Subsequent days in the park had us spending time at the Pog lake beach and surrounding area. The fog swirling across the calm lake was a wonderful sight to begin our Algonquin days. One morning the shapes of loons speared the fog and then dropped below the still surface of the lake. Loons may be a common sight within the lakes of Algonquin park, but that does not mean that they are a boring sight at all. Their calls and dives are woven into the atmosphere of Algonquin Park.
The charisma of Loons did not prevent my eyes being drawn to the small living denizens of the beach area as well. Resting on a buoy was a Large Orthopteran (grasshopper/cricket/katydid) of some sort. This was a Roesel’s Bush-Cricket (Roeseliana roeselii), an introduced Katydid from Europe. There are two forms to this species, one long-winged, and one short-winged. I believe the one I spotted is of the longer-winged variety.
As the days progressed, more insect activity became apparent. A flower near the lake’s edge was visited by a bumblebee-look-alike: the Orange-legged Drone Fly (Eristalis flavipes). The larvae of this species feed within moist decomposing plant material and are known as “rat-tailed maggots” because of the long thin breathing tube that extends from the larvae. But the adults are beautiful bumblebee-mimics, one of many examples where one stage in an insect’s life is more attractive (to us) than another.
Nearby the flower was a pair of damselflies (Bluets, Enallagma) performing their heart-shaped coupling.
Part 1: The Male has clasped onto the female behind her head.
I’m unsure of the species but there are over 30 species of Bluets in North America (bugguide.net), so called because of the often bright blue colour of the male.
Part 2: Acrobatics incoming…
Damselflies have a strong ovipositor which they use to pierce vegetation in order to lay their eggs inside. Oftentimes, the plants they lay eggs into are partly underwater, causing the damselflies to stretch their abdomens beneath the water surface to cut into a suitable stem.
Part 3: Union.
There were other encounters within the Pog Lake Campground, but the most memorable for me were in a location separated by a walk from our campsite and the beach, a wonderful place I came to call “Warbler River”. That will be the subject of my next post.
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.
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.
In the interests of my own personal goals to post at least once a month, I’m going to re-publish my very first post on my first iteration of the Norfolk naturalist blog, which was on tumblr. I’m planning to re-post all of my articles that I wrote on my tumblr on this site at some stage (possibly with some slight updates/alterations) since I would like them all in one place, and my own website seems like the best place to have that. So here is my first Norfolk Naturalist post, originally published on my tumblr back in 2018 (over 4 years ago!):
While walking the trail near my house, I spotted a twig in an unlikely spot. Instead of forming the final split of a growing or dead branch, the tiny twiglet (just larger than my fingernail) was jutting out into the air from the railing of the bridge. Something strange was going on. On closer inspection, it turned out not to be a twig at all. Rather, a caterpillar had chosen a poor and rather conspicuous spot to hide.
If this caterpillar had chosen a better location, it surely would have fooled me. Even where it was, it was extremely difficult to spot. The coloration and shape of its back was a perfectly mottled gray-brown, and its posture was that of a twig. It was thin-bodied and elongate, only about a millimeter around.
The caterpillar’s odd shape is provided by it having a large space between what are its true legs (the six legs just behind the head) and its ‘prolegs’ which are fleshy stubs coming off of its abdomen. This large space also causes these caterpillars to move in a unique fashion. They lift the front group of legs and extend it forward, reaching ahead and securing themselves there. Then they lift their rear group of legs and move them forward to reconnect with the front legs. Once together, the rear legs hold their place and the caterpillar once more reaches forward with its front legs. This “inching along” process provides this group of caterpillars with their name: the Inchworms (Family Geometridae).
A caterpillar’s main predators are birds which hunt visually. If the caterpillar appears to be something other than a morsel to a hungry bird, then it has succeeded and survived another moment. This type of behavior has a technical name: “crypsis” or “cryptic behavior”, which just sounds amazing. It strikes this cryptic pose when threatened, and so effectively disappears from a hunting bird’s search. I suppose it must have assumed this position when I walked near, thinking me to be hunting it for food. In reality, I was hunting only for a few pictures.
I hope you enjoyed that “repost” from the older version of norfolk naturalist blogging. I promise I’m still working on My Top 20 Nature Photos of 2013-2020 series and I also have several other posts about more recent nature sightings in the works. Hopefully April will be a more productive writing month!
