Remembering Another Mentor

I had intended to make this post years ago. The subject deserves better. He is the late Leonard L. Wiley of Portland, Oregon. Though my relationship with him was brief, he made a lasting impact. He may have felt the same way about me, as you will see.

© The Oregonian

Mr. Wiley passed away in 1987, at the age of eighty-two. He was introduced to me by my father. As a jeweler, my dad knew Leonard as a diamond dealer. I was told that Mr. Wiley carried the precious stones in a brown paper back, and also carried a large revolver. I can vaguely attest to seeing the diamonds, laid out on the counter at my father’s store.

Leonard Wiley was best known to the rest of society as a world class botanist and writer. He authored the books Rare Wildflowers of North America (1968), Wild Harvest (1966), and The Granite Boulder: A Biography of Frederic Homer Balch (1970). He was also a regular contributor to Northwest Magazine in The Oregonian newspaper. It was in this capacity that we are forever connected.

The following is a transcript of an article Mr. Wiley wrote about me, published in The Oregonian on August 23, 1970, after he, myself, and my parents had gone on a day hike in Oneonta Gorge, a location adjacent to the Columbia River Gorge that divides Oregon and Washington. The title of the piece is “Just ask this nine-year-old: Leonard Wiley found that Eric asks no foolish questions.” Enjoy his wonderful writing style….

”Eric Eaton and I went to Oneonta Gorge to learn about wild plants. Before taking to the trail I opened a book and pointed out how to tell the difference between the Vine Maple, Acer circinatum, and the Smooth Leaved Maple, Acer glabrum. Both of these tree-shrubs resemble each other very closely and are found in this area.

Eric missed the first one we came to but quickly spotted the second. This achievement of a nine-year-old boy was more than I would expect from most adults.

Every person who has brought joy and happiness in my life I originally met merely by chance. And it was this factor that brought me Eric’s friendship. I had some business to transact with his parents, Bob and Violet. I was introduced to the small boy about a year ago and at first wasn’t much impressed for Eric is not the kind of a person who tries to impress with his importance.[LOL!] In fact he told me on the trail that he does not know much. Maybe so. But I have known a couple of PhD’s who know less.

Science is knowledge possessed as a result of study or practice. When does a person become a scientist? When his zeal and enthusiasm for his particular branch of learning dominate his life. With most, if it comes at all it arrives during maturity. Eric was a scientist before I ever heard of him.

Highly talented people are often lopsided. But Eric is well rounded socially. He plays with his school mates, gets along well with young and old and, at first, appears like most any other boy of his age.[I disagree with almost all of this, but it is his article….]

I like him immensely – and I’m also a bit afraid to engage him in a conversation. If you pitch a curve at him he’ll knock in a home run. I discovered this the hard way. I gave him a chameleon [Green Anole lizard] to help cement a thriving friendship. He looked at it critically and asked ‘Is it a male or a female?’ What the devil do I know about such things? Without consulting a book he told me. Now, when I think a certain subject will come up at our next meeting I get out my books and dig deeply.

He has little interest in money [still true!]. His meager allowance and funds obtained from odd jobs all go into books. His natural history library comprises about 50 volumes as well as subscriptions to various scientific journals, some of which I had never heard of before. His teachers think he is a fine student. They also think they earn their salaries. I agree with them. I have never head Eric ask a pointless question. When he makes a remark or asks for information you better have a sensible answer unless you enjoy making a fool of yourself.

On the trail he never looked back. His eyes roved to left and right, searching for something interesting. He fund a plant with the flowering stem arching over the trail. ‘What do you suppose that is?’ I told him that it was the False Solomon’s Seal. ‘Wow, what a name!’

At nine it is unreasonable to expect him to be the world’s most talented diplomat. As I was wobbling along the rocky trail Eric commented ‘You were hiking when you were younger.’ I gave him a brief ‘yes’ and changed the subject.

