In August of 2023, I returned to one of my favourite places: Algonquin Provincial Park. While there, I photographed and encountered varied organisms and I’d like to take the opportunity to explore and describe these nature observations in a series of blogposts, as I often do.
When first arriving at our campsite, I observed not a living thing itself, but rather the mark of a living thing on its environment: I found a bird nest. According to iNaturalist it is likely the creation of a Vireo (genus Vireo, who said Scientific names were hard to remember?). The most common Vireo in Southern Ontario is the Red-eyed Vireo (Vireo olivaceus), so this was likely constructed by a member of this species. A description of their nest construction is appropriate here: “The female spends 4 to 5 days constructing a nest of bark strips, grasses, pine needles, wasp-nest paper, twigs, and plant fibers that hangs below the branch. She glues the materials (some of which are provided by the male) together and to the branch fork with spider-web adhesive, occasionally supplemented with spider egg cases and sticky plant fibers.” (Cornell Lab of Ornithology 2019). I love thinking of the time and effort that went into this small nest. Just think of the spiders’ webs and egg cases that went into this architecture.
Small eye-level nest of a songbird, likely a Vireo of some sort.
While exploring our campsite, a very different organism was in the process of creating a nest, a crabronid wasp female. This tiny black-and-yellow wasp was investigating the ground of our campsite for a location to create a burrow. The wasp landed several times and dug a little bit into the sandy soil then hovered for a while, circling the area before dropping to the ground once more. At one point, it entered the firepit and dug rapidly into the ashes within, crafting itself a very easily constructed but frightfully unwise burrow. It put me in mind of the parable of the man building a house on sand, perhaps there is a Hymenopteran equivalent about “digging one’s burrow in ashes”. In any case, I don’t think the wasp was settled on the firepit as its burrow location because after forming these temporary exploratory burrows, she flew off and wasn’t seen the rest of the day.
“Do not dig your burrow in ash” – ancient Hymenopteran proverb.
A few days later, I spotted her hovering form once more, this time accompanied by a prey item. Dragging below her was a corpse larger than herself, that of a Horse Fly (Tabanidae). I never witnessed the end of her journey, I’m not sure if she found a good spot to bury her large prey to feed her young. But I hope that she did.
Crabronid wasp dragging her larger horse fly prey below herself.
Another Hymenopteran was looking to provision for its young, although its prey was far larger than a horsefly. The creature was a Black-and-red Horntail (Urocerus cressoni) and its prey was a tree. Horntails (Suborder Symphyta) lay their eggs inside the trunks of trees and the larvae feed within. Urocerus cressoni larvae feed inside of Pine trees and their relatives (Marshall 2023).
Black-and-Red Horntail (Urocerus cressoni) resting on the trunk of a tree, likely searching for a place to lay her eggs.
Many other insects were observed on the trees, plants and litter of our campsite and the surrounding areas of the Pog Lake Campground. Some True Flies (Order Diptera) caught my attention. A bright and shiny Dolichopus skittered about in the leaf litter, and an elongate Robber Fly (Genus Machimus) was spotted on fallen pine needles.
Dolichopus Fly.Robber fly of the genus Machimus.
Some of the most beautiful insects found in the Pog Lake campground were the Dragonflies (Order Odonata). A strikingly large Dragonfly of the genus Aeshna was basking in the sun on the trunks of trees and (when I was able to take its photo) on our dining tent entrance.
A much more easily missed odonate was the Variable Darner (Argis fumipennis), a smoky grey presence among the pine needles and fallen bark.
Resting along a branch was a beautiful Autumn Meadowhawk (Sympetrum vicinum), in a colour phase that I hadn’t observed before. Males of this species are a bright red with a rusty-red thorax, but females (like the one I encountered) are yellowish. I was able to get very close to this dragonfly and was rewarded with some beautiful photographs.
We didn’t just hang out by our campsite in Pog Lake, but we spent quite a bit of time at the campground beach and that will be the focus of my next blogpost.
Siederia walshella, on the Lynn Valley Trail, April 2023:
On a walk on the trail by my house, I spotted this tiny creature (about a cm long) climbing up the trunk of a tree. I’m not positive on the identification, but it’s based on iNaturalist’s auto-ID for my photo and seems to match from what I can tell. If the ID is correct, this tiny caterpillar was likely searching for lichen to eat.
Eastern Spotted Newt (Notophthalmus viridescens), in my Parents’ pond, April 2023:
For the past few years, my parents’ garden pond has been host to these amazing creatures. All amphibians impress with their transformation from aquatic to terrestrial life but the Eastern Spotted Newt outdoes this life cycle with some incredible twists and turns. Larval newts transform into terrestrial juveniles (known as “efts”) and leave the water behind, living in the leaf litter. While on land, the efts have a rough reddish brown skin which keeps moisture in. After two to seven years, the efts undergo another transformation, darkening in colour and gaining a raised tail fin which aids them as they return to the water as aquatic adults. The newt pictured above is in this final stage of life: an aquatic adult. This isn’t necessarily the end of the newt’s transformations however, since some newt adults leave the water and regain some of their terrestrial attributes (rougher dry skin, loss of tail fin) for hibernation on dry land (Harding and Mifsud 2017).
Greater Bee Fly (Bombylius sp.), Lynn Valley Trail, April 2023:
This fuzzy fly has special adaptations to gather sand in its abdomen which it coats its eggs with before launching the eggs into solitary wasp nests (dug in sand presumably) (Marshall 2012). The larvae hatch from the eggs and enter the nest chambers of their host before feeding on a single host larva each (making the Bee Flies parasitoids, consumers of a single prey item).
Canada Goose (Branta canadensis) Parent and Gosling, Grant Andersen Park, May 2023:
Canada Geese are both common and abundant so they usually don’t catch my eye, but I really liked how the gosling was in the exact same pose as its nearby parent in this photo.
Spotted Sandpiper (Actitis macularius), Grant Andersen Park, May 2023:
The picture is blurry because the action was taking place across some water from my camera lens, but this fascinating courtship display was happening right in the middle of Simcoe in Grant Andersen Park. These shorebirds performed their display a few times and then mated and dispersed.