During our stay at Algonquin Park, I made a few trips down Opeongo Lake Road watching for wildlife. It’s a good place to see some of the rare creatures of Algonquin Park, as it forces you to go slow and there are wetlands and woodlands on either side of the road, ending in a lake. My sightings along this road were good even if I didn’t see any of the target species: Moose (Alces alces).
One of the most common species sighted on the trip were Great Blue Herons (Ardea herodias). It seemed as though these tall predatory birds were stalking every waterway, and I guess they might have been. Herons’ sinuous and powerful necks and the way they creep around slowly so as not to disturb their prey never ceases to catch my attention.
Great Blue Heron, stalking among the reeds (or rushes or sedges or something, I’m not a Botanist ok?).
Another common bird spotted in the water was the American Black Duck (Anas rubripes). Two years ago, I had a few of these Ducks visiting my campsite, searching for handouts and I assumed then that they were female or juvenile male Mallards (Anas platyrhynchos). When I posted my pictures from October 2019 on iNaturalist, the ducks were instead identified as American Black Ducks. They really do look like female Mallards superficially, the main difference being that female Mallards are “paler and sandier” and the bill is orange/black in the Mallard, whereas the American Black Duck has a greenish bill (Bull and Farrand, 1994). Because of changes in land practices and overhunting in the past, as well as hybridization with Mallards, the American Black Duck is rarer than it used to be. Within Algonquin Park however, the American Black Duck is one of the most common Ducks (Tozer, 2012).
American Black Duck
The other Duck (member of the Family Anatidae) spotted occasionally was the Wood Duck (Aix sponsa). Wood Ducks are remarkable (to me, at least) for nesting within tree-holes, something that seems strange for a Duck to be doing. I photographed a female Wood Duck leading a group of young across the marsh. Interestingly, the adult has something in its bill, I believe it’s the flower of a lily (Nymphaea).
Wood Duck female with a plant part in her mouth (lily flower?), and some young ahead of her.
One of the only Mammals* spotted on my trip was the animal responsible for creating some of the wetlands I observed: the Canadian Beaver (Castor canadensis). These giant Rodents (second in size among Rodents only to the Capybara of South America) engineer their surroundings, turning rivers into ponds where they create lodges. Beavers do not eat fish, unlike their smaller lookalikes, the Muskrats (Ondatra zibethicus).
*(the only other Mammals were the ubiquitous Red Squirrels (Tamiasciurus hudsonicus) and Chipmunks (Tamias striatus))
Beaver swimming through its marshland habitat.
Perched high in the trees or on wires was a Bird which I always confuse with Swallows (Hirundinidae): the Eastern Kingbird (Tyrannus tyrannus). This bird also has one of the best Scientific names ever, which is apparently because of its aggressiveness in defending its nest or territory, but also the “Kingbird” is because it has a crown of yellow (or sometimes red) feathers that is only displayed when its head feathers are parted in aggressive displays, which I have never seen (Cornell Lab of Ornithology website). This aggression in defending its nest extends to such formidable foes as crows, ravens, and hawks (Tozer, 2012)!
Eastern Kingbird perched in a tree.
The rarest sighting on the Opeongo Lake Road tours was a group of foraging Snipes, specifically Wilson’s Snipe (Gallinago delicata). I didn’t get amazing pictures, because they were far away and they were really difficult to keep track of. I love the way these birds move, so I also attempted to take a video of them, which isn’t great but it demonstrates the way they start and stop, dipping their long beaks into the marsh to probe for invertebrates.
Wilson’s Snipe(s?) moving through the marshes. At left, one is plunging its sensitive bill into the mud, at right one is stepping off a log with its large foot.
More to come from my Algonquin Observations series!
References:
Bull, John and Farrand, John Jr. National Audubon Society Field Guide to Birds of North America: Eastern Region. 1994.
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.
I recently spent a weekend camping at Port Burwell Provincial Park and took several photos of interesting creatures I encountered there (as I usually do on camping trips). One of the first creatures I encountered was a beautiful Flower Fly which hovered right in front of my face for a few minutes and even landed on my glasses, as well as several times on my hands. My Flower Fly Friend was an Oblique Streaktail (Allograpta obliqua).
Oblique Streaktail Flower Fly which landed repeatedly on my fingers and even on my glasses.
Flower Flies (Family Syrphidae) are wonderfully diverse and easily observed Insects, as they spend time hovering and landing on Flowers for the nectar they contain. In feeding on nectar, these Flies contribute greatly to Pollination, much like their similarly coloured models, the Bees and Wasps. I observed several other Flower Flies during my Port Burwell visit:
Common Flower Fly (Syrphus ribesii).Mating Pair of Margined Calligrapher Flower Flies (Toxomerus marginatus).
