Silver-spotted Skipper Revisited

With a wingspan of 1.75 to 2.5 inches the Silver-spotted Skipper (Epargyreus clarus) is the largest of the skippers. But being the largest of the skippers doesn’t make it LARGE compared to some moths and butterflies.

The Silver-spotted Skipper is certainly the skipper that I see most often as I check out the trails here on my mountain and enjoy my gardens. As my Dad would say, they seem to be ubiquitous! As adults they use their long tongues or proboscices to slurp up the nectar of blue, red, pink, and purple flowers, and minerals of mud, and even animal feces.

A Silver-spotted Skipper caterpillar.

The primary host plant of Silver-spotter Skippers is the Black Locust Tree. Others are plants in the legume (Fabaceae) family.

Impressive false orange eye spots!

The young caterpillar creates a “tent” folded in a leaf of its host plant where it spends days, venturing out at night to feed on leaves of the host plant. The host plant, often a Black Locust or Bush Clover, or False Indigo. Older caterpillars will move on to create a larger “tent” for themselves using more than one leaf.

Smooth False Foxglove

To some degree Smooth False Foxglove (Aureolaria laevigata) is a parasite, depending a bit on its host plant, the mighty Oak Tree. It can be referred to as a partial plant parasite, a semiparasite, or a hemiparasite. This means, it is not entirely dependent upon the roots of an Oak Tree for all its sustenance. This plant has chlorophyll and performs photosynthesis. It’s sort of a parasite. But not entirely.

This is in contrast to plants that are entirely parasitic – holoparasites. A holoparasite does not perform photosynthesis and depends exclusively on their host plant for nourishment. This native to eastern North America, Smooth False Foxglove uses roots called haustoria to connect to the roots of its host Oak Tree to absorb sugars and proteins. Along with its host Oak Tree, Smooth False Foxglove flourishes.

Katydids

An August night. Open windows. Insects making lovely sounds in the inky darkness. A precious friend of mine told me that when her children were young they believed the night sounds of summer were the stars singing.

Those sounds in the night in reality are Katydids (Tettigoniidae). Cool green insects. In North America there are about 255 species of Katydids.

Most Katydids are noctunal and those sounds you hear in the night are their mating calls. This sound is made by rubbing a hind leg on one wing. They have flat patches on their legs that act as ears which allow them to hear the sounds that are made during the night.

Like moths, leave on your porch light and Katydids will be attracted to the bright light.

Katydids have the perfect camouflage for leaf-eaters, looking just like the leaves they are eating. They’ll also eat flowers, dead insects, insect eggs, or aphids that are slow enough to be caught by the Katydids. But I will always remember the thought of those beautiful stars on a warm summer night singing like a chorus of Katydids!

Ironweed

Got a spot in the woods? If you do, I hope you have this plant somewhere close by. An amazing color and a beautiful flower. Ironweed. Quite possibly New York Ironweed (Vernonia noveboracensis), but then again it might be Upland Ironweed (Vernonia glauca), or Tall Ironweed (Vernonia gigantea). These three species all reside in Virginia and to add to the confusion they hybridize. So I won’t go out on the proverbial limb and try to identify which species my photos contain. They are Ironweed!

This photo above is an Ironweed, lakeside at Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden, in Richmond, Virginia. In less formal settings you’ll find them in ditches, edges of ponds, moist meadows and stream banks. But they are also quite happy on drier mountain slopes that get full or partial shade, as my gardens can attest. If you have Black Walnut trees around, Ironweed is tolerant of the juglone that those trees present as a challenge to gardeners.

In looking very closely at the blooms of Ironweed, I immediately think of itty bitty bighorn sheep, looking out through the intense magenta petals of the disk flowers. Those curlycue, white, “sheepsheads” that I see are actually the split stigmas of each individual flower.

A host plant of the American Lady Butterfly, Ironweed also attracts many species of bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds. I love having these flowers here in my gardens, both as gifts to me from dear family, and volunteers.

Nodding Onion

Nodding Onion (Allium cernuum) are abloom right now, surely to the delight of many fairies in the wood.

Bees are attracted to the blossoms. But in facing down, the blooms discourage other pollinators which hesitate to hang upside down to feed on the nectar or pollen. Nodding Onion is native to North America.

Though a beauty to gaze upon, the bulb and grass-like leaves of Nodding Onion have an oniony scent. Not the floral scent one would expect from such a charming pink blossom.

Red-banded Hairstreak

Red-banded Hairstreak (Calycopis cecrops) is native to the southeastern United States. As a caterpillar it has an unusual food source, the fallen leaves of Sumacs, Myrtles, some Oaks and other trees.

A mighty teeny butterfly, its wingspan is 1 inch to 1.25 inches, though you’ll seldom see it with its wings open. As a butterfly, the Red-banded Hairstreak lives just 4 to 10 days. This one, nectaring on a Winged Sumac appears to have had quite rough though short life.

The Dewberry Experiment

The Dewberry (Rubus invisus) plant is quite insistent. It wants to be where I don’t want it. Somehow it knows such things. But back in May of this year I decided to give it a chance. Give it a spot to demonstrate what its benefits are. This plant loves rocky soil and enjoys shade, even full shade. Perfect for the conditions here at my place. It is a plant that extends its presence with trailing stems meandering along the surface of the soil. With unpleasant little thorns. Ugh!

These berries are the result of my experiment. A benefit to the birds that frequent the trees here on the side of the mountain. Birds that lift my heart. Now, with the end of my analysis, learning the benefit the birds get from this gift of berries, I think I’ll be more tolerant, more sympathetic and more encouraging in the future. Helping the Dewberry plants to areas where they will be welcome. Guiding them away from gardens that I maintain in my prim and proper way. My gardens that are my canvas to express my artistic style. In my dreams!

Winged Sumac

Winged Sumac (Rhus copallinum) making a not so subtle statement. Look out! Here it comes! Brilliant leaves here now. Rich red, warm orange, soft yellow. Fall is on its way. Use your observation skills. The colors are here and there. Look. Take note. Hints throughout the woods. Replacing the various shades of green with the spice of autumn. It is just the beginning. Things to come. Happening now.