Our first botanical ordeal came early on this excursion. We came to an old rock slide. Eric: ‘What’s all this moss doing on these rocks?’ If you think this is a stupid question you aren’t very bright yourself.

I pointed to some lichens tightly growing n the surface of some of the rocks. These primitive plants somewhat resemble rocks. They are among the first plants to attack rocks in the process of disintegration into soil. A medium size lichen may be a hundred years old. Nature is in no hurry. After the lichens are established the mosses and liverworts in vade to speed the break down of the stones. Then the ferns follow. Finally the flowering plants appear. It may take a truck load of centuries for these assorted plants to produce soil. It is very important to life itself.

As we walked along the trail his mother told me a few more things I didn’t know about the boy. He is the resource expert on nature in his third grade class. But his interest in nature started in kindergarten where he discovered dinosaurs. If he wakes in the middle of the night he talks about nature. The Eatons have a lively time.

Stumps have a remarkable fascination for Eric. We examined every one we found near the trail. Those a little farther away drew comment. This, of course, slowed down our progress. Finally Bob called out, ‘Eric, do you have to look at every stump?’ Eric pays no attention to questions of this kind. I showed Eric the mosses and liverworts n some of the stumps while there were ferns and flowering plants on others. One tree had a hollow stump. I reached in and pulled out a handful of debris composed of leaves that had blown in and decayed parts of the inner trunk. This material had largely turned into soil. The other way soils are created.

We discussed a great many other botanical subjects too but the decayed vegetation and the disintegration of rocks seemed to impress Eric the most.

I am sure there are many other boys [and girls, and agender persons!] like Eric in the world but I consider myself fortunate to know one of them.”

Wow, I must have bottled up my enthusiasm for insects during that hike, though it explains my obsession with stumps. I do hope that I have made Mr. Wiley proud with my chosen career path. He showed me that sharing your knowledge with others can have a profound impact.

Sadly, there is hardly an online trace of Leonard L. Wiley, save for his books, which find themselves on sale at various websites. I may need to learn how to make entries on Wikipedia. He certainly deserves to be remembered.

"Bird Food"

Recently, in certain circles, insects have come to be defined as “bird food.” I was going to devote this post to describing why this is offensive, because it is, but it also occurred to me how hilarious this is, because it is that, too. Let us begin.

Western Meadowlark with sphinx moth caterpillar

The first question that may come to mind is, “What is not bird food?” Like pretty much all animals, birds need protein matter to grow, and fats and carbohydrates to burn for energy. Berries, seeds, insects, and small vertebrates are all on the menu for at least some birds. There is obviously the need for resource partitioning among them all in any given habitat or ecosystem.

Spiders. Insects are spider food, but we do not want to bring those arachnids center stage, because they are even more revolting than “bugs.”

Heck, back in the day, we were probably bird food. Some five hundred years ago, the now-extinct Haas Eagle, known in legends of the Maori as te Hokioi or Pouakai, is thought to have been capable of killing human children. It was a real bird, but there are obviously no firsthand accounts of its predatory behavior. At least we did not encounter the giant, flightless “terror birds,” members of the long-extinct family Phorusrhacidae, which ruled parts of modern-day South America during the Cenozoic era, pre-dating humans by a wide margin.

Turkey Vultures

According to the old cinematic and television westerns, dead people were frequently bird food. If old Festus hadn’t been seen for a while, the other cowboys would go looking for him. The next camera shot would be of vultures wheeling high above, and you knew that, sadly, they had found him. Today, we understand that vultures circling overhead means they are riding thermal updrafts. If they start descending, you know that they spotted poor Skippy.

Furthermore, insects are food for nearly every other organism. They are, arguably, more important to bats than birds. More important to anteaters, the aardvark, aardwolf, certain bears, marmosets….You get the picture, it is a complex network. Spiders. Insects are spider food, but we do not want to bring those arachnids center stage, because they are even more revolting than “bugs.” Please.

A crab spider female, Misumena vatia, with an arctic butterfly, Oenis sp.

