Last week’s birds

Al Denelsbeck

It seems only fitting (perhaps that’s not the right word) that we start off with something that is not birds.

sapling against sunrise showing numerous spiders
Shooting sunrise on Jordan Lake last week, I did a quick silhouette with one of the tiny, unidentified trees/bushes that appear sporadically out into the water a short ways (actually, this may be a buttonbush, Cephalanthus occidentalis.) Not the most prepossessing of plants, given the terrible shape of the leaves, but I was after the prominent long-jawed orbweaver spider, and only afterwards realized that I’d caught more than one – in fact, I’ve made out at least seven different spiders, or parts thereof (like legs peeking out) in this single frame, though granted, some of them require full resolution to discern.

But okay, on to the topic of the day.

osprey against sunrise on Jordan Lake
As the sun was just making its appearance over the trees, a lone osprey (Pandion haliaetus) cut across the sky, probably not able to see the sun fully from its altitude, but at least catching direct sunlight. The yellow color of the sky and the faint wisps of clouds indicate that it was a boring sunrise, but it’s central NC, so what else is new?

The great egrets (Ardea alba) were at least appearing here and there, not terribly active, but occasionally allowing some closer shots. One flew into a tree nearby, a little surprising, and sat up there preening even though we were obviously very close by.

great egret Ardea alba in top of American sweetgum tree Liquidambar styraciflua
I liked this particular pose, aside from the sharp focus, because the egret’s head was held at just the right angle to cause its own cornea to light up the eye so distinctly while that portion of the head was shadowed. But only moments later, it fixed us with a faintly suspicious look before returning to its preening.

great egret Ardea alba in top of American sweetgum Liquidambar styraciflua looking directly at photographer with kinked neck
Definitely get the impression that the egret slept wrong last night, and also that we met with its disapproval somehow – probably has a thing about groundlings.

At another section of the lake, about a kilometer off, the vultures were congregating not just in great numbers, but without much regard for our presence either.

turkey vulture Cathartes aura peering at photographer over its back while sunning
This turkey vulture (Cathartes aura) was at the edge of the parking lot at the boat ramps and had spread its wings for the morning sun as we crept closer, then peered at us straight over its back. Moments later, it decided that it was being too obvious and folded the wings with a bit more modesty.

A short distance away, a large number of black vultures (Coragyps atratus) were hanging out, mostly down near ground level, which allowed some great portrait opportunities, if you’re inclined towards that kind of thing.

black vulture Coragyps atratus in tight portrait
To the best of my knowledge, I wasn’t looking especially on the verge of dying (at least not any more than normal,) and I saw no indications of other food sources nearby, but they definitely were clustered around as if waiting for a handout. I made a joke about not having any dead crumbs, which passed completely without notice – I’m unappreciated in my time. Likely long afterward, too, but it sounds better this way.

I definitely don’t see enough of the red-headed woodpeckers (Melanerpes erythrocephalus,) and a trio, at least, provided some bare opportunities as they flitted among several trunks surrounding us. They allow me to provide a small illustration, anyway.

red-headed woodpecker Melanerpes erythrocephalus perched on dead trunk in profile
There were a pair working up this dead trunk, but they didn’t want to show themselves at the same time. However, since I was shooting against the brighter sky, with nothing else in the frame (and this is cropped tighter, so you can imagine that the non-sky portion wasn’t very significant,) I had dialed in some exposure compensation, 2/3 stop overexposed, or at least, over what the camera logic considered ‘proper,’ which is a middle tone, what’s called, “18% grey.” Without it, the photo would likely have been a bit dark, more than ideal, though it could be argued that this is a tad bright. Now we face in the opposite direction.

red-headed woodpecker Melanerpes erythrocephalus perched on trunk with backlighting
This is with the same compensation, now almost directly towards the sun (it was pretty high at this point, but in that general direction.) Even with the compensation, the frame is far too close to a silhouette, though admittedly, there were two other trunks in the frame (cropped out here) skewing the exposure reading slightly. What it shows is that getting a decent exposure while aiming into the sky can be tricky, and it’s a good idea to bracket the exposure whenever possible – a lot harder to do with hyperactive subjects that hold a decent pose for a mere second, but that’s how it goes in nature photography. Luck plays a large part, and exploiting that luck plays another.