Sandhill Crane (Grus canadensis) family, Long Point, May 2023:
Sandhill Cranes have captures my heart with their wild resonant calls and their impressive size. It was a special treat to watch this family of two parents and two young foraging at the edges of a marsh in Long Point.
Canada Warbler (Cardellina canadensis), Long Point Old Cut Birding Station, May 2023:
Canada Warblers migrate into Ontario to breed during May/June, creating nests near the ground on stumps or small mounds (Bezener 2016). Then in late summer/early Fall they set off again to leave the Canadian winter behind them. Like other Wood-Warblers (the Family Parulidae) they consume insects and spiders, taken from plants or the ground.
White-Tailed Deer (Odocoileus virginianus), Lynn Valley Trail, June 2023:
This deer was incredibly close to the trail, so I was able to capture its gaze among the purple wildflowers.
Velvet Ant (Timulla vagans), Backyard, July 2023:
Velvet Ants are not members of the ant superfamily (Formicoidea) but are instead solitary wasps (members of the family Mutillidae). Their larvae develop as parasitoids on the larvae of other wasps (in the case of Timulla vagans, their hosts are Crabronids and Eumenine wasps (Marshall 2023)). The males of Timulla vagans are winged unlike the ant-like females and will carry the wingless females in their mandibles during their mating flight (Waldren et al 2020).
Physocephala marginata, Backyard, July 2023:
Although this insect drinking nectar appears to be a wasp, it is actually a fly of the Family Conopidae. Female Physocephala marginata seek out their lookalikes (wasps and bees) at flowers. After apprehending a host wasp or bee, P. marginata uses its abdomen to insert an egg inside the host’s abdomen (Marshall 2012). The egg hatches inside and the larval Conopid consumes the host from the inside.
Tachinid Fly (Exorista sp.), Backyard, August 2023:
Tachinid Flies are yet another group of parasitoid insects. Stephen Marshall, in his giant book on flies had this to say about this huge family of flies: “The Tachinidae is in many ways the ultimate fly family. With almost 10,000 named species and thousands more awaiting description… exhibits an unparalleled variety of sizes, shapes and colors. The range of life history strategies is equally amazing, at least within the constraint that every know species in the group is a parasitoid that develops inside another insect… or related arthropod” (Marshall 2012, p 386). Hosts of this genus are caterpillars or sawfly larvae.
Brown Marmorated Stink Bug (Halyomorpha halys), Backyard, August 2023:
This species of Stink Bug is native to East Asia but was introduced to North America accidentally in the 1990s. As with many successful and widespread introduced species, the Brown Marmorated Stink Bug can feed on a wide diversity of plants and can be a serious pest of agriculture and gardens. The pictured insect is a nymph, not quite an adult because it is missing fully developed wings across its back.
Green Heron (Butorides virescens), Waterford Ponds, August 2023:
The above photo was actually taken by my wife on an outing to Waterford Ponds. She was quicker on the draw to find and focus on this beautiful bird amidst the morning mist and tangled reeds of its marshy habitat. I’ve written an article about these amazing birds because of a different close encounter I had, go here to learn more!
Common Whitetail Dragonfly (Plathemis lydia), Front of House, September 2023:
As I was entering my house, I was stopped by the sight of this wondrous insect framed perfectly on my siding beside my door. I carefully entered the house to retrieve my camera in order to get this picture. One of the first Dragonflies photographed at my house since I don’t have a backyard pond… yet. The Common Whitetail pictured is a male, distinguishable because it has the chalky white abdomen which it uses as a signal to chase other males off of its territory. Females of this species have multiple bands on their wings and a dark abdomen.
Double-crested Cormorant (Nannopterum auritum), Lynn River, September 2023:
When swimming in the water, a cormorant reminds me of a hook-billed loon or a merganser, but their especially long neck gives them away. Like loons and mergansers, cormorants are underwater divers, pursuing fish prey amid lakes and rivers. This one was foraging in the Lynn River right in the middle of Simcoe, and I was very excited to get a close look at its sleek profile as it dried off on the bank. You can’t see them in the photo, but it was amidst a crowd of Canada Geese.
Great Spangled Fritillary (Argynnis cybele), Backyard, September 2023:
I at first thought this large butterfly was a Monarch (Danaus plexippus) as it was nectaring among our milkweed patch, but I quickly realized it was a different species. After patrolling our garden, this fluttering visitor rested and spread its wings on our orange plastic picnic table where I snapped this picture. The caterpillars of this species make it through our winter, after hatching just before the cold arrives (Hall et al 2014).
Black Swallowtail Caterpillar (Papilio polyxenes), Backyard, September 2023:
These colourful caterpillars feed on plants in the Carrot family (Apiaceae), and there were several munching away on our garden carrots this year. My 3-year old son helped me demonstrate one of their defensive strategies for this photo. If provoked these conspicuous caterpillars unfold the orange organ featured here, named an osmeterium, which has a foul odor (I would describe it as old rotten cheese, it was surprisingly powerful for such a small creature) (Marshall 2006). If I were a caterpillar-foraging bird or mammal, I would avoid such smelly prey.
Virginia Giant Hover Fly (Milesia virginiensis), Backus Woods, September 2023:
As the name implies, this fly was large and conspicuous in a sunny clearing. The larvae of these large flower flies (Syrphidae) develop inside rotting trees, sometimes inside tree holes (Skevington and Locke 2019).
Shadow Darner (Aeshna umbrosa), Backus Woods, September 2023:
Darners are huge dragonflies (over 7 cm long), instantly noticeable when in flight but this one cooperated in staying still while I took its picture. The Shadow Darner is named after its habit of flying late in the day (even at dusk) and staying mostly in shade (Marshall 2006). This one was photographed in the afternoon.
Chinese Mantis (Tenodera sinensis), Backyard, September 2023:
There are no Mantids native to Ontario, both of our common species: the European Mantis (Mantis religiosa) and the Chinese Mantis pictured here, were introduced to North America over a hundred years ago (Marshall 2006). This very large and impressive insect was clambering through my garden and nicely posed for a few pictures but this was my favourite photo I took, showcasing its powerful grasping forelegs and its triangular head.
