. I figure water is water and hoped it was good enough.
At the pond I see a good size snapper hunting along the banks. He stuck his nose up for a breath of air and as long as I didn’t move fast, I didn’t alarm him and was able to get all the shots of him that I wanted.
I’ve been seeing lots of butterflies and moths too but I’ve not had a great amount of success photographing them considering how many I’ve seen.
Here’s a red-spotted purple. The red spots are on the underside of the wings.
I’ve seen a bunch of the pearl crescents.
Photographing butterflies can be tricky because if a shadow falls across them they think it’s a bird and they take flight. But they don’t photograph as well in the direct sunlight either. So I’ll take a shot in the sun and try to angle my shadow across them without scaring them. Sometimes it works, most times it doesn’t.
When one comes zipping past my head and lands in front of me, I think he wants his picture taken — I know. I’m silly. But that’s what happened with this moth, a clover looper.
We were coming back from the pond and this guy nearly knocks me over trying to get my attention, then he lands on the road. I oblige and take his picture. Then I squat down to get a closer shot.
“Yip, yip!” Ginger cries.
I look up in time to see Ginger jump sideways and the tall grasses beside the road rustling with the passage of something. I looked but didn’t see what it was and I didn’t really expect to either. Ginger didn’t appear to be bleeding and she wasn’t licking any wounds so I thought she was fine. I looked in the grass again and this time I spot a snapper. I suspect he jumped at her and scared her and I am thankful that he didn’t bite her.
“They don’t turn loose once they bite,” Mike has told me more than once.
The ticks are always a challenge when you have a dog that loves to run through the weeds or when you need to go into the weeds to get photographs.
See this guy sitting on the end of a leaf? No, he’s not waving at me, he’s waiting for some warm blooded creature to brush past him. He’ll snag you with his extended leg and let go of the leaf with the other legs and you’ve got a hitchhiker.
Every night, when we come in from our walks, I check the girls for ticks. Mostly Ginger because Itsy doesn’t walk that much. And before you ask, yes, I do have flea medicine on then, I keep it on them all year round, but I like to get the ticks off as soon as I can. So I do tick checks as soon as we get home.
The night after the snapping turtle scare, Ginger is on my lap and she keeps licking at her foot. I looked and I see her little foot is so red and swollen that her toes are completely separated.
“Did the turtle bite her?” Mike asked.
“No. This is on the other side.”
I dismissed that she may have stepped on something because all of the redness and swelling was on the top of her foot. By bedtime Ginger couldn’t hardly walk on her foot at all.
But I didn’t panic. I decided to watch her and by the next morning the swelling was down some and she wasn’t limping at all. Other than her licking on it, it didn’t appear to bother her very much.
A couple of days before this, Mike and I had seen a segment on the news about tick paralysis. The owners took their dog to the vet because it couldn’t walk and once the vet had removed the tick the dog recovered pretty quickly.
I had picked some ticks off of Ginger’s foot. Had this been caused by a tick? I’m guessing it was and had I not seen that news segment, I would never have guessed that.
Another day down at the pond we are met with destruction. There were little holes all over the place along the edge of the pond and then I happen on this. Can you see what it is? It’s turtle eggs. Or it was. Something dug up the nests and ate the eggs.
There were lots and lots of little holes all over the place and whoever — whatever did this only found two nests. That got me to wondering. How did he know where to dig? Is it trial and error? Did he just keep digging in different places until he found the nests? Or after digging down a few inches could he smell the eggs because most of the holes were more shallow than the ones the resulted in eggs.
And then I wondered what did this. Possum? Coon? Maybe a dillo? Yeah. I’m thinking armadillo. There are several around this area and I’ve seen the divots they dig.
“Google it, Peg,” you say.
Another day my loves. Another day.
My current desktop, which normally heads up my letter blogs, is this sun-dappled lane.
But it isn’t the only one I’ve had up this week. I had these leaves up there for a while too. Sometimes I like things that are simple, you know what I mean?
Okay guys, I asked you a question at the beginning of this letter blog and you’ve had enough time to think about it.
What should I do with all of the photographs I don’t have room for in my letters?
Let’s call this one done.
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