The basic message I am sending is that to single out insects in particular as “bird food” is silly at best, and misleading at worst. Framing insects as bird food is, however, easily converted into memes, and other over-simplified media services. We are doing the natural world a disservice by dumbing-down its complexities, and certainly by turning other organisms into one-dimensional entities. We do not approve when other humans are racially-profiled, stereotyped, and pigeon-holed. Right?

Whatever it is that birds do for you, in visceral and emotional terms, is what insects do for me.

I get it. The bird food message is an attempt to convince homeowners and gardeners to landscape with native plants to feed the caterpillars and other insects that in turn feed the birds. That works on those who already understand the way nature works. Most people do not. Will they tolerate insects more now because “my [bugs] bring all the [birds] to the yard*?” Maybe, but not likely, and any necessary application nuances for their particular biome will be lost on them.

A much better message would be one lodged in economics. The average household can save an enormous amount of money in maintenance, and possibly water use, by replacing lawnscapes and ornamental plants with native grasses, forbs, shrubs, trees, and vines. Everyone can comprehend that dispensing with the mower, fuel or electricity for it, and expenditures on fertilizers and pesticides is a “win” for their pocketbook as well as the planet.

Chipping Sparrow and queen Western Yellowjacket

The overriding problem, from my perspective, is that categorizing insects as bird food demeans any other human interest in insects. It prioritizes “your birds” over “my insects.” That air of superiority is what is offensive. Whatever it is that birds do for you, in visceral and emotional terms, is what insects do for me. Please understand that, and respect that my passion for insects is no less admirable and valid than your enjoyment of birding.

* Modification of the lyric “milkshakes bring all the boys to the yard,” from “Milkshake,” a song by Kelis.

Conflicting Advice Is Killing the Rewilding Movement

All the major figures leading the modern conservation movement agree that converting your yard into wildlife-friendly habitat is the most important and impactful thing you can do to turn the tide of bird and insect decline. As for how to do that, there is precious little agreement to be had. The result is analysis paralysis, and the “lawnscape” continues to dominate urban, suburban, and even rural areas.

"No Mow May," or "No, go ahead?"

This happened to myself and my partner. We finally own a modest home in Leavenworth, Kansas, with modest yards in front and back. Our goal is to begin planting native flora, but we were confronted with opposing recommendations on how to begin. “Kill the lawn with a single application of glyphosate” says one authority. “Suffocate it” advised another party. Heck, do we even have a lawn to begin with? Sure, there is some grass, scattered among thick patches of henbit, red deadnettle, violets, dandelions, plantain, wild….garlic?

"Before" we did anything

The result is that after over a year of living here, my wife finally took the initiative to start burying a section of the yard under a layer of carboard covered in mulch. Now we wait four to six weeks….”No, it will likely take four to six months” said someone commenting on our proud social media post. Great. Next, we will hear “till once!” versus “no, don’t till at all!”

We need to stop circulating memes and sound-bite articles in the media….We want the easy fix, but it is rarely the best avenue.

I agree that one has to be patient. Nature generally operates at a snail’s pace, while we are now too eager after having flailed in the turbulent seas of “how-to” recommendations. We should know better, of course. We should learn from our previous experiences, however few.

Here comes the cardboard and mulch!

At our previous home in Colorado Springs, Colorado, where we lived in a townhouse, we had about a 5x10 “yard” in the back, a tiny patio adjacent, and a shed, with a fence enclosing all of it. We planted milkweed in hopes of attracting Monarch butterflies. It was at least three years before the plant flowered. Oh, it proliferated underground, sending up shoots all over the place, but it was at year five before we found Monarch caterpillars. Garden gratification is seldom instant.

Where things stand right now....

We also put up a “bee condo,” a block of unfinished wood with holes of various diameters drilled into it. This effort did yield almost instantaneous results. Leafcutter bees and mason wasps began nesting. We also had sapygid wasps that parasitized the leafcutter bees. Neat fodder for blog posts.