Speaking of that…

osprey Pandion haliaetus landing on overhead branch with small fish
Spotting this osprey as it cruised in to a landing spot allowed some nice detail as it touched down in a tree almost directly overhead, a great opportunity, but I knew we were too close for comfort and it would be unlikely that the osprey would consume its meal there. We fired off the frames while we could.

osprey Pandion haliaetus showing better view of its fish snack
Not exactly a huge meal here, and we saw no views of any osprey in the area actively hunting. I wanted the eyes of both the osprey and the fish in the frame, though with the bird bobbing around on its perch, this wasn’t something to actively time – just fire off the frames and see what you got afterward. And then…

osprey Pandion haliaetus looking directly at photographer as autofocus tracks to intervening branch
… that sonofabitch autofocus picks the exact moments when the osprey looked directly down at me to track in to the branch instead! Listen, I think autofocus is a marvelous application of technology, and it’s improved every year, but it still has far too many imperfections and quirks, which is why I frequently switch it off. I really want it on a thumb button, though, and not on a switch (one among four) on the body of the lens, especially since it sits right next to the vibration control switch and feels exactly alike.

A portion of this is my fault, though, since I programmed the camera to bias autofocus to track closer when it lost its lock. Here’s how it works: handholding a heavy lens with high magnification is tricky enough, and it takes the slightest twitch to have the subject leave the autofocus area of the frame – this is made even worse with moving subjects, or subjects high overhead where the position of holding the camera (and your own head) becomes awkward. I set the the AF to tend towards moving in slightly when it lost focus, for three reasons. The first is that it’s far too easy for the camera to then try to grab the horizon, much farther than the subject all too often, and by the time it tracks back the subject has been rendered so far out of focus that regaining it, sometimes even seeing it, becomes difficult and time-consuming. This was occurring too much as I tracked a bird in a dive and it crossed the horizon line, whereupon I’d miss the crucial entry into the water. Additionally, it more cases than not, the bird was actually coming closer, so tracking inward helped these circumstances. And finally, tracking inward (especially with the focus limiter on, which prevented the focus from traveling closer than 10 meters,) would more often not go as far out of focus as going to the horizon, so the camera would regain focus faster. All this does increase the chance that it’ll grab an intervening branch, however. I’d like to be mellow enough to say, “So it goes,” but more often, the response is, “goddamnitall anyway.”

Suffice to say, the osprey flew off immediately following this, so the 4-6 seconds of photo opportunities ended there. I could easily have missed all of the shots, or even seeing the osprey at all, so I’m well ahead of the game with a few nice frames. But still…

Something for both of us

Al Denelsbeck

trio of pink trumpet flower Brugmansia blossoms
The Girlfriend likes her trumpet flowers (Brugmansia,) and to keep last year’s in good shape, it overwintered in the antechamber that houses the water heater, never getting too cold through the winter. However, it didn’t leaf out at all in the spring, and she finally decided to pick up two more, a yellow and a pink variety. No sooner did we get these established, and were about to toss out the bare stems from last year’s specimen, when it suddenly put forth an abundance of new leaves, so we now have three trumpet flower plants. But thankfully, we also have a greenhouse now to winter them within, because they don’t handle temperatures below 10°C. Seen here, the new pink one is showing last night’s blossoms, the only one to bloom so far, though the others are leafed out radically. I have to mention that they produce a lovely aroma, but only at night – as yet I have not seen anything attracted by it, though I imagine that the species that typically pollinates them isn’t around, seeing as how they’re not native to North America.

While examining them today, I remarked to The Girlfriend to keep an eye out for the treefrogs, since they sometimes could be found on the leaves or stems, and no sooner said this than I spotted someone else on the blooming one.

trumpet flower Brugmansia during day with subtle Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis
As I’ve said, I never know how subtle some of these photos are, because I took them, and I lightened this one slightly (maybe half-a-stop,) to help display the interloper. If you’re still looking, take a moment before I get to the closer shots, and I’ll occupy myself with other activities for just a moment.

.