Most people don’t consider Flies beautiful, but that’s because they’re thinking of the House Fly variety, and not the colorful Flower Flies. Another beautiful fly I observed was this Ornate Snipe Fly:
Ornate Snipe Fly (Chrysopilus ornatus). Who says Flies aren’t beautiful?
The Snipe Flies (Rhagionidae) are predators as larvae in the soil where they hunt invertebrates, but as adults don’t seem to feed at all (Marshall, 2012).
Like my Flower Fly Friend, another Insect was quite content to wander over my hands. I’m not sure the exact ID of this Bug (a True Bug, that is a member of the Order Hemiptera) but I’m pretty sure it’s a larval Plant Bug (Family Miridae).
Plant Bug nymph (Family Miridae) on my fingertips.
The little Plant Bug was probably the smallest Insect I took pictures of that weekend. The Largest is much easier to determine, and was clearly this Waved Sphinx (Ceratomia undulosa) which was on the outside wall of the restroom, blending in fairly well with the bricks.
Waved Sphinx Moth blending into a wall.
Another Moth I observed couldn’t be more different from the bulky and camouflaged Waved Sphinx. This bizarre Grape Plume Moth (Geina periscelidactylus) doesn’t even look like a Moth at all because of its oddly shaped wings.
Grape Plume Moth (Geina periscelidactylus).
The forewing is the brown and white portion with a large notch carved into it from the outside. The hindwing has been transformed into three “plume” structures which resemble black-and-white wire brushes.
One other Moth drew my attention, but this one didn’t have any wings, because it was still in its Caterpillar stage: the Tussock Moth Orgyia leucostigma. These caterpillars have some of the most extraordinary decorations in our area. It’s possible the row of white tufts along their back resemble Parasitoid wasp cocoons in order to avoid subsequent parasitism, but I have no idea where to start explaining the bright orange head or black spiky tufts around its face.
Tussock Moth Caterpillar (Orgyia leucostigma).
It’s well known that caterpillars turn into Moths and Butterflies, but many people are surprised to find that “baby” Ladybugs look quite different from the roly-poly adults. During the weekend, I spied the intermediate stage, the pupa, of a Ladybug stuck to the top of a leaf. Within, a Ladybug larva was being rearranged into the far more familiar form of its orange shielded adult beetle.
Asian Ladybird Pupa (Harmonia axyridis).
There were a number of smaller orange Butterflies flitting about our campsite which were difficult to photograph. This is the best picture I could manage of the upperside wings:
One of this same species (the Northern Crescent, Phycioides cocyta) was resting inside the Dining Tent, allowing me a good photo of the underside of its wings:
The interior of the Dining tent provided many other Insect observations that weekend. I observed this same phenomenon in my own backyard in May of this year. For whatever reason, many Insects enter the tent and then possibly get trapped inside because they have difficulty relocating the entrance (and are drawn to the light visible through the roof of the tent). In any case, it often presents myself with picture opportunities of insects I might not otherwise observe.
Most of the Dining Tent insects were Flies (and these are the ones I got good pictures of):
Rhagio Snipe Fly.Horse Fly, I believe of the genus Hybomitra.Crane Fly (Family Tipulidae).
The majority of my observations were of Insects, and this reflects their abundance and diversity well, but I did have a chance to see a few Birds moving through the campsite. Most commonly spotted was a Catbird (Dumetella carolinensis) that seemed to have a particular liking for the berries that grew at the edge of the site. Flitting through the trees occasionally were American Redstarts (Setophaga ruticilla), fabulous black-orange-and white Warblers. Prior to this trip, I thought of the Redstart as a migrant, passing through Southern Ontario in the Spring and Fall. Since seeing it in Port Burwell in July, I have learned that the species breeds across most of Ontario during the summer (Cadman et. al. 1987).
American Redstart.
References:
Cadman, Michael D., Eagles, Paul F. J. and Helleiner, Frederick M., Atlas of the Breeding Birds of Ontario. 1987.
Marshall, Stephen. Flies: The Natural History and Diversity of Diptera. 2012.