Many experts now claim that bee condos are about the worst thing you can do. They attract parasites, become infested with mites and fungi, and are basically deathtraps for the very insect pollinators we are supposed to be helping. You need to replace the cardboard tubes inside the bored holes, if that is your style of bee block, or at least clean the cavities with a brush and dish soap diluted in water. I’m not sure exactly when you are supposed to do that….

Here in Kansas, bees simply nest in our siding. LOL!

Further, are we not giving bees and wasps enough credit for choosing healthy nest sites? They clean out cavities before they begin nesting anyway. Even in natural situations of old beetle borings in logs and dead, standing trees, there are always cuckoo wasps, leucospids, and others lurking, eager to parasitize the nests of other wasps, and bees. That is the way nature works.

Clover *does* feed the bees, and fixes nitrogen for other plants, but surely someone else will tell you differently....

Oh, I forgot about the dandelion controversy. Leave them, they are necessary resources for early-emerging pollinators. No, dandelion pollen and nectar has very low nutritional value. They do more harm than good. Do away with them….but, but….”No mow May!”

The bottom line is that recommendations will change based on new scientific research, and the collective experience of those gardening for wildlife. However, there is no one solution for every situation, every geographic location, every soil type, nor any other element that varies. We need to stop circulating memes and sound-bite articles in the media that claim otherwise. We most definitely need to stop the implied shaming of anyone who disagrees.

Daisy Fleabane "volunteers" in our yard and we are "weed tolerant."

We want the easy fix. It is in our human nature, but it is rarely the best avenue. Resist the impulse to jump on the latest bandwagon, and consult your state chapter of the Native Plant Society instead. Consult the list of noxious weeds for your state and eliminate any you find. Otherwise, be “weed tolerant” and see if most of those plants volunteering themselves are actually native wildflowers. Never use pesticides, fungicides, herbicides, or even fertilizers. Indeed, the soil is itself an ecosystem of microbes, and symbiotic fungi that enhance the vigor of plants.

Here at Bug Eric blog, I promise to continue sharing my own experiences, good and bad, and recommend dependable resources to further your own pursuit of biodiversity enhancement. Let me know what has worked (or not worked) for you. I will pass that along as well. Above all, please act, with whatever information you have already garnered. The inertia of inaction is the enemy of rewilding.

White Prairie Clover: An Awesome Blossom

I am not a botanist by any stretch of the imagination, but I am pretty sure that the insect magnets in the shortgrass prairie field up the hill from my home here in Colorado Springs, Colorado, are White Prairie Clover, Dalea candida. What follows is a sampling of the many bees, wasps, butterflies, flies, and other insects that come to the flowers of this plant; and a little information on Dalea in general. Much of the pollinator enhancement literature touts Purple Prairie Clover, D. purpurea, so one has to dive deeper.

A cuckoo bee, Nomada sp., forages while a male sweat bee, Lasioglossum sp., approaches

Prairie clovers are in the pea family Fabaceae. White Prairie Clover in Colorado occurs from 3,400-7,200 feet in elevation, and blooms from June to August. It is a low-growing plant, flowers on stalks up to two feet tall, but the ones I see are no more than one foot tall and sometimes difficult to discern among the tall grasses, cacti, and yucca they share the prairie habitat with. This species is widespread from the Front Range across the Great Plains, north to Saskatchewan and Wisconsin, and as far east as Tennessee, Georgia, and South Carolina.

Common Checkered-skipper, Pyrgus communis

The flowers are arranged in a cone, and bloom from the bottom to the top. The cycle can last up to a month, providing insects with pollen and nectar over a longer period than most flowers, and often at a time when few other plants are blooming. The down side to this plant, from the perspective of the photographer/entomologist is that insects quickly move to the side of the flower opposite the photographer, where they are hidden from view, then fly to another florescence and repeat. I missed a good number of opportunities because insects move across the flowers so speedily.