References:
Bezener, Andy. 2016. Birds of Ontario. Partners and Lone Pine Publishing.
Hall, Peter, Jones, Colin, Guidotti, Antonia, and Hubley, Brad. 2014. The ROM Field Guide to Butterflies of Ontario. Royal Ontario Museum.
Harding, James H. and Mifsud, David A. 2017. Amphibians and Reptiles of the Great Lakes Region. University of Michigan Press.
Marshall, Stephen. 2006. Insects: Their Natural History and Diversity. Firefly Books.
Marshall, Stephen. 2012. Flies: Their Natural History and Diversity. Firefly Books.
Marshall, Stephen. 2023. Hymenoptera: The Natural History and Diversity of Wasps, Bees, and Ants. Firefly Books.
Skevington, Jeffrey H. and Locke, Michelle M. 2019. Field Guide to the Flower Flies of Northeastern North America. Princeton University Press.
Waldren GC, Roberts JD, Pitts JP (2020) Phoretic copulation in the velvet ant Sphaeropthalma pensylvanica (Lepeletier) (Hymenoptera, Mutillidae): A novel behavior for Sphaeropthalminae with a synthesis of mating strategies in Mutillidae. Journal of Hymenoptera Research 78: 69-89. https://doi.org/10.3897/jhr.78.55762
Using a magnifying hand lens, or a macro camera lens opens up whole worlds of detail and diversity unappreciated by the naked eye. One of these worlds is that of the Springtails.
A group of Springtails on the Lynn Vally Trail on a log.
This past winter* I encountered them where they are most often seen, even without any sort of magnifying equipment: bounding by the millions atop the snow. While at Algonquin’s Mew Lake Campground, I observed these tiny pinpricks of dark life in stark contrast against the bright white snow. In this context, these Springtails are called “snow-fleas”, and it’s easy to see why. The tiny creatures are about the size of fleas and hop about with amazing ability. Springtails are not fleas, and leap about not by their legs but by a “spring-like tail” that curves under their body and can launch them through the air.
*This was originally written and posted on my tumblr blog in April 2018, so the winter referred to was 2017-2018.
They are actually part of a group known as Collembola, which is not quite under the group Insecta. They are not true insects, but are closely related. I had the privilege of being able to observe Springtails several times since our Algonquin trip and it is an incredible pleasure to be able to resolve something so tiny (about 1-3 mm long) into an individual animal, complete with legs, head, and antennae.
Even though they are quite numerous, they are small, and many Springtails spend most or all of their time belowground. This makes them difficult to study, and little is known about these amazing creatures.
Some closer views of individuals.To give some more context on their size: the green blurred object in the background is the head of a screw on the bridge, and the Springtails are the bluish-grey specks in the focus.
For this article I’d like to consider one of the most beautiful insects I’ve ever had the pleasure of observing: the Peacock Fly (Callopistromyia annulipes) and its relative, the only other member of its genus the Peahen Fly (Callopistromyia strigula)*. The main difference in appearance between these two species is in their wings: C. strigula contains much narrower wings than C. annulipes (Kameneva and Korneyev 2006).
*There is no common name for C. strigula, so I made one up. You might be surprised that there isn’t a common name, but consider that there are hundreds of thousands of species of Flies, and many of these are only known within specialist groups that study the differences between them. This is also the reason that there isn’t much information available for these Flies despite their beauty and conspicuousness.
Callopistromyia annulipes, the Peacock Fly. Note the wide wings and the position they are held in above the body.Callopistromyia strigula, the Peahen Fly. Note the relatively narrow wings, and their position held out to the sides of the body.
C. annulipes is distributed across the United States and occurs in three provinces of Canada: British Columbia, Alberta, and Ontario, while C. strigula is found in Manitoba, Ontario and Saskatchewan as well as several States. Over the past several years, this species has spread into Europe as well, no doubt via human means (Pintilioaie and Manci 2020).
In both species males and females display, contrasting with many fly species in which only the males display for the females to choose from among them. I don’t want to discuss sexual selection and mate choice here in any depth. Suffice to say that because both males and females perform displays there is likely mutual sexual selection going on in these species, meaning that traits are preferred and chosen by both sexes in this species, rather than a female-choice bias or male-choice bias.*
*of course, this only applies if the displays and accompanying appearances are sexually selected for, but there are other ideas for what forces are selecting these displays (see further below).
Video of Peacock Fly (Callopistromyia annulipes) displaying on a bridge railing on the Lynn Valley trail in Simcoe.
Little is known of these species’ biology other than that they display on conspicuous surfaces (more on this below), and there are records of the adults of C. annulipes feeding on the frass from wood-feeding beetle tunnels* (Steyskal 1979). Their puparia** have been found beneath the bark of various deciduous trees, so it’s presumed that their larvae feed on dead wood, or fungi within dead wood or something associated with dead wood.
*Frass is a fancy way of saying “insect excrement and related material” usually used in connection with wood-boring insects… that ‘related material’ bit is key here since although a lot of what we call frass passes through an insect’s digestive system it can also be broken up bits moved behind a wood-boring beetle, so less insect “poop” and more insect “debris”.
**puparia refers to the hardened larval skin that encloses the pupal stage of derived Diptera… which probably doesn’t explain very much unless you know what those other terms mean. Basically, instead of nothing surrounding the pupa (the transformative stage of insects, between larva and adult), a huge branch of the Fly Family Tree (the Cyclorrapha) hardens their final larval stage skin into a protective case, sort of the fly version of a chrysalis.
As with many Diptera, their larvae are mysterious. After much searching, I managed to find a few pictures of Callopistromyia larvae online. I was amazed and contacted the person who recorded these organisms to obtain permission to share the relevant information and images.
The pictures depict larval and pupal C. strigula which were found feeding on the inner bark of a boxelder tree (Acer negundo) (van der Linden 2018). I can’t find any pictures or information pertaining to C. annulipes larvae, but presumably they have the same or similar feeding habits.