For other posts about Nature Observations similar to these, see:
Probably the most commonly observed insect group in my backyard (at least observed with my camera) is the Order Hymenoptera (the Bees, Wasps, Ants, and Sawflies). Partly this is because they are one of my favourite groups, and partly it’s because they make good subjects for photography, what with the bees and wasps having a tendency to land and sit still (momentarily) on colourful flowers. These are some of the pollinator visits I’ve captured this month:
Unidentified Bee visiting my garden flowers.Bee in the Genus Andrena.I’m not sure what kind of Bee this is, but it’s coated in Pollen!This is a Chrysis cuckoo wasp, which gets its young into other Hymenopterans’ nests, much like the Cuckoo Bird does in other bird nests.
This next backyard visitor looks like another Hymenopteran, but is actually a convincing Bumblebee Mimic, a Robber Fly Laphria thoracica pretending to be a Bumblebee. This mating pair zipped through the garden up into a tree, so I had to use the telephoto lens rather than attempting a macro shot.
Mating Pair of Bumblebee Mimic Robber Flies.
Not all Hymenoptera were zipping through the garden from flower to flower. Some were setting up their homes there. One such home was the thriving Pavement Ant (Tetramorium immigrans) colony under a large rock in the middle of our flowerbed. Whenever the rock is lifted, the exposed larvae are whisked away by frantic workers. The flurry of activity is like a living explosion of insects when the colony is uncovered.
Pavement Ant colony in my backyard garden, larvae and workers exposed under a rock.
The other fascinating Hymenopteran homebuilding was the infiltration of leftover dried stems by Small Carpenter Bees (Ceratina). I watched one digging into the middle of the stems and was able to get some decent pictures of the process. Unlike the Ants, these Bees don’t work together in a colony, each female constructs her own nest and provisions it with pollen. Despite this lack of cooperation, there is parental care within the Genus. Ceratina females guard their developing young by waiting at the nest entrance and will even open up sealed nest chambers to check on them (Wilson and Carril, 2016). Looks like I’m going to have to take a second look at those stems…
Small Carpenter Bee excavating her nest in a dried and broken twig in my garden.
References:
Wilson, Joseph S. and Carril, Olivia. The Bees In Your Backyard. 2016.
In my backyard, I usually see a lot of Flies of various species, many of which I find difficult to identify. Flies don’t have the obvious characters or colours that other Insect groups have such as Butterflies and Beetles. There are two broad divisions of the Order Diptera (that is, the True Flies) which can be fairly easily distinguished. Nematocera roughly translates as “long-horned”, referring to their relatively long antennae and includes the Midges, Mosquitoes, Fungus Gnats and many others. Brachycera means “short-horned” and includes the House Flies, Carrion Flies, Fruit Flies, and dozens of other massive groups. As I mentioned in my post about observations at my Parents’ house, I’m reading through Flies by Stephen Marshall and it’s only reinforcing the bewildering diversity of Flies and Insects in general.
Incidentally, a Fly that I can’t identify landed on the book Flies as I was reading it in my house. There is a Family of Flies called the Ironic Flies (Family Ironomyiidae), but unfortunately this definitely isn’t one of them. That would have just been too perfect. My best guess for this Fly is a Fungus Gnat or a related Family (Sciaroidea).
A Mystery Fly that landed on Flies: The Natural History and Diversity of Diptera by Stephen Marshall while I was reading it.
All that being said, there are some Flies that I can now identify on sight such as this Common Picture-Winged Fly (Delphinia picta):
A Common Picture-Winged Fly in my backyard.
Others easy to identify (to Genus) are the Condylostylus flies which hunt small prey and display on leaves worldwide.
Bright Metallic Green Condylostylus are easily recognizable Flies worldwide.
Another group of Flies that I’ve become familiar with have one of the most unsettling Family names ever: the Flesh Flies (Sarcophagidae). The three black stripes on the thorax distinguish them from similar-looking Flies (Marshall, 2012). To make them even more unappealing than their name, many of these Flies lay eggs that hatch immediately after they leave the female, or they simply lay larvae that have already hatched. There are about 3000 species in the Family Sarcophagidae, and the ones I see in my backyard are likely in the Genus Sarcophaga. Within the Genus Sarcophaga there are 800 species, so they are very difficult to generalize about, with some of their larvae feeding on or within other insects, consuming dead vertebrates, or specialist parasitoids of spider or grasshopper eggs (Marshall, 2012).
Flesh Fly, possibly of the Genus Sarcophaga.
Another Fly observed within my own house is likely a member of the aptly named Window Fly Family (Scenopinidae), as I photographed it on the interior of my back door window. Although this Family of about 350 species is associated with various habits and habitats, they are named for the handful of species that are predators of human-habitat insects such as Carpet Beetles (Dermestidae), which is likely what my Window Fly was.
