Stinging Nettle. Food for Butterflies and Food for Us

I went for a walk yesterday morning, May 7, and noticed the nettles growing fast and furiously. The tender leaves are an invitation to gourmets who enjoy this healthy vegetable. I have never tasted it, but I think it is time to do so. I tried collecting a few leaves, but soon found out the sting was surprisingly powerful. I have picked up leaves in other occasions with little consequence. I may have to go back wearing gloves.

I found many recipes in the Internet. Garlicky pesto sounds promising. I will try that. Stinging nettle soup also looks tempting.

Early May is perhaps the best time to collect leaves. The plants are already tall and vigorous and, when I collected them yesterday, they seemed free from hungry visitors. However, I am surprised the next day when I look at the leaves in their plastic bag. They are now crawling with tiny aphids.  Last year I found aphids eagerly sucking juices from these plants on May 12. Close observation of the aphids under a microscope led me to notice the impressive structure of the stinging hairs. Interspersed among the regular hairs, considerably larger but still small enough to go unnoticed by the bare eye, the stinging hairs look remarkably different. They are shaped like hypodermic syringes and bursting with fluid, ready to pierce the passerby's skin.

Aphid and stinging hairs

Insect activity grew significantly by June of last year. These plants turned into a zoo of sorts. Aphids abounded on many plants. Large, fat caterpillars were feeding on leaves. Some were hiding within neatly folded leaves shaped as tents. Others had already turned into immobile, colorful chrysalides.

Red admiral caterpillar

Red admiral pupa or chrysalis

Adult red admiral

I was happy to learn that such caterpillars would turn into the lovely admiral butterfly. Nettles can feed several other varieties of caterpillars, the comma butterfly and the spectacular Io moth among them.

Comma butterfly on winter attire

Io moth © Anita Gould

In summary, stinging nettles can enrich a diet and be a worthy addition to a butterfly garden.

List of articles

© Beatriz Moisset. 2013

Plastics are not part of the web of life

A view of garbage.

© Parvathisri. Wikicommons

Let me repeat this: Plastics are not part of the web of life. They do not truly recycle but downcycle. They inexorably accumulate despite the best efforts at recycling because the circle cannot be completed, so this cannot be called recycling. At best what we are doing is downcycling, modifying used plastics into lower grade plastics that can be used once or at most twice in some other form. After that, they reach the end of the line.

© DondeReciclo.org

The consequence is that plastics keep accumulating in the landscape. Horrific examples abound: dead albatrosses with stomachs full of plastic fragments; turtles and other wildlife chocked to death by plastic rings; fish full of plastic. Worse yet, the smaller fragments are out of sight, but not entirely out of the picture. Some may be inert but many others are potential carcinogens and toxins. If they are eaten by animals, they become part of the food chain. Are we eating our own plastic garbage? We probably are.

Dead albatross chick.

© DuncanWright. Wikicommons

 What to do? We may not be able to eliminate plastics entirely. Some plastics are useful, even highly valuable and we don't have to give all of them up. But we could start with the disposable, one-use only plastics, such as grocery bags and water bottles. They represent the largest bulk of plastic waste and there are easy ways to cut down on their consumption.

One-use bottles

Two great books should be helpful if we commit ourselves to the task of plastics: "Plastics, a Toxic Love Story by Susan Freinkel gives abundant information on plastics, their history, uses and recycling."Plastic-Free:How I Kicked the Plastic Habit and How You Can Too" by Beth Terry is equally informative. It is also packed full of suggestions on how you can reduce plastic usage. It also provides numerous useful links.

As for me, I have been taking steps toward reducing plastics. I take my reusable bags wherever I go, not just to grocery stores, but also other stores. Sometimes the cashier of a book store or drug store automatically reaches for a plastic bag, without noticing that I am holding my bag in front of him or her. In such cases, I promptly stop them with a smile and tell them: "We have to help the environment any way we can". I say it loud enough that other people in the line can hear me. I used to be embarrassed, but no more. I do my best to be cordial and to emphasize the word "we".