Finally, the most attractive thing about these species are their displays. The reason I’m writing about these flies is because I noticed them, and the reason I noticed them is because they strutted about on the railings of bridges on the Lynn Valley Trail. The Peacock Fly (Callopistromyia annulipes) in particular raises its large wings so that they meet above its back presenting a very noticeable display. By contrast, C. strigula adults display their wings in a more horizontal fashion. Presumably, these displays are about attracting mates and because the displays are performed by both sexes, they are about mutual mate choice. In other words, males are displaying to attract the attention of females and females are displaying to attract the attention of males. An intriguing possibility is that these wing displays are about more than finding a mate… they could also be an example of predator mimicry.
Can you see the face of a Jumping Spider in the Peacock fly’s wing-pattern?
A fascinating paper with an excellent title* describes how other species of Ulidiidae (the family of Flies that includes Callopistromyia) have wing patterns and displays that mimic the appearance of Jumping Spiders (Salticidae) (Hill et. al. 2019). The reason? Jumping Spiders are visually hunting predators of basically any insect they can catch. The wing patterns are possibly exploiting the visual system of Jumping Spiders by causing the spiders to believe they are staring down another Jumping Spider and so to be cautious. I can’t help but be intrigued by this idea, and somewhat skeptical. Despite its appeal, there are some problems with the hypothesis. One problem that came to my mind is that Jumping Spiders will hunt other Jumping Spiders. So if the pattern is supposed to resemble a Jumping Spider and deter them from predating the fly, why would it? The paper acknowledges that there are still many unknowns, but the authors make a good case that at least some insects are manipulating salticid responses to prey with visually deterrent patterns. And they also note: “In a natural setting even a brief delay in the attack of a salticid could allow these flies to escape” (Hill et. al. 2019). As always in science, more studies are needed…
*The title, for those of you who don’t read through the References section, is “Do jumping spiders (Araneae: Salticidae) draw their own portraits?” The idea is that in avoiding hunting insects that resemble themselves, jumping spiders leave those ones alive to reproduce in like kind and so jumping spider resemblances are crafted by the natural selection of the jumping spiders themselves.
There is always more to learn, and always new organisms to explore in the world. I hope you enjoyed my dive into the beautiful flies of the genus Callopistromyia, the Peacock Flies.
References:
Hill, David, A. P. C., Abhijith, and Burini, Joao. 2019. “Do jumping spiders (Araneae: Salticidae) draw their own portraits?” Peckhamia 179.1: 1-14. (full pdf available here: https://peckhamia.com/peckhamia/PECKHAMIA_179.1.pdf)
Kameneva, Elena and Korneyev, Valery. 2006. “Myennidini, a New Tribe of the Subfamily Otitinae (Diptera: Ulidiidae), with Discussion of the Suprageneric Classification of the Family”. Israel Journal of Entomology. Vol. 35-36, 2005/6: 497-586.
Pintilioaie A-M, Manci C-O (2020) First record of the peacock fly Callopistromyia annulipes (Diptera: Ulidiidae) in Romania. Travaux du Muséum National d’Histoire Naturelle “Grigore Antipa” 63(1): 87-91. https://doi.org/10.3897/travaux.63.e50920
Steyskal, George C. 1979. “Biological, Anatomical, and Distributional Notes on the Genus Callopistromyia Hendel (Diptera: Otitidae)”. Proceedings of the Entomological Society of Washington. 81(3): 450-455.
The Story Behind the Shot: The amazing hovering capabilities of Flower Flies (the Family Syrphidae) have always impressed me and I really wanted to capture this one in the air. The fact that I was able to take this shot is a testament to how little these insects falter while hovering in mid-air.
The Story Behind the Species:
Common Compost Fly males are some of the most impressive flyers in the world of insects. They use their skills to patrol among flowers and pursue females which visit the flowers with incredible agility. Their singleminded pursuits seem to have sacrificed discrimination for the sake of directness, as these flies are known to pursue “any insect of almost any size that appears in their search area” (Marshall 2012 p. 307). After mating, the females lay their eggs in decomposing plant material, which can include compost, hence their common name.
Syritta pipiens is an introduced species in North America, brought over accidentally from Europe around 1895 (Skevington et. al. 2019).
References:
Marshall, Stephen A. 2012. Flies: The Natural History and Diversity of Diptera. Firefly Books.
Skevington, Jeffrey H., Locke, Michelle M., Young, Andrew D., Moran, Kevin, Crins, William J., and Marshall, Stephen A. 2019. Field Guide to the Flower Flies of Northeastern North America. Princeton University Press.
Subject: Maple Looper Moth (Parallelia bistriaris)
Location: Turkey Point Provincial Park.
Date: June 2018.
The Story behind the Shot: While hiking down a trail at Turkey Point Provincial Park, my wife somehow spotted this moth among the leaves which it matched so closely. I was overjoyed to get such a close-up shot of an amazingly camouflaged insect.
The Story behind the Species:
This moth could be the poster-child for camouflage. Such an elegant example of hiding-in-plain-sight. Positioned among fallen leaves which it matches in tone and general shape, this moth is incredibly hard to spot! To hide itself even more, the Maple Looper Moth positions itself head down, thus hiding its least leaf-like feature and accentuating the lighter edge of its hindwings (Keiper 1969).
The larvae of this superbly secretive moth are also camouflaged, resembling twigs rather than leaves.
Maple Looper Moth larva (or caterpillar) demonstrating both its twig mimicking colouration and its looping movement. Photo by Dan MacNeal, used with permission.
The larvae, unsurprisingly, feed on Maple leaves (Crumb 1956), but bugguide.net lists Birch and Walnut as food plants as well (https://bugguide.net/node/view/3356).
I’m glad to have found and captured a photograph of this mysterious moth. A beautiful secret of the forest floor.
Keiper, Ronald. 1969. “Behavioral Adaptations of Cryptic Moths IV. Preliminary Studies on Species Resembling Dead Leaves”. Journal of The Lepidopterist’s Society 23: 4: 205-210.
The Story behind the Shot: This beautiful leafhopper was found on the edge of the raised garden bed in my backyard.