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[Maybe I should clean that more often…]

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Found it? Good. Now I can go in closer.

closer shot of juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinesis on trumpet flower Brugmansia
Naturally, you know this is a Carolina anole (Anolis carolinensis,) and I’m still delighted to find them in various locations around Walkabout Estates. Eventually, I’ll avoid featuring their photos because I see them too frequently and don’t want to overburden the posts with them (too late, I know,) but right now we’ll largely see them when I do. This one is roughly twice the size of the last, so definitely a different specimen, though whether this is this year’s brood or last year’s, I cannot say since I have no idea how fast they grow. Doesn’t matter too much; they’re getting established, and that was the goal.

This one was well aware of our presence and slowly, carefully, creeping around to find a safe spot, wasting its time because the plant has no hidey holes and sits away from other plants, so the only choice was all the way down to the base and across a short open stretch of the yard, which it did not choose to do. I circled it, always trying to appear non-threatening, and did several frames, though it was difficult to include anything for scale. If you know anoles, this one is about half-size, and the main trunk that it’s on is maybe a little thicker than my thumb. Overall length was, I’m guessing, 80-90mm, but that includes a long whip tail, so it’s a little misleading.

juvenile Carolina anole Anolis carolinensis on trunk of trumpet flower Brugmansia
I did a few images in natural light, having to deal with the patches of over-bright direct sunlight and the shade produced by the leaves and nearby trees, not to mention the anole that paused only momentarily in its perambulations up and down the trunk, but this at least shows the length of its tail.

I might have to leave a few fruit sections around the yard in various places, which the anoles might like (I’m not sure, really,) but the ants and fruit flies certainly will, and I know the anoles will eat those. I try to keep my models happy.

Ah, finally

Al Denelsbeck

So, there’s this little staged photo that I’ve been after, oh, a couple of weeks now I think, and tonight, I finally managed to snag it. It’s the stupid things…

I have, atop my desk hutch, a small sculpture that The Girlfriend got me, I can’t even remember when, of two small green treefrogs atop a leaf, and for once, it was reasonably realistic – so many artists either have no clue what frogs actually look like, or think that a ‘stylized’ frog is more appropriate, or cover up the former with claims of the latter. I, meanwhile, prefer realism, so this particular piece was a great choice – even the leaf they sit upon looks real.

Looking up at it one day, I realized that the juvenile green treefrogs found in numerous places in the yard were close to exactly the same size as those on the sculpture, and, you know, “light bulb.” It was a simple matter of convincing one of these many frogs to sit still atop the sculpture for a few frames.

Yeah, right. Coaxing one onto the piece was hard enough, but then having them sit still (and facing more or less into the camera) long enough to get a sharp frame was, shall we say, problematic. For several attempts, I had one frame before they leapt away, when I even got them onto the sculpture in the first place, and the various ‘successful’ attempts were focused not quite sharp enough, or not quite properly framed, or not quite properly lit (since treefrogs are active only at night, all of this is taking place in various locations around the yard by the light of the headlamp, of course.)

The other night, sprawled on the ground to get my one frame before the frog effed off, I contacted… something… that I’ve encountered before only at the edge of the pond – now I know there’s another location in the yard. I’ve seen nothing but bare sandy soil, but the reaction after a brief contact is reminiscent of ant bites or stinging nettles, and can last for up to an hour. And I still didn’t snag the shot for my sacrifice.

Finally, just a few minutes ago, I got what I was after.

juvenile green treefrog Hyla cinerea perched on sculpture with identically-sized clay versions
Perhaps it’s the fact that the temperature is lower tonight, perhaps I just had a mellow specimen, but this one remained on the sculpture for the entire session, 26 frames while I experimented with angles and approaches, and even stayed put until I introduced it back onto the hosta leaves where I’d found it. It’s always refreshing to work with a professional model.

[Yes, the paint job on the fake frogs isn’t quite right, at least not for any local species, but believe it or not, I aim to correct that one evening. I’ll try to remember to show it to you.]

In fact, here’s the one frame from the itchy attempt, just not quite what I was after.

juvenile green treefrog Hyla cinerea on sculpture
Close, really, but facing away, a little dirty, and the framing is slightly tight. I knew I could do better, but the timeframe when they were small enough was only a few weeks at best. The entire piece, by the way, is just under 15cm in length – these guys are still quite small. You can also tell that I was wetting down the sculpture to make it a little more inviting for the frogs.