Male Hunt's Bumble Bee, Bombus huntii

Bees of all stripes seem to enjoy White Prairie Clover, and male bees may visit not only for nectar but for mating opportunities with foraging females. I saw far more male sweat bees, Lasioglossum (subgenus Dialictus), for example, than I did females. Even male bees can be sufficiently hairy enough to perform pollination services, even though they are not gathering pollen to feed to offspring. This is especially true for bumble bees and longhorned bees.

Sweat bee, family Halictidae

Female mining bee, Calliopsis sp.

Male longhorned bee, tribe Eucerini, family Apidae

Cuckoo bee, Triepeolus sp.

A second species of Triepeolus

Butterflies visit the flowers, too, mostly for nectar, but the caterpillar stage of some species feeds on the foliage of Dalea. This is the case for the Southern Dogface, a rather scarce species here in Colorado. In addition to the butterflies shown here, I also spotted a Variegated Fritillary making a brief stop on a blossom.

A "crescent" butterfly, Phyciodes sp.

Two Reakirt's Blues, Echinargus isola

At least one moth visited White Prairie Clover during my two separate observations: the Jaguar Flower Moth, Schinia jaguarina.

Jaguar Flower Moth, Schinia jaguarina

Wasps were highly diverse and plentiful visitors, but made some of the shortest refueling stops of all the insects observed.

Great Golden Digger wasp, Sphex ichneumoneus

Thread-waisted wasp, Ammophila pictipennis

Female Ammophila procera

Male Ammophila procera

Ammophila ferruginosa

Black & Yellow Mud Dauber, Sceliphron caementarium

Male sand wasp, Bembix sp.

Male beetle-killer wasp, Cerceris sp.

Male beewolf wasp, Philanthus ventilabris

Male thynnid wasp, Myzinum sp.

Female thynnid wasp, Myzinum sp.

Cuckoo sand wasp, Stizoides renicinctus

Flowers that are attractive to pollinators are also attractive to their predators and parasites, and that was certainly obvious during my watch periods. The bee assassin, Apiomerus sp., was somewhat surprising because the bug is so conspicuous atop such a small flower. I suspect it was having little or no success. Meanwhile, the odd, cream-colored ambush bug, Phymata sp., could achieve proper concealment, even to the point that I recall seeing only one when there were surely many.

Bee assassin bug, Apiomerus sp.

Thick-headed flies accost bees or wasps in mid-air and ram an egg between the victim's abdominal plates. The fly larva that hatches then feeds as an internal parasite. This often kills the host, but not always.

Thick-headed fly, Zodion sp.

Thick-headed fly, Physocephala sp.

My personal experience is that white flowers, or at least pale flowers, attract a far greater diversity of insects than red, blue, or purple flowers, and even more than yellow flowers in some cases. It is puzzling to me that few pollinator advocates bother to reveal that fact. Maybe because everything is bee- and butterfly-centered, and still color-intensive in the landscaping sense, white flowers get short shrift in recommendations for the garden.

Grasshopper wasp, Prionyx atratus or Prionyx subatratus

It may be worth it to harvest seeds from wild plants, but please do not dig up mature White Prairie Clover. The plant has a deep taproot. One may also wish to consult their state's Native Plant Society for potential sources of seed. The plant flourishes in full sun and dry soils, requiring only a medium quantity of water.

Green-eyed wasp, Tachytes sp.

I will try and produce more floral-themed, pollinator-rich posts in the future to help readers in making landscaping decisions that support native plants as opposed to exotic ornamentals and inappropriate cultivars. Feel free to make suggestions as to additional resources.

Mason wasp, Euodynerus sp.