The Story behind the Species:
I can find very little information about Errastunus leafhoppers, despite their beautiful and intricate patterns. They seem to be associated with grasslands, feeding on grasses with their piercing tube-like mouth. In North America (where they are introduced, the species was originally native to Europe), they are usually found in lawns and other disturbed grassy areas.
I shouldn’t be too surprised that leafhoppers (Family Cicadellidae) are understudied on the individual species level as there are approximately 22 000 species described (with an estimated 100 000 species total diversity) (source: bugguide.net). It’s these sorts of numbers that start to give you an idea of the diversity of insects, and why I find them so fascinating. You will never run out of insects to learn about, even if you run out of information about particular species!
Once again, I’m going to repost one of my tumblr blog posts, this time from May of 2018.
On May 18-21, 2018, we took a trip to MacGregor Point Provincial Park. Today’s post is going to be a highlight of the animal observations/encounters that we had that weekend.
We awoke early the first morning of our stay and looked at the grey skies that promised rain. Hoping to spot some wildlife beneath the somber dawn sky, we set off on the Tower Trail. Our early start was rewarded with the sight of a strange animal resting in a tree.
It was a mammal with spines, and the second largest rodent in North America (only beaten by the Beaver): a North American Porcupine (Erethizondorsatum). After consuming some buds and plants that it foraged in the night it found a perch to rest in for the day, one that seemed awfully thin for the size of the animal.
Further down the trail, we moved through various ponds until the horizon opened into spreading wetlands filled with reeds and bordered by grasses and trees. Here, the red-winged blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus) were in abundance, uttering their O-ka-leeeee calls from their various perches. We saw males with their velvet black plumage offset by epaulets of red-and-yellow, and we also occasionally spotted the much more camouflaged females. On our last morning camping, we saw one of the females and believed it to be a different species of marsh-bird, but later came to the realization that it was a female red-winged blackbird.
Male (top) and Female (bottom) Red-winged Blackbirds (Agelaius phoeniceus).
Mixed with the sounds of the blackbirds, were the trumpeting calls of the Canada Geese (Branta canadensis), always the loudest birds present. As we were leaving the wetlands, we heard a strange call and a bird departing the marsh. We were able to snap a quick picture of it and now believe it’s a Great Egret (Ardea alba).
Our fleeting glimpse of a Great Egret (Ardea alba).
Throughout our stay, our campsite was host to several small, flitting birds that would rarely sit still. Every time the eyes caught one in full view the birds would then dart off again, a streak of orange flickering through the branches of the tree like an avian fire. We were barely able to take some pictures of these quick warblers foraging among the branches. They were American Redstarts (Setophaga ruticilla), who had returned from their wintering grounds in Central America and northern South America. Like the Red-wings, the male and female birds look very different- the male sporting a dark coat with orange dashes on the wings and chest, and the female a gray-white with yellow patches on the sides.
Male (top) and Female (bottom) American Redstarts (Setophaga ruticilla). The pictures unfortunately do not capture their boundless energy.
Beneath clear skies the next day, we set off on the Tower Trail once more, hearing and seeing the blackbirds again. On our way through the wetlands trail, we spotted another creature enjoying the warmth and sun: a Northern Watersnake (Nerodia sipedon).
Northern Watersnake (Nerodia sipedon) basking in the sun.
While visiting the trail near the Visitor’s Centre, we were in the right place to see a creature that resembles a mythical beast: a swimming Snapping turtle (Chelydra serpentina). Snapping turtles are beautiful creatures and the one we saw moved very stealthily. Despite the clear waters, and the size of the reptile, it was difficult to keep track of its scaly skin among the water-plants as it slowly and gracefully swam through.
Also moving through the waters of the marsh were large tadpoles, with heads the size of a toonie or larger. Some were beginning to display the stubs of legs, but continued to swim in wriggling pollywog fashion, so unlike the athletic strokes of their adult frog legs.
Once back at our site, I had an itch to use my macro lens to capture some of the tiny creatures that abounded there. Turning over a piece of bark on the gravel of our site, no larger than my palm revealed a portion of a miniature society. Tiny orange-brown ants scurried frantically about. They were Temnothorax ants, which are also known as “acorn ants” because some species of Temnothorax house their entire colony within an acorn.
Temnothorax ants, tiny workers under a piece of bark.
I turned my gaze on equally tiny, but even more numerous inhabitants of our site. Everywhere one looked in the sun, dark specks that slowly moved or hopped about on the gravel, could be seen. To see them in their full was a delight to me. The specks were Springtails, and these were a quite different kind to the ones I had seen before in the snow and on the trail by our house. These Springtails were like tiny rabbits when one could view them up-close. They were Globular springtails (Order Symphypleona) and I’m fairly sure the species was the Garden Springtail (Bourletiella hortensis) or something closely related:
For size context, see the following picture of a Woodlouse (Armadillium vulgare). In the bottom left corner, there is one of the little Springtails:
In my quest to focus the macro lens on these miniature creatures I inadvertently took a picture of something even smaller than an adult Springtail: a baby Springtail!
As if to demonstrate fully the diversity of these tiny almost-insects, an entirely different species of Springtail was also rushing through the gravel: a member of the genus Orchesella, one of the Elongate Springtails:
Right at the edge of our site, my friend Marshall sighted a beautiful snake with orange underbelly and stripes along its dark body. We thought it must be a rare species but it turned out to be a variant of the diverse Eastern Garter Snake (Thamnophus sirtalis), which did nothing to diminish its beauty or wonder.
A beautiful Eastern Garter Snake (Thamnophis sirtalis).
On our last day we went to the Visitor Center trail to feed the Chickadees (Poecile atricapillus) from our hands, along with the occasional red-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta canadensis). Despite some of the rain and cloudy weather, we observed a variety of wild organisms at MacGregor Point and marveled at their diversity and beauty.
The temperature was up, the sun was out, and with it the invertebrates were active and visible. I arrived at the Spruce Bog Boardwalk Trail with my macro lens equipped, and I used it quite extensively.