While I’m at it, I’ll drop a couple of other frog pics since it’s been, what, 11 posts since we’ve seen one? I think I did pretty good holding off for some variety, given that I see these little guys constantly.

juvenile green treefrog Hyla cinerea seen by underside through panel of greenhouse
While watering the plants in the greenhouse earlier today, I spotted this one, also a juvenile (maybe a little bigger than my cooperative model above,) perched on the ‘glass’ panel on the outside, in the narrow gap between the end of the greenhouse and the shed, so naturally I snagged a couple of frames. Not a bad spot to spend the day, really, sheltered completely from the sun and well away from any predators. Even if it does look a little exhibitionistic…

And another, two days previously.

juvenile green treefrog Hyla cinerea trying to hide behind the lip of a rainbarrel
As the remnants of Hurricane Ida were blowing in, the frogs knew we’d get some nice rain and were a little active during the day, peeking out here and there, and this one was atop one of the rainbarrels – yes, I really want to replace those with something more natural-looking, or at least rustic, but that’s expensive, and hard to justify for the occasional shot that I get around them. Anyway, it saw me and just tried hunkering down behind the lip, and the image was too expressive to let pass – makes you wonder who’s spying on who.

Profiles of Nature 35

Al Denelsbeck

maybe house fly Scowt captured by assassin bug
No, there have been no attempts on our life at all this past week, and we’re an easy target. Sorry you wasted your money.

This week we have Scowt (the one on the left,) whose parents maintain that it’s one of those creative spellings but really just can’t spell. Scowt realizes that, upon agreeing to become a graphic novel illustrator’s model, he probably should have looked up ‘hentai’ first – he’s totally given up on calamari, we can tell you that. His story is an interesting one: his parents were following a fishing trawler on its way to the Lesser Antilles when his egg was laid in the offal of a dolphin, but one of the acceptable ones. As a maggot, he soon rose above the others in his class and was recognized for his remarkably bloated physique, making him immensely popular and bringing him to the eye of a roving talent scout (thus) as he was working after-eating in the local sushi bar. From there, he took the body-building world by storm and won award after award in competitions across the globe, and since we’re continuing the housefly theme we’re not even going to tell you what kind of competitions; you can thank us later (tip jar over there on the sidebar.) But fame has a dark side, and Scowt soon found himself hanging with a bunch of teenage praying mantises, going door-to-door and asking if people had been saved in that smarmy way. Luckily, he found a good woman who recognized the warmth in his soul and helped him get his life back on track, walking on dead things and getting stuck in half-open windows, and so he would have no reason to be hanging around a girls’ school and making lewd propositions. Like we said, this is his story, but the jury isn’t looking too convinced and he’s liable to have to take a plea – his attorney doesn’t care because she gets paid either way. Scowt’s favorite episode of Wild Wild West is the one with the hypnotism.

Join us next week or those pics go straight to the local newspapers. Whatever those are.

Already on it

Al Denelsbeck

killdeer Charadrius vociferus skimming across water at sunrise
Someone – I can’t remember who – suggested this morning that I should work on my art. They don’t know me very well, of course, because I don’t do ‘art.’ However, I will get fartsy from time to time, and they were far too late to tell me about that, because I already had a selection of frames collected this morning. Above, a killdeer (Charadrius vociferus) skims the water’s surface at sunrise, catching a little light through the primary wing feathers.

While below, stationing myself at a preferred location as the sun was about to rise allowed me to play around with specific positioning as it appeared.

sunrise over Jordan Lake against stone stack and sapling
The stone stack was not mine – I just shamelessly used it. I will take credit for staying the hell out of the water so the surface remained smooth for the shot, though.

This, by the way, puts me one over for the ‘post for every day’ personal challenge for August, so it’s a bonus, really, and the images kinda abstracty to boot. These make it 102 pics uploaded for the month – not a record, but well above average, which is not bad for how uninviting the conditions were. I’m cool with it.

Dittyday 4: Ivan Neville

Al Denelsbeck

It’s been a while since the last installment, but then again, I never intended to be on any kind of schedule with this. Today we’re going to hear from a singer with a lot of musical background, having been in several different bands over the years (including the wonderfully named Dumpstaphunk,) but the two songs that I’m featuring here were from his solo career, peeking into the Billboard Top 40 in the late eighties (yes, the eighties, you should be used to this by now) but then fading away again, so a lot of people haven’t heard them. I’m talking about Ivan Neville, who is indeed related to the Neville Brothers and the son of Aaron Neville, possessing a soulful gravelly voice that he uses to great effect.