When eating out, I carry my own container and bag. When the waitress offers a doggy bag, I tell her I don't need one. I am not surreptitious about it anymore. Once again I speak loudly about helping the environment.

Biodegradable plastics.

© Christian Gahle, nova-Institut GmbH

I still don't know what to do with all the grocery items that come in plastic containers; although I am beginning to keep track of "green" stores that make an effort to provide egg cartons rather than Styrofoam ones, cardboard salad containers and similar items. But there is still a long way to go.

What suggestions do you have

List of Articles

© Beatriz Moisset. 2013

Milkweed's last hooray. Part two

Polished lady beetle (Cycloneda munda) on dying milkweed leaf

The milkweed food chain would be incomplete without predators and parasitoids. Most of them are out of sight in November; but a few are around feeding on whatever is available, mostly aphids.

Multicolored Asian lady beetle (Harmonia axyridis) pupa

Two species of ladybugs or lady beetles find abundant food on the dying milkweeds. A shiny adult polished lady beetle (Cycloneda munda) may be getting ready to hibernate. A little farther a pupa of the multicolored Asian lady beetle (Harmonia axyridis) stays still on a leaf. It is rather infrequent to find one so exposed. This one is darker than most pupae of this species, but as its name indicates, color variations abound. In another month it would become an adult, out of its pupa. It would turn out darker than most of its kind.

Multicolored Asian lady beetle adult

 Another type of aphid eater is present in numbers and feeds on the two species of aphids mentioned in the previous post. The larvae of syrphid flies are blind and worm-like, lacking legs. Despite these disadvantages, they have no trouble finding aphids to feed upon, provided that the mother was careful enough to lay her eggs near a growing and prosperous colony of aphids.

Syrphid larva (Eupeodes americanus)

Syrphid larva (Eupeodes americanus)

It is impressive to see these maggots thrashing around until they find a plump juicy aphid. They hold it with their strong mouth parts and proceed to suck all the internal fluids until the prey is reduced to a deflated piece of skin. You can see the front end of the larva acting as a pump, expanding and contracting. Oddly, the other aphids in the colony have no fear, no premonition of what is in store for them. I have seen them approaching and then walking all over a syrphid maggot in total indifference.

 

 

Syrphid larva (Eupeodes americanus)

 

In a couple of weeks this will be all over. No more active life in the milkweed patch; just a few flying seeds carried by their fluff. The monarchs are long gone. All others remain in the area in hidden places safe from the weather and from the occasional winter predator. They will all return to their usual activities next year, when the milkweeds start sprouting new shoots and providing nourishment to them.

Milkweed's last hooray
List of articles

© Beatriz Moisset. 2012 

Goats Put to Service at Pennypack

If you go for a walk at Pennypack Ecological Restoration Trust, you may run into some unusual workers recently enlisted to deal with weeds.

My friend and I went there for a walk last Monday and came upon four goats inside an enclosure made of electrified wires. These handsome creatures were merrily munching away brambles, multiflora roses, and oh joy, poison ivy!

Three young men wearing green shirts with the Pennypack logo were putting the final touches on the signs alerting people about the electric wires. We were full of questions for them and were pleased to see them eager to talk.

They told us that restoration programs have started using goats to control invasive vegetation, particularly in the West, and also in Staten Island, New York. Sometimes goats are more effective and more economic than herbicides or weed-whacking. Thus, these fellows convinced the director to start a goat program at Pennypack.

The four goats arrived last Easter and were put to work a month later, after a period of acclimation. Until now they had been doing their weeding job in secluded areas out of sight of visitors. This was their first day in a more visible place by the main trail. It is the visitors' turn to get habituated to the goats and to begin to appreciate their restoration services.