At the beginning and near the end of the trail, I took pictures of Hooded-Owlets (Cuculia), which are not baby owls with their faces obscured, but instead the name for a genus of moths (these moths have some crazy names. One of the species I observed is similar to a moth that goes by the common name “Asteroid Moth”… I have no idea why…). The first was a brightly striped caterpillar of the Brown Hooded-owlet (Cuculia convexipennis).
Brown Hooded-Owlet Caterpillar.
Near the end of the trail I found another Hooded-Owlet, and I’m not so sure on the identification for this one, but it was much less colourful than the first.
Unidentified Hooded-Owlet (Cucullia sp.).
Landing briefly on a flower was a Tachinid Fly in the Genus Phasia. Tachinids are fascinating Flies and incredibly diverse. This is what Stephen Marshall has to say about them in his incredible book about Flies: “The Tachinidae is in many ways the ultimate fly family. With almost 10 000 named species and thousands more awaiting description, this ubiquitous group… exhibits an unparalleled variety of sizes, shapes and colors. The range of life history strategies is equally amazing, at least within the constraint that every known species in the group is a parasitoid that develops inside another insect… or related arthropod.” (from Marshall 2012, p 386). Phasia tachinids are parasitoids of True Bugs in the families Pentatomidae and Pyrrhocoridae (Marshall 2012).
Phasia Tachinid Fly perching on a flower, possibly P. auralans?
Another flower was visited by a wasp of the Ectemnius genus. These wasps are part of a group of wasps called the “Square-headed wasps” (Subfamiily Crabroninae) and I think you can see that characterization borne out here. I certainly noticed its huge head right away while taking the pictures. Members of the genus Ectemnius hunt mostly adult Flies (Diptera) which they store in their nests for their larvae to feed on. Some species of Ectemnius wasps nest in soil, while others nest in rotten wood (O’Neill 2001).
Ectemnius wasp, visiting a flower.
Visiting flowers for nectar is a common activity for many groups of flying insects. This fact has been exploited by predators, and I spotted one of these on a flower nearby: a Jagged Ambush Bug (Phymata) lying in wait with raptorial (that is, grasping) front legs at the ready to nab unwary pollinators.
Ambush Bug lying in Ambush. Look at that incredible profile.
I spotted some mating grasshoppers on a leaf, which were otherwise engaged and allowed me to take some decent photos. If you know something about Orthopterans (members of the Order Orthoptera, which includes Katydids, Grasshoppers, and Crickets) you might know that unlike butterflies and moths (Order Lepidoptera) and many other insect groups which have very distinct larval forms, young stages of grasshoppers appear the same as adults except for the absence of wings. This photo might be confusing then… since these grasshoppers are clearly mating (a strictly adult activity) and they clearly don’t have wings (a characteristic of larvae). The problem is solved when you find out that the species is called the Wingless Mountain Grasshopper (Booneacris glacialis). Although possessing wings as adults is a characteristic of all major insect groups, there are members of all groups which have later (as in evolutionarily later) lost the wings.
Mating Wingless Mountain Grasshoppers.
Within the sparse woods of the Black Spruce Trees, I found a caterpillar of the Datana genus. These caterpillars stick together in their younger stages, and separate when they are in their final larval stage before adulthood (Marshall 2006).
Datana Caterpillar, likely in its final larval stage because it was alone.
Growing out of the side of the railing on this part of the boardwalk trail was the beautiful branching form of a Beard Lichen (Usnea). Lichens are truly the Corals of the terrestrial realm: they have similar appearances and colours (some are green, brown, orange etc), but they also consist of a partnership* between two very different forms of life. Corals consist of an animal and algae living together and Lichens consist of fungi and algae.
*this is of course a very simple way of describing the relationship between a lichen fungus and a lichen alga. In fact, there can be many variations on the degree of partnership, with many relationships resembling parasitism rather than traditional ‘symbiosis’.
Usnea Beard Lichen growing out of a bridge railing. If this picture had enough blue tint, you might believe it was a photo of a coral attached to a shipwreck.
Once past the railing I came upon the wildflower meadow, which housed an appropriate medley of visiting Insects. Hymenoptera were present in abundance. A Yellow-Banded Bumble Bee (Bombus terricola) busily moved from flower to flower, thrumming through the air. Bumblebees amaze me, and they almost seem like they shouldn’t be able to fly with their stout fuzzy bodies but they fly quite well enough for their purposes.
Yellow-Banded Bumblebee.
A brief appearance by a member of the Sand Wasps (Bembicidae) was an exciting find (have to continue the Sand Wasp series some time, I’ve only done the Introduction and one tribe!). The Sand Wasp I observed in Algonquin is possibly a member of the genus Gorytes. Species in this genus fill their nests with True Bugs, mostly Hoppers (members of the families Cercopidae, Cidadellidae, and Membracidae) (Evans and O’Neill 2007).
Sand Wasp, possibly a Gorytes.
The Spider Wasp Episyron was a very distinct Hymenopteran. Although it sort of has a squat appearance somewhat reminiscent of Spiders, the name “Spider Wasp” comes from the fact that these wasps (members of the Family Pompilidae) hunt Spiders which they feed to their young. Species in the genus Episyron hunt specifically Orb-weaver Spiders (Araneidae) (O’Neill 2001).
Episyron Spider Wasp.
Flower Flies (Syrphidae) were of course frequently seen visiting the flowers. Frustratingly, a new one to me was elusive enough that I didn’t manage to get a very good picture of it. This was the largest Flower Fly I’ve ever seen (though not large in most terms, probably about honeybee size) a member of the Genus Sphaerophoria.
Sphaerophoria Flower Fly.
Not as common, and certainly not as associated with flowers were a couple of Beetle species I observed visiting the flowers. One was a click beetle (Elateridae), possibly of the genus Dalopius. Apparently click beetles aren’t usually desirable flower visitors as they are often feeding on the flowers and pollen themselves (as opposed to the nectar), and don’t contribute to pollination very often (Willmer 2011). Dalopius feeds on other Insects, so perhaps it’s hunting among the flowers for prey, and/or snacking on pollen in the meantime (Marshall 2006).
Click Beetle (Dalopius sp.?) among the flowers, possibly eating pollen, possibly hunting prey.