We’re going to do these in the reverse order that I first heard them, and start out with the more soulful one. This appeared in the soundtrack to Skin Deep, a Blake Edwards film starring John Ritter, which definitely has its moments (though I think Ritter was in better form in Noises Off, but that’s not the topic of our post today.) As might be imagined, this falls at the bridge between the second and third act and illustrates the protagonist’s self-realization. Bonnie Raitt provides the backing vocals as a lovely counterpoint to Neville’s key. One of the more curious things about this song is that it has no distinct melody, or riff or main chords or however you want to define it; no one could sit down with a guitar or keyboard and pick out the melody in any recognizable way. Maybe with a drum kit, though – it’s refreshing to hear the drums carry so much of the song without seeming to, certainly not a driving beat, but playing the part that is often up to the keyboards. Otherwise, countless instruments come in throughout to do their part but never establish dominance or a ‘lead,’ a very egalitarian song that plays nicely on the ears.

Falling Out of Love – Ivan Neville

The next one was also featured on a film soundtrack, this time in My Stepmother is an Alien, so of course, everyone knows this one. It’s easy to hear how related these both are, at least at first, and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was originally written as soulful as the first, and then someone said, “Hey, what if we punched it up a bit? It’s the eighties; we need a saxophone solo, and someone in the background hitting three different cardboard tubes.” It also makes me realize how many of the songs that I like feature a wide blend of sounds and riffs, little fills and stings, lots of cameo instruments stepping in for a handful of notes just to get their names on the credits. Yet it’s all blended extremely well; the people manning the studio mixing boards don’t get near enough credit, so pay attention to how many little bits contribute to the overall sound.

Not Just Another Girl – Ivan Neville

I’d like to say these songs introduced me to a whole undiscovered trove of his music – which they did, but nothing that I’ve found hits me the same way, just being in a style that doesn’t resonate as well. You may feel differently, and I always urge people to check it out for themselves; I don’t feature music here to showcase ‘the best,’ or particular examples of excellent musicianship, but to highlight little gems that I like, that perhaps someone else will as well. I mean, we already know about my tastes in photography, so this is to show that my tastes in music aren’t as warped/are just as warped/are even more warped (circle one.)

Nakhvamdis, August!

Al Denelsbeck

For reasons yet to be determined, there are no more numbers on my wall calendar past today, starting over at 1, so this has to mean it’s time for the end of the month abstract. Only thing is, I didn’t really take any abstract images this month, or at least if I did, I already posted them, so what we have here is kind of a cheat, but I figure if I’m gonna fudge it, I’ll do it twice.

closeup detail of eastern tiger swallowtail Papilio glaucus forewing
Is it obvious what this is? It is to me, but I took it and cropped it ridiculously tight to eliminate context, so I may be biased. How about another crop from the exact same frame?

closeup detail of eastern tiger swallowtail Papilio glaucus hindwing
Chances are, even if you didn’t tumble to the first, you know it by the second as a butterfly’s wing, specifically an eastern tiger swallowtail (Papilio glaucus) in yellow phase. Actually, the original frame was the entire butterfly (well, the dorsal view anyway, because they still haven’t created cubist digital cameras,) shot freehand in the botanical garden, and I just cropped in for the detail in the wings – forewing at top, hindwing following (and why isn’t it simply called the followwing?) A wild specimen that wasn’t restrained in any way except by its love of nectar, so revel in the remarkable sharpness and clarity from a true professional photographer.

Ah, what the hell – one more.

blurred carpenter bee leaving hosta flower
I have to include this one lest my ego get too unwieldy, though admittedly it was shot in July. I was up on the deck landing at the top of the stairs trying for some deer photos (which reminds me that I have to dig those out,) and spotted a bumblebee on the hosta flowers below, so I fired off a couple of frames with the 150-600mm lens, again handheld – obviously they did not come out ideal, but I kinda liked this one because of the faintly impressionist quality, and I boosted the saturation a little, because cheating is addictive I suppose. Plus it boosts the uploaded image count for the month. Whatever – say goodbye to August, and we’ll see what September brings.

