Grand Finale

Versute Sharpshooter (leafhopper), Graphocephala versuta

Every bugwatcher knows it’s coming in the late fall, and both delights in it, and mourns for the lost spring and summer, quickly fading from memory. That encore of insect abundance, from heavy, arthritic grasshoppers lumbering up wooden fences, to sun-seeking lady beetles, eager to find snug crevices to pack themselves into for the approaching winter.

Differential Grasshopper, Melanoplus differentialis, male.

Multicolored Asian Lady Beetles, Harmonia axyridis, nestle in bark furrows on a tree.

This year, here in Leavenworth, Kansas, the Indigenous Summer has been long, hot, and hopelessly dry. It seems to matter little to most of the insects, but birds stopped visiting our feeders. We saw dozens of gulls passing over for a couple of days, though, bright white against an azure sky, the wind speeding them along.

Juvenile Tuftlegged Orbweaver, Mangora placida

The air is thick with the exuberance of the minute, now that the larger butterflies are scarce, no longer competing for our attention. Dreamcatcher spider orbs snag the micro-confetti of aphids, leafhoppers, and gnats that are on the wing, or that get torn from their perches by the stiff, incessant wind.

Cloudless Sulphur, Phoebis sennae, female.

Falling leaves jerk my eyes in their direction, on the off chance that they are butterflies after all, like Eastern Comma or Question Mark, or the less common Goatweed Leafwings. Leaves that rocket from the ground skyward are grasshoppers sporting autumn yellow, orange, or black hind wings. The largest ones, with clear wings, that land in trees, are bird grasshoppers.

American Bird Grasshopper, Schistocerca americana.

Political campaign signs in our front yard are sometimes briefly occupied by insects or spiders. The spiders try to balloon off, or seek shelter in the little tunnels of the corrugated plastic. I like to think that they are all signaling their approval, but they are actually endorsing the more natural state of our property, our decision to not use chemical treatments of any kind, and otherwise steward the place through benign neglect.

Microleafhopper, Erythroneura calycula

Microleafhopper, Hymetta anthisma

Microleafhopper, Erythridula sp.

Microleafhopper, Balclutha sp.

Microleafhopper, Erythroneura elegans

Leafhopper, Pediopsoides distinctus

Walking the fence line in our back yard, I stir a myriad of tiny leafhoppers that alight briefly on the weathered, algae-stained boards. Despite their size, they are riotously colorful, with streaks and bands across their slender wings. Fireworks come in both bright and muted colors that echo the changing foliage.

A male Fork-tailed Bush Katydid, Scudderia furcata.

Earlier in the season, katydids and lacewings were vivid green. Now, they are dull brown, maybe reddish, with bursts of purple or pink. Little orange skipper butterflies pop as I stroll by the tiny lavender asters that grow low enough to dodge the mower blade, along the very edge of the curb by the busy four-lane. Yellows in the form of Cloudless Sulphurs, on a partly cloudy day, flitting from one cryptic flower to another in someone’s front yard.

A little worn, a Fiery Skipper sips nectar from an aster.

Flowers, too, bloom again. The goldenrod, and taller white asters reboot themselves for one more round of Can I Get a Pollinator?. They do, in flies and bees mostly. Wild Carrot never gave up to begin with, still looking fresh as a daisy, courting potential pollinators. They succeed, in the form of two metallic flies. The flies depart when a lone ant appears to steal nectar.

A flower fly, Helophilus fasciatus, and a Spotted Cucumber Beetle, Diabrotica undecimpunctata, enjoy goldenrod nectar.

Another October surprise….no, wait, today is November the second already….is an immature Carolina Mantis, sitting stock still among our backyard goldenrod. It is probably one molt away from adulthood, but I can’t decide if it is male or female. I wonder if there are any larger insects left to feed it, get it over the hump, or if it will die young, perishing as the teenage equivalent of its kind.

Immature Carolina Mantis, Stagmomantis carolina

There has finally been rain lately, including today, so perhaps there will be yet another burst of activity in its wake. There will still be ground beetles crossing the sidewalks, and grasshoppers basking on the pavement on warm days, to be sure. Fall Cankerworm has yet to even take the stage, but they don’t always, not every year, and I might not see them if the timing isn’t right.

Leaf-footed bug, Leptoglossus oppositus.

There is no metaphor here. This is just how nature works. It varies, it adapts, takes chances, weighing risks at a molecular level. Emerge now, or snooze another calendar year. We are slower to act, built to react instead of evolving to be proactive, and to accept whatever weather befalls us. The warm, sunny days seem to encourage our lazy nature, while nature bustles around us, unnoticed by most.