Before and after. November 12, 2012

Before and after. November 16, 2012

Everyday, these eager workers are brought to a patch in need of clearing and left there until dark. They may have to return to the same spot the next day if they haven't finished the job. After that, they are gradually moved to other patches. The goats spend the night in a roofed shelter safe from coyotes. Did you know that there were coyotes in Pennypack? Now you do.

I returned four days later to inspect the progress. The enclosure had been moved a short distance from that of the first day. The happy animals seemed to never stop chomping away at brambles and vines. At first, it wasn't easy to tell what they had accomplished; but after I found my bearings I could see that, in fact, they had disposed of a significant amount of tangled vegetation. They had also munched on the bark of some tree branches. They are not to blame for being so indiscriminate. It is the human handlers' responsibility to place them only where they can do no harm to valuable native plants.

The plan is to restore the goat-cleared areas by replanting them with native plants. This method beats using herbicides. It also beats using human workers, especially when poison ivy is abundant or when the mats of vegetation are impenetrable. Bear in mind that goats may cause damage to valuable plants if given the opportunity; so precautions are needed.

I will continue checking periodically on these four legged employees of Pennypack.

Invasive vines waiting to be disposed of by goats

Beatriz Moisset.11/17/2012

List of Articles

© Beatriz Moisset. 2012

Milkweed's last hooray

Striped garden caterpillar, Trichordestra legitima

It is November. We are deep into autumn. Monarch butterflies stopped feeding on milkweeds and are long gone from this area. Milkweeds are wilting, dropping leaves, some covered with sooty mold, and others reduced to dry stems and seed pods. Still they continue to nourish and shelter a number of species that depend on them.

A noctuid moth, the striped garden caterpillar moth (Trichordestra legitima), spends the winter as a pupa. An occasional caterpillar hangs around this late in the season taking advantage of the last scraps of food. Unlike monarchs, it is not choosy. This one happens to be feeding on common milkweed but others find nourishment in an incredible assortment of plants, from asparagus to yarrow or tobacco.

Oleander aphid, Aphis nerii

Aphids are busy sucking juices from the few remaining green stems and leaves of milkweeds. Their colonies are usually considerably larger this time of the year. The most frequent species on common milkweed is the oleander aphid (Aphis nerii), a bright yellow-orange one.

Myzocallis asclepiadis

Less common is the aphid called only by its scientific name, Myzocallis asclepiadis, about the same size as the oleander aphid, almost translucent, with dark dots and often seen sharing plants with its more colorful relative. Myzocallis asclepiadis specializes on Asclepias, as its name suggests. The oleander aphid has broader tastes, living on other members of the dogbane family (Apocinaceae), as well as occasionally some plants of the potato family. This aphid is not native to this hemisphere, and, curiously, there are no males in the North American populations, so they only reproduce parthenogenetically or by virgin birth.

Labidomera clivicollis, larva

Labidomera clivicollis

 A colorful beetle, the swamp milkweed leaf beetle (Labidomera clivicollis) is not as selective as its name indicates and also feeds on common milkweed, as this larva was doing. It is unusual to find a larva still feeding in November. There was an adult nearby.

large milkweed bug, Oncopeltus fasciatus

A common denizen of dry and dying milkweeds is the large milkweed bug (Oncopeltus fasciatus). Both adults and juveniles (called nymphs) feed on seeds of this plant as well as leaves. So it is not surprising to see them in large numbers in November.

Soon all these milkweed visitors will be gone, too. The one that will remain will be the longhorned milkweed beetle (Tetraopes tetrophthalmus). Its larvae will remain buried underground feeding on roots and waiting for next spring.



Beginners Guide to Pollinators and Other Flower Visitors

List of Articles

© Beatriz Moisset. 2012

Invisible Bird Food in the Foliage

On a gorgeous end of summer day, I visited the wildflower garden of a local nature center with the intention to capture with my camera some of the wildlife, flower visitors, in particular. Unfortunately, I realized on arrival that I didn't feel well and needed to rest. So I stretched out on a bench under a gazebo, using my handbag as a pillow.