Sources: Holm, Heather. 2017. Bees: An Identification Guide and Native Plant Forage Guide. Minnetonka, Minnesota: Pollination Press LLC. 224 pp. Useful mostly for Upper Midwest U.S.
Mader, Eric, et al. 2011. Attracting Native Pollinators. North Adams, Massachusetts: Storey Publishing. 372 pp. A Xerces Society guide.
EasternColoradoWildflowers
WildflowerDotOrg
Prairie Nursery

(Most) Butterflies are Not Pollinators

I hate to burst your bubble, but most butterflies are not pollinators. They are eye candy. Butterflies are best described as "flower visitors" that are there seeking nectar, a carbohydrate, to fuel their flight. They could generally care less about pollen. It may actually be a nuisance that builds up on their bodies and has to be groomed off to maintain the insect's keen senses of smell (antennae), and vision (eyes). They pollinate by accident, thanks to pollen getting trapped in body hairs. Pollen grains probably clog the proboscis, too, as that "tongue" is a complex assemblage of several tubular and sheath-like mouthparts that actively pump nectar from the flower into the butterfly's digestive tract.

Painted Lady Butterfly

To be fair, there is one class of butterflies that actually eats pollen: The Heliconiinae subfamily of the brush-footed butterflies (family Nymphalidae). These are the "longwings" that are favorites in the tropical butterfly house industry. Longwings fly rather slowly, often at eye level or lower, and have a great diversity in species. There is even strong diversity in color pattern within a single species. They make near perfect display animals in captivity. They also have greater longevity as adults because they have the capacity to ingest protein in the form of pollen.

Heliconius erato longwing butterfly

Heliconius sapho longwing butterfly

When contemplating planting a "pollinator garden," prime consideration should be given to bees, hummingbirds, moths and flies. Butterflies will be attracted regardless, but the real pollinators need to be your target. Planting native species should take priority over gaudy ornamentals that too often become invasive in the natural landscape, and/or are too demanding in terms of fertilizers, pesticides, and other artificial life-support chemistry.

Sweat bee, Lasioglossum sp., on a composite flower

Tolerate "weeds!" One man's weed is another species' wildflower. Wild composites, that is, flowers in the aster family, are greatly preferred by most insects because they can visit more than one flower at one stop, reducing energy expenditures from flying blossom to far-flung blossom; and the flat surface of composites affords them a greater field of vision to watch for approaching predators. Few insects want to literally dive head-first into tubular flowers, though many bees do so all the time, and I have seen sulphur and swallowtail butterflies do so.

Black Swallowtail caterpillars do eat fennel, dill, anise, and parsley

Tolerate caterpillars! Many people fail to see the link between the butterflies (and colorful moths) they love, and the larvae they loathe. You cannot have one without the other! Planting host plants for caterpillars will arguably do more to attract butterflies to your garden than planting nectar-rich flowers. Remember, too, that plants have their own built-in chemical defenses to protect themselves; and even if defoliated, they can recover. A complete garden ecosystem with all its checks and balances in the form of herbivores, predators, parasites, fungi, soil fauna, and other organisms, is far less expensive to maintain than one that is micro-managed with pesticides and herbicides. Save time and money by choosing the right plants initially, and learning from reputable, unbiased sources what insect species are truly harmful and which are ones you can live with, if not encourage.

Leafcutter bees (Megachile spp.) will nest in holes drilled in wood blocks

Think native bees. The apiculture (honey bee) industry is a powerful lobby, and has largely convinced the general population that honey bees are the *only* bees. The overwhelming majority of bee species are native, and solitary or semi-social in their habits. Agriculture needs honey bees, no question. Your garden, and wild habitats, do not. Consider putting up bee boxes for housing our native, solitary bees. Their traditional nesting sites are being plowed under, paved over, and cut down at such a rate that they can use artificial homes.

Bundles of hollow twigs attract solitary bees that nest inside them

Lastly, I will say this for the Monarch butterfly. They are large insects, powerful enough to effectively pollinate milkweeds. Milkweeds package their pollen in sticky bags that are not easily dislodged from the flower. You can usually find bees, flies, and other insects that have become mortally stuck to milkweed flowers, unable to extricate themselves. Large wasps, large bees, and large butterflies are among the few insects able to effect the pollination of milkweeds. Learning which insects effectively pollinate which plants is also key to making your own garden or yard a "pollinator paradise."

Monarch Butterfly