Window Fly (Scenopinidae), likely one of the human-associated species in the Genus Scenopinus.
The most eye-opening Fly observation of the month has more to do with the fate of the Flies, rather than the Flies themselves. I found two Flies in my garden in a bizarre position, one at the very end of May and one on the 1st of June. I’m unable to identify either species of Fly beyond the fact that they’re both Brachycerans. Each fly was positioned at the end of a leaf, clutching it with its legs and they were covered with what looked like white dewdrops bursting out of their bodies on tiny filaments. The filaments emerging from the fly bodies (the Flies were also quite dead or at least incredibly still and unresponsive) must have belonged to a type of Fungi.
First Fly I found infected by a fungus at the end of May. All of the whitish flecks across the fly’s abdomen and thorax are fungi.
Many readers may be familiar with the incredible footage in BBC’s Planet Earth of the Cordyceps fungus infecting ant workers and forcing them to climb into the tree canopy in order to release the fungal spores upon death. What might surprise you is that similar insect-infecting fungi are found not only in tropical rainforests but around the globe, even in my own backyard in Simcoe, Ontario. In fact, Cordyceps itself occurs in parts of North America (into the Southern United States), where it infects insects and causes similar scenarios to the one depicted in Planet Earth (Eiseman and Charney, 2010). There is an entire order of fungi, Entomophtorales, in which most species infect insects and other arthropods. If you’re interested in similar observations, there’s a Bugguide page devoted to this sort of thing. I have no idea which species infected these Flies in my backyard, but it’s fascinating to know that these sorts of complex interactions are occurring right where I live.
Another Fungal-infected Fly I found at the start of June. I’m not positive, but the long threads surrounding it could be fungal in nature as well.
Sometimes my reading and my outside explorations overlap wonderfully. This year I’ve been reading through Flies: The Natural History and Diversity of Diptera by Stephen Marshall, and it is an incredible book, one I will have to review on here at some point. One particular group of Flies that I came across while reading grabbed my attention: the Thereviidae. They’re known as Stiletto Flies, but what really struck me was the fuzzy white appearance of the adult pictured in the book. I thought to myself, I have never seen such a creature and would love to see one. Well, about a month after reading about that group of flies, I came across one very similar. I’m not sure that it’s the same genus, but it certainly seems to match the general look of the Acrosathe featured in the book.
A Thereviid Fly, possibly Genus Acrosathe.
I attempted to take pictures of the Bluebirds (Sialia sialis) that are at my parents’ place. I never see Bluebirds in Simcoe, so it seems they prefer more open farmland habitat. I was proud of myself, upon seeing the shape/size of the bill and the face that I thought they looked Robin-like. And it turns out that they are part of the Thrush family which includes the American Robin (Turdus migratorius). The Bluebirds kept their distance, so this is the best picture I managed.
Eastern Bluebird. Note the longish blunt bill reminiscent of their relatives, the Robins.
Another bird caught my attention in my parents’ garden by its beautiful song. I should have guessed its identity right then and there, since it turned out to be a Song Sparrow, but I’m very cautious in IDing small sparrows or sparrow-like birds in the field. Recently I’ve come to appreciate the diversity of these types of birds.
Song Sparrow perched in my parents’ garden.
The most exciting Arthropod find at my parents’ house, besides the fuzzy Acrosathe, was this Giant Mayfly (Hexagenia).
Giant Mayfly (Hexagenia).
When I arrived to take pictures of this individual it was somewhat entangled in a spider web, from which I freed it. The Spider owner of the web that caught a Giant Mayfly was suitably large and intimidating herself.
Long-Jawed Orbweaver (Tetragnathidae) that had caught the Giant Mayfly pictured above.
Two other notable observations should be mentioned, and both are Butterflies. In the sandy areas of my parents’ farm I encountered several Common Sootywings (Pholisora catullus) fluttering about.
Common Sootywing
And in the garden I managed to photograph a beautiful Northern Crescent (Phycioides cocyta) drinking nectar from flowers.
Northern Crescent, with its wings outspread, and wings folded for a look at its underwings which contain less colour but are still strikingly detailed.
For other Nature Observations like this post, see:
This is the second loop of my journey through the Big Creek Conservation Area Trail. For part 1, go here.