I rediscovered a simple truth: If you remain still and silent, nature comes to you and shows you things that you would have missed otherwise. A toad peeked from under the next bench, remaining in the moist coolness and shadows. Birds sang, flew, and dove into the foliage to emerge again, perhaps near me. A butterfly almost bumped onto my face.

Finally, one of those confusing fall warblers, a Wilson warbler perhaps, landed just ten feet from me. I am hopeless at identifying those drab olive and yellow little fellows. It proceeded to browse delicately from a jewelweed. I wondered what food it could find there. Some detective work was in order. I rested a little longer and then I got up to investigate.

I saw some holes on the leaves. Insects had been feeding; but they were long gone judging by the scar tissue around the wounds. Still the possibility remained that a similar leaf feeder was present when the bird landed. No way to know, though. Also, I couldn't guess whether the long-gone eater had been a caterpillar, sawfly or leaf beetle larva. My detective skills are severely limited in this respect.

Further observation led me to the mummified body of an aphid, not worthy of a bird's attention; but a clue nonetheless. Where there is one aphid, almost invariably there are more. It didn't take me long to find clusters of fat juicy green ones under the leaves of the jewelweed. I would have never noticed the well hidden aphids if the bird had not brought them to my attention.

Although I cannot be sure, I suspect that this was the morsel that the warbler was after. The insect life in the garden is rich and mostly out of sight. It feeds the birds, more skilled than us at spotting this nutritious resource. And thus, the web of life goes on.

List of Articles

© Beatriz Moisset. 2012

Turtles, Shorebirds, and Us

The sun rises above a Florida beach. Dark creatures the size of sand dollars scurry across the sand toward the water: baby turtles, born in the last few hours and rushing toward the safety of the ocean. Many others have taken this road from nest to water line through the night. Darkness provided relative protection from hungry predators. These latecomers face a danger that grows by the minute.

Hundreds of shorebirds have taken notice of the bounty and even invited others with joyous screams. They skillfully dive, beaks and claws at the ready, picking up one delicious morsel after another. Many of the newborns fall prey to the hungry mob, but others pass through the gauntlet and reach the safety of the waves.

You tell me that you worry about the turtles and fear for the survival of the species after reading that populations have been declining steadily. So you chase the birds away.

I tell you how the turtles have been laying eggs on these shores for eons. Birds have been helping themselves to the feast for just as long. They have not driven the turtles to extinction, and they are not likely to do so. They have succeeded in molding the turtle's physiology and behavior, though. That is why most baby turtles emerge at night; that is why they make a dash toward the water; that is why they are shaped the way they are. If raccoons were more abundant than birds, turtles would respond to the nocturnal predation and eventually most of them would emerge during the day rather than at night.  

Nature tends to keep things in balance. In its cruel arithmetic, most babies are not supposed to live. To maintain the turtle populations, all it takes is two hatchlings reaching adulthood and reproducing for each egg-laying female. And each female lays hundreds of eggs not once but many times in the course of her lifetime, most of them doomed to die without reproducing.

No, I say, the most serious threat to sea turtles doesn't come from predators. It comes from us, humans. Pollution, electric lights, heavy beach traffic, both by foot and by vehicles, pets on the loose, fishing nets, human-caused climate change . . . all these things combined put turtles and many other creatures at risk of becoming extinct.

I love the spunky baby turtle and its determination to survive. I also love the graceful seabird that preys on the innocent little turtle. I love all creatures and enjoy their beauty. But I love the web of life even more. Its exquisite quality is hidden from ordinary sight. Understanding it takes observation and careful thought. The marvelous intricacy of the web of life connects all creatures and makes possible their existence. So, you and I would do better to ignore the predatory birds. Instead, let us work together in preventing or mitigating the ecological damage that all of us continue to inflict on the planet.

Beatriz Moisset. Oct. 2012

List of Articles

© Beatriz Moisset. 2012