Aphid, Drepanaphis sp.

Fall (Bug) Colors

October is the heart of autumn in many parts of North Amreica, with intensifying colors of fall foliage. Insects reflect the changing hues of plants, the better to camouflage themselves. As chlorophyll recedes, xanthophyll (yellow) and other carotenoids (orange), begin to manifest. Anthocyanins (reds to purples) become prominent, too. Could it be that insects feeding on those leaves take on the same colors? Perhaps the insects are merely responding the shrinking period of daylight as the leaves are doing.

As leaves begin falling down, alate (winged) citronella ants, Lasius sp., fly up, in hopes of finding mates from nearby colonies.

Greens persisting

This year, here in northeastern Kansas anyway, an exceptionally dry summer has resulted in subdued fall colors. Green leaves persist, even if they are withered from a record-breaking hard freeze last week. Some insects insist on being wholly green, or at least partly so.

A male lesser meadow katydid, Conocephalus sp., basks on a sidewalk.

Green Mantisfly, Zeugomantispa minuta, on the side of our house.

Nymphs of the Pale Green Assassin Bug, Zelus luridus, will overwinter in that stage.

Ah-ha! It is Bristly Roseslug sawfly larvae, Cladius difformis, doing all this damage to our roses.

Straw

Beige is an overwhelmingly common color of fall in pastures and fields, and even lawns thanks to our current drought. Insects of the same color merge seamlessly with grasses and weeds, becoming nearly impossible to detect unless they move. On windy days it is even more of a challenge. Thankfully, for entomologists and bugwatchers, insects frequently alight on, or are blown onto, sidewalks, the sides of buildings, and other surfaces where they stand out.

A Corn Earworm moth, Helicoverpa zea, attracted to a blacklight in our front yard.

This stink bug, Thyanta sp., has highlights of rose and green, too.

A jumping spider, Colonus sp., prowling the exterior of our house.

Yellow and gold

Many insects with warning colors are bright yellow, and black, regardless of the seasons, but in autumn they complement the colors of plants.

A Cloudless Sulphur, Pheobis sennae, pauses in our flower bed.

A Goldenrod Soldier Beetle, Chauliognathus pensylvanicus, in the absence of flowers, looks forlorn on the side of our house.

A worker Eastern Yellowjacket, Vespula maculifrons, lingers on a hosta leaf.

One yellowjacket mimic is this syrphid flower fly, Helophilus sp.

Orange and red

Orange and red are less common colors in insects, and often part of the loud wardrobe of aposematism (warning colors), or mimicry of other insects that are well-defended by venom or toxins. Lady beetles defend themselves by autohaemorrhaging, or “reflex bleeding,” from leg and body joints. An alkaloid toxin in the haemolymph is aromatic and sticky, quite repulsive to would-be predators.

Eastern Comma butterfly, Polygonia comma, will overwinter as an adult, hidden in a crevice in a log, or a similar niche.

Some checkered beetles, like this Enoclerus ichneumoneus, are likely mimics of velvet ants (which are wingless female wasps with a potent sting).

Multicolored Asian Lady Beetle, Harmonia axyridis, is also known as the "Halloween Ladybug" for the time of year it is most conspicuous as it seeks winter shelter on or inside buildings.

Worker citronella ants, Lasius sp., are a lovely orange or yellow.

Metallic colors

Many insects are iridescent, often vividly so. Whereas the preceding colors are expressed by pigments that absorb all wavelengths of light except the one we interpret as brown, beige, green, yellow, orange, or red, or black, iridescent colors are produced by a different mechanism. These structural colors are rendered by micro-sculpturing, and/or layering, of the cuticle of the animal’s exoskeleton. Light bounces and reflects, and the color we see varies depending on the angle of the light hitting the organism.

Many longlegged flies, family Dolichopodidae, have bright metallic colors, and run rapidly over the surface of leaves.

Metallic sweat bee, Augochloropsis sp(?), pausing to groom herself.

"Greenbottle" blow flies are brightly metallic green, copper, or bronze.

"Bluebottle" blow flies, Calliphora sp., are weakly iridescent on the abdomen.

White and multi-colored bugs

A few insects are white, or appear so at least. This is especially the case for true bugs that exude waxy secretions to protect themselves from desiccation and make themselves distasteful to predators. Leafhoppers display almost every color combination imaginable in patterns of spots, blotches, stripes, bands, and speckles.

Whiteflies are not flies, but tiny, wax-dusted relatives of aphids.