By contrast, the other flower-visiting beetle that I observed was part of the Family Cerambycidae (the longhorn beetles), which is a group that includes important and frequent pollinators (Willmer 2011). The Red-shouldered Pine Borer (Stictoleptura canadensis) is part of the aptly named subfamily Lepturinae (the flower longhorns) within Cerambycidae.
Red-shouldered Pine Borer, a Flower Longhorn Beetle.
One wildflower that caught my attention as I was continuing down the trail was a small purple flower with strangely square-shaped petals. The flower was a Common Selfheal (Prunella vulgaris). As you can guess from the common name, this flower was used in the past to cure many different illnesses, particularly of the mouth and throat because of the flower’s resemblance to a yawning mouth (Wernert 1982)… because that’s how things were supposed to work…
Common Selfheal, a very interesting-looking wildflower.
Leaving behind the multitude of flowers and insects of the wildflower meadow area, I was arrested by the sight of a peculiar tiny insect: a Barklouse (Order Psocoptera). As Marshall writes in his excellent overview of Insects “One doesn’t hear much about barklice.” (Marshall 2006). Indeed, though this individual is beautifully patterned and distinctive (I believe it’s Metylophorus novaescotiae) I can find little information about this creature. If my identification is correct, I can say that this species lives on shrub and tree branches (Mockford 1993), and presumably feeds on lichen there. Most members of the Order Psocoptera produce silk out of their mouths (specifically, labial glands), and some use this to cover their eggs, while others use the silk to construct shelters for themselves or others (!). There’s a tropical group called the Archipsocidae which can create silken shelters that “enshroud entire trees”, and in which there is some form of sociality (Costa 2006). I would love to learn more about these amazing insects.
Barklouse (possibly Metylophorus novaescotiae).
The final observation of my hike forced me to switch back to my telephoto lens. I actually thought for a second I was seeing a bird zooming back and forth above the path because of the size of the animal, but it was in fact an insect, and more specifically a Variable Darner Dragonfly (Aeshna interrupta). These Dragonflies are among the more acid-tolerant of Ontario Odonates so it makes sense that this individual could have developed as a larva within the acidic waters of the Spruce Bog (Pollard and Berrill, 1992). This amazing dragonfly (possibly about 15 cm long) was my last observation on the Spruce Bog trail and an excellent contrast to the diminutive (less than a cm long) barklouse, demonstrating once again the incredible diversity of the Insects.
Variable Darner Dragonfly at rest, after foraging across the trail.
References:
Costa, James. 2006. The Other Insect Societies.
Evans, Howard and O’Neill, Kevin. 2007. The Sand Wasps: Natural History and Behavior.
Marshall, Stephen. 2012. Flies: The Natural History and Diversity of Diptera.
Marshall, Stephen. 2006. Insects: Their Natural History and Diversity.
O’Neill, Kevin. 2001. Solitary Wasps: Behavior and Natural History.
Pollard, J. B., and Berrill, M. 1992. The distribution of dragonfly nymphs across a pH gradient in south-central Ontario lakes. Canadian Journal of Zoologyhttps://doi.org/10.1139/z92-125
Wernert, Susan. 1982. Reader’s Digest North American Wildlife.
Willmer, Pat. 2011. Pollination and Floral Ecology.
And with that, I have finally completed my five-part journey through my 2021 Algonquin Observations series. What’s next for the Norfolk Naturalist? More nature observations, this time in Norfolk County itself (a fungi-spotting hike in Backus Woods with the Norfolk Field Naturalists), and a Podcast Review. Also, I attended Tetzoomcon 2021 this past weekend and it was awesome! A detailed post about the event will follow hopefully soon…
And if you’re interested in seeing more of my photos and learning some facts about the organisms I’ve observed, follow me on Instagram at norfolknaturalist.
I love Algonquin Provincial Park. There is a special place in my heart for the vistas of trees, lakes and rock that extend to the horizon. Whenever I stay in the park, I encounter new creatures and make new observations, or if I encounter familiar organisms, I often appreciate them in a new light.
The first observation of my most recent trip (over the July/August Long Weekend) was a familiar bird creating a familiar knocking sound as it chipped away at the outer bark of a pine tree. The bird was a Hairy Woodpecker (Dryobates villosus), and its hammering into the edge of a tree is common in Norfolk County as well as Algonquin Park.
Hairy Woodpecker foraging on a Pine tree.
The other species of Woodpecker I encountered on this trip was not so familiar, and certainly not a species I could encounter in the more southern parts of Ontario. The Black-backed Woodpecker (Picoides arcticus) has a range across the Boreal Forests of North America, and Algonquin Provincial Park is at the southern edge of its range. They are a species tied to the disturbance of fire, as they mainly feed on insects (such as bark beetles and wood-boring beetles) which increase in population in fire-killed stands of trees (Backhouse, 2005). I observed the female and male of this species (likely a mated pair) foraging on the trees surrounding our campsite, and I also observed the male digging into what must have been a stump (the stump was obscured by vegetation, but I could see the yellow spot on the male’s head as he knocked away from ground level). As just mentioned, the male and female can be distinguished based on the presence or absence of a yellow patch on the head (the male has the yellow patch, the female does not). Not only did I see this species foraging but within the campground at Pog Lake there was actually a nest! Like most Woodpeckers (maybe all, but I’ve learned not to make rash generalizations), the Black-backed Woodpecker creates a new nest each year, carving a hole into a tree to house its young. I could hear the young inside the nest cavity, producing almost continuous begging calls for food. I saw the male drop by to drop off food he had collected, and I also got some pictures of the male on nest-guarding duty, sticking his head out of the nest entrance which was not too much higher than eye level.
Black-backed Woodpecker Male, guarding his nest.
The Hairy Woodpecker I first spotted was not the only familiar bird encountered within Algonquin Park. Robins (Turdus migratorius) are a common sight throughout the campground, and the screams of Blue Jays (Cyanocitta cristata) frequently break the solemnity of the sky-stretching Pines. Another vocal bird which is quite common in suburban backyards is the Common Grackle (Quiscalus quiscula). Grackles patrolled through the campground, searching for any scraps of food left out by unwary campers. They may not be everyone’s favourite bird sighting, but I think their metallic blue heads are quite beautiful, and their overall appearance and movements are striking.