Having returned to the parking lot, I saw some amazing aerial masters. Similar to the Kingfisher and the Black Terns, I saw Barn Swallows (Hirundo rustica) maintaining a single position in the air, this time in groups. They were incredible to watch, and thankfully one landed for a moment so I was able to get a clear photo of it.
Barn Swallow, kindly sitting still for once for a picture.
It was only recently that I realized there were so many different species of Swallows in our area. Later in this same hike I took (very blurry) pictures of two other species: Tree (Tachycineta bicolor) and Northern Rough-winged (Stelgidopteryx serripennis) Swallows.
Tree Swallow (top) and Northern Rough-winged Swallow (bottom). Swallow pictures are usually blurry because they’re usually in constant motion.
I saw more Mute Swans, this time sleeping with their elongate necks tucked around themselves. In the picture below, you can really see how bizarre that long neck looks when it’s not extended.
Mute Swans, sleeping and preparing to sleep.
A small brown shape on the path ahead revealed itself as an Eastern Cottontail (Sylvilagus floridanus). Wikipedia says of this animal: “The cottontail prefers an area where it can hide quickly but be out in the open.” This seems to describe my sighting perfectly as the rabbit was fully exposed on the path, but disappeared into the plants at the edges as soon as I neared, and I was unable to spot it again.
Eastern Cottontail Rabbit frozen by my presence, until it disappeared into the vegetation.
One of the only Insect observations I made were some mating Deer Flies (Genus Chrysops). Although they cause pain when they bite and can be determined adversaries, when you get a good look at them you realize they are also quite beautiful. Look at those wonderfully strange eyes and patterned wings.
Mating pair of Deer Flies.
I had to pass through the Redwing assault again, and once through I saw the rarest observation of my hike. A black dome was crossing the trail at a decent rate for what I quickly realized was a turtle. In my excitement I couldn’t get the zoom lens to focus on the turtle for some reason. As I was trying to get a picture, I rushed forward, hoping to get a good picture of the turtle before it disappeared into the undergrowth that it was making for. While doing this, I startled something to my left. A Great Blue Heron (Ardea herodias) took to the skies, disturbed from its ambush site by the turtle-seeking human. I quickly snapped a couple of pictures of the Heron before moving forward, hoping to still find the Turtle.
The Great Blue Heron I disturbed while rushing toward my Turtle target.
After this mutual startling, I made it to the location of the Turtle, which had reached the shelter of the vegetation. I was still able to see the turtle (it was, after all, not moving incredibly fast) and took a few pictures of its shell. From this, I was able to determine that it was a Blanding’s Turtle (Emydoidea blandingii). I have only ever encountered Snapping Turtles and Painted Turtles before, so this was a very exciting sighting for me, even if I didn’t get a good photo.
My clearest shot of the Blanding’s Turtle as it barreled through the undergrowth.
Just a few dozens of meters further I came upon a young deer browsing in the middle of the trail. It still retained the spots of a fawn, and was smaller than an adult but certainly not a helpless baby. The deer seemed pretty unaware of me until I was quite close so I got some good pictures as it looked at me and after it saw me it wandered off into the marsh.
I could hear Marsh Wrens all around making their buzzing calls, but they are extremely difficult to spot and even more difficult to capture with the camera. This was one of my closest attempts, it’s almost as though the Wren is mooning me with its upright tail sticking out into the line of my camera instead of its chirruping face:
Most times in the summer, I have the Macro lens fixed to my camera because of the abundance of insect life, but on this trail I kept the telephoto equipped for all of the bird sightings I had. Near the end of my walk, I came upon a Dragonfly perched on the ground of the path and I was able to capture it adequately with the telephoto. It was A Blue Dasher Dragonfly (Pachydiplax longipennis), which occurs throughout most of the United States but only in the very Southern portions of Canada.
Blue Dasher Dragonfly resting in the path.
Ahead of me, meandering along the trail, was a pair of young Canada Geese (Branta canadensis). They were interesting to me, because they weren’t the Goslings following their parents and they weren’t Adult size either. The one appears to be much more “gosling-like’ than the other, which has started to acquire the characteristic facial markings of adult Canada Geese.
Young Canada Geese.
My final farewell to the trail this day was seeing a Heron stalking in the shallows, wreathed in fog. This Heron of the Mists was a perfect sendoff to my journey through the Long Point wetlands.
For previous posts about nature observations of this kind, see:
And if you’re interested in seeing more of my photos and learning some facts about the creatures I’ve observed, follow me on Instagram @norfolknaturalist.
Norfolk Naturalist 