Drepanaphis sp. aphids are studded with spikes that help hold in place the white wax they secrete.

A teneral male Familiar Bluet damselfly, Enallagma civile, has subdued, pastel colors compared to the vivid blue it will have eventually.

Versute Sharpshooter leafhopper, Graphocephala versuta, is a tiny living rainbow.

Until next time

Keep looking for colorful “bugs,” deep into fall. Some will enjoy your rotting Jack-O’-Lantern. Others will find their way indoors, preferring the same comfortable climate you yourself enjoy. Meanwhile, I will do my best to keep cranking out blog posts to help you identify them. Stay warm and dry, friends.

In Praise of Aphids and Scales

When the flowers of autumn are gone, when even the asters are fading fast, where is a wasp or bee or butterfly to go for sustenance? The answer may surprise you, and turn your concept of what is a "pest" on its head.

Highly active, flying insects like bees, wasps, flies, moths, and butterflies rely on high carbohydrate resources like flower nectar to fuel their vigorous lifestyle. When those normal floral resources are no longer available, the insects must travel down other avenues. Fallen, fermenting fruits are one solution. The high sugar content of an apple, pear, or peach beginning to rot does not go overlooked by yellowjackets and paper wasps in particular.

Western Yellowjacket with conifer aphid at center left and Pine Needle Scale at center right

Pomes and other fruits are not, however, the answer to autumn insect nutrition. The overwhelming majority of sweet, sugary carbs are provided by other insects, namely aphids and scales. At this time of year, aphids in particular are feeding on plant sap in earnest, and excreting copious amounts of liquid waste called "honeydew." Infested trees are literally dripping with honeydew, and a great diversity of other insects are drawn to this equivalent of the corner bar.

Conifer aphids and their shocking large eggs

Many aphid species are also transitioning to alternate host plants for the coming winter. This is why you see so many aphids on the wing, landing on your plate at the tailgate party, and otherwise providing a tiny but prolific nuisance to outdoor activities. The aphids thus need their own fuel, and it takes a ridiculous amount of plant sap to yield that result. Xylem and phloem are notorious for being nutrition-poor, so sap-sucking insects cycle those products rapidly through their digestive systems. Liquid honeydew comes out as fast as sap is going in.

Even this Painted Lady butterfly is enjoying aphid honeydew

Social wasps tend to dominate the scene at fall aphid colonies. Because the wasp colonies are winding down, if not finished altogether, their paper palaces have emptied totally and there are now vastly more individual wasps out in the field than there were earlier in the year when many workers were inside the nest feeding the larvae, building new cells in the comb, and engaging in other housekeeping chores. With no purpose left to serve except their own individual survival, worker yellowjackets might qualify as unstable or mentally-ill were they human beings.

A blow fly literally getting its licks in

Meanwhile, flies, the normal prey of many social wasps, are free of worry from the purposeless wasps and fearlessly rub shoulders (humeri?) with them at the aphid honeydew banquet. The aphids themselves are still vulnerable to flower flies (family Syrphidae) that lay their eggs in the colonies. The fly larvae that hatch eagerly feast on the aphids, along with lady beetle larvae and lacewing larvae.

Larva of a syrphid fly that preys on aphids

Here in my Colorado Springs, Colorado neighborhood, ornamental conifers seem to be real aphid magnets. The trees are no doubt at least a little weakened by their circumstances of planting, isolated from other trees in soils that are not always compatible; and maybe (probably?) minus the symbiotic fungi they need to help them get their own complete nutritional requirements.

Striped Pine Scale on ornamental pine

Scale insects, too, afflict these pines, firs, and spruces. Scale insects are relatives of aphids, but are even more sessile, often covered in a hard, waxy shell secreted by the insect. The "lump" is thus a living lid over the insect that created it. Like aphids, scales secrete honeydew as a waste product. If you are unaccustomed to recognizing scale insects, it is easy to be perplexed by the wasp and fly activity. Even butterflies and moths will be flitting around inexplicably.

A tiny ichneumon wasp visits the honeydew saloon

So, the aphid colony is a bustling place at this time of year, the last epicenter of "bug" action before the leaves finally fall and the killing frosts finish off those insects still commanding our attention. They still survive, of course, hidden from view, often in life cycle stages we would not recognize as insects until spring returns them as such.

The yellowjacket trap at bottom right was not nearly as attractive as the "aphid tree" next to it

Enjoy this last hurrah of bugdom. You can easily approach the buzzing horde without fear, so intent are they on feeding. Worry not of stings, though be careful where you reach and step. This is no season to be barefoot to be sure.