Common Grackles, familiar but beautiful birds.
Two birds very much associated with Algonquin Park in my mind (even though I’ve also seen both on the Lynn Valley Trail in Norfolk County) are common ascenders and descenders of trees. The Brown Creeper (Certhia americana) often swirls around a tree trunk as it descends and then begins to work its way up in leaps and bounds, plucking insects and spiders from their secluded hiding places. I wonder if the rapid spiralling descent is some sort of signal to other members of its species (I’ve seen Brown Creepers foraging in pairs, or more than two) or if it’s a way to locate potential prey for their way up.
Brown Creeper… creeping (more like leaping)… up a tree.
The Red-breasted Nuthatch (Sitta canadensis) doesn’t move up and down a tree in the same stereotyped way as the Brown Creeper, and it certainly stands out more from the bark with its attractive white-and-black face, blue back and red breast feathers. Nuthatches are renowned for their ability to walk head-first down a tree rather than up like most other bark-foraging birds (including Woodpeckers, Chickadees and Brown Creepers).
Red-breasted Nuthatch demonstrating its maneuverability at the end of a broken branch.
Possibly the most beautiful bird observation in the Pog Lake campground was this Yellow-rumped Warbler (Setophaga coronata). These birds are often migratory through more Southern Ontario, arriving in the coniferous forests of Algonquin in mid-to-late April to breed (Tozer, 2012). According to the Atlas of the Breeding Birds of Ontario (Cadman et. al. 1987), they will breed in coniferous or mixed forests across Ontario (though they are more abundant in the more Boreal regions).
Yellow-Rumped Warbler Montage (same individual).
Usually Insects are my focus, and part of the reason for that is their abundance, diversity, and accessibility. Because of the rainy and cool weather for most of my visit, there were not as many Arthropods out and about (at least not as noticeable). A few notables made themselves known however. One striking spider was resting on the side of my car.
Spider, on the side door of my car. Not sure of the species, but I believe it’s an Orbweaver (Family Araneidae).
A Northern Pearly-eye Butterfly (Lethe anthedon) was resting on someone else’s car and I had to snap a picture.
Northern Pearly-eye Butterfly spotted on someone else’s car (the car was parked, obviously).
A very impressive Insect sighting in the Pog Lake Campground came on our last day in Algonquin. I found a massive Northeastern Pine Sawyer Beetle (Monochamus notatus). The Sawyer was very cooperatively still on the cool damp morning, allowing me to get some really great closeups. It was also silent, despite being moved to a more convenient location for photos. That may seem like a strange observation to make, but apparently Longhorn Beetles (Family Cerambycidae, of which Monochamus notatus is a part) make a “squeak”, not with their mouth but with parts of their thorax rubbing together (Marshall, 2006).
Northeastern Pine Sawyer Beetle. I hope you can see why members of this Beetle Family (Cerambycidae) are called Longhorn Beetles.
A few points of interest for this particular Sawyer Beetle. As the image above demonstrates, its antennae were almost as long as the rest of the body which marks it as a female. The males are the ones with the really long antennae, often twice the length of the rest of the body. Here’s a male of the same species to show you what I mean. (photo from wikipedia):
It may be hard to see in my photo above, but these Beetles (including the female I observed) often have invertebrate hitchhikers. From a different angle it’s a bit clearer that my Beetle had a cluster of red Mites on her thorax.
Closeup of the M. notatus I found in Algonquin Park.
These Mites are presumably hitching a ride to dead/dying trees which the Beetle will be seeking (Monochamus beetle larvae feed inside of dead/dying trees). I’m not sure what the Mites will do once there, as Mites are incredibly diverse and have numerous ecologies and life histories and I don’t know what kind of Mites these are. The other interesting thing to note in my closeup picture above is the eye of the Beetle. Notice how it curves around in a crescent shape around the base of the antennae. Just thought that was sort of a strange arrangement for eyes/antennae. One more closeup shot of this Beetle because it was so cooperative:
Closeup portrait of M. notatus.
As I mentioned above, Insects are often what I notice and focus on. During our trip, I couldn’t help but take note of the wonderful beauty and diversity of some of the plant life in Algonquin Park as well. I suffer from “plant blindness” and I have been trying to rid myself of the condition as much as possible (see my book review of Flora of MiddleEarth for more on this subject). So I will end this post with a plant observation (and there will be more to come as I continue to write up my Algonquin observations). Throughout the Pog Lake Campground, there were some beautiful bright red berries amid ground-level green leaves. I found out that these plants are Bunchberry (Cornus canadensis).
Bunchberry Berries (and leaves).
Bunchberry has white flowers which spread pollen via the wind and insects in order to reach other flowers and reproduce (ie. form fertile berries). Amazingly, Bunchberry flowers are equipped with a mechanism to launch their pollen on an insect that triggers them, unfolding their petals at incredible speed to fling pollen onto the insect and up into the air (for possible wind-dispersal of pollen). This truly impressive feat is accomplished in 0.5 milliseconds. To put this into perspective, the Mantis Shrimp has the fastest movement of all Animals, and its record-holding strike lasts 2.7 milliseconds… five times as long as the Bunchberry flower petals take to open (Runtz, 2020). If that doesn’t make you want to pay more attention to plants, I don’t know what will.
Stay tuned… more to come from my trip to Algonquin, including more Birds, more Plants, and more Insects!
References:
Backhouse, Frances. Woodpeckers of North America. 2005.
Cadman, Michael D., Eagles, Paul F. J. and Helleiner, Frederick M., Atlas of the Breeding Birds of Ontario. 1987.
Marshall, Stephen. Insects: Their Natural History and Diversity. 2006.
Runtz, Michael. Wildflowers of Algonquin Provincial Park. 2020.
Tozer, Ron. Birds of Algonquin Park. 2012.
For Other Nature Observations in Algonquin Park, see:
And if you’re interested in seeing more of my photos and learning some facts about the organisms I’ve observed, follow me on Instagram at norfolknaturalist.
Norfolk Naturalist 