About time we corrected this

Al Denelsbeck

I find it hard to believe, with the overriding push to have more appropriate and accurate terminology anymore, that this term not only still remains, but it’s being ignored wholesale despite its inherent bias, so I’m taking to this (admittedly infinitesimal) soapbox to start the ball rolling. Because it’s high time we eradicated the term “light year” in favor of a more appropriate term.

It’s simple: “light year” is a unit of distance defined as how far light travels in a year, roughly equivalent to 9.46 trillion kilometers. Since we all know the speed of light is 300,000 kilometers per second, a little mental math tells us this is an Earth year, and not Martian, Jovian, or really, anything else in the solar system – it relies on a perspective from just one out of eight (or eighteen) planets, and far from the largest or most important one at that. It doesn’t even specify which year, so we don’t know if it’s a leap year or not. It also fails to take into account when the measurement is or was supposed to be made, since the length of Terran years constantly changes due to orbital mechanics.

It’s been bad enough that we even refer to ‘the’ solar system, like there’s only one, and ‘the’ sun. How utterly confusing is this, and how long would it take to communicate such terms to species from other planets and systems? It’s like some exclusive club where we only talk in code, making sly references to things that only Earthlings would understand. It’s unnecessarily anthrocentric, egotistical, and divisive. It even discriminates against species that don’t detect light as a primary sense.

And then, of course, there’s the astronomical unit (AU,) defined as the distance between the Earth and the Sun, just as bad. Not to mention that this distance changes as the Earth revolves. Sheesh.

I propose a measurement based on a universal constant, the radius of a helium atom, which is 28×10-12 meters. A light year is considered 9.46×1012 kilometers, or 9.46×1015 meters. So to create a new measurement within the same rough scale, a yottaHe (YHe) would be 1024 times the diameter of a helium atom, which would translate to…

Oh, wait. We already have parsec, which is a trigonometric function of a circle and parallax. Never mind.

August collection

Al Denelsbeck

No, not the month of August, but the adjective ‘august,’ meaning reputable, refined, and noteworthy.

Okay, yeah, it’s the month. And I looked it up just for giggles, and the none of those are synonyms for august anyway, which list, ‘dignified,’ ‘distinguished,’ and, ‘imposing.’ So much for my high-school English classes…

Regardless, there’s little theme here, just recent photos. As a follow-up to the previous horrofascinating post, I went out that night with the headlamp, doing the rounds as it were, and spotted something on the sweet potato vines along the front garden.

remains of annual cicada Neotibicen
That’s the remains of an annual cicada, and three meters or so from the driveway, so very likely to be the last vestiges of the mantis meal. Huh! In my day, we ate every bit of the cicada! But prompted by this, I began a close examination of the front garden, even though I’d looked it over when I returned about an hour after shooting those video clips, and this time located my quarry, a meter from the carcass, sitting on the oak-leaf hydrangea.

Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis matching appearance of video subject
Right size, right coloration, immediate vicinity, even near the remains, so I’m 95% sure this is the same one. Not quite as swollen as I expected, but perhaps there had been some significant bowel movements in the meantime. Be sure to recommend Walkabout to all your friends.

A few days previously, after a heavy rain, I’d found another sizable adult specimen in the backyard, this one all tan in color – I still don’t know how their color change takes place, but given what I’ve observed in the past couple of years, I think it can only change during a molt. This one gave several nice poses, not at all concerned with my presence and actively hunting. But I call this one, “Reagan” – see if you can determine why.

Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis from underside
I would like to claim that I am monitoring the many mantids in the yard for either mating or egg-laying activity, but that would imply something more that spot-checking, mostly at night, because it’s still ridiculously hot during the day. Granted, if I had someone willing to pay for such photos, I’d be out there constantly (well, depending on how much they were willing to pay,) but given how this is little more than a hobby, I’m retaining more of my body moisture within. Yeah, I know, I’m such a poseur…

possibly white-banded crab spider Misumenoides formosipes on underside of butterfly bush leaf
On the butterfly bush one night, I found a decent sized crab spider ambling around, waiting for another blossom cluster to come into bloom (the drought had slowed down a lot of plants in the yard.) From what I can tell, this is most likely genus Misumenoides, possibly a Misumenoides formosipes, or white-banded crab spider – this is determined partially from the coloration, but mostly from the positions of those eyes. Believe me, pinning this stuff down can be tedious – I have 13 tabs dedicated to spiders open in my browser right at the moment.

Then a day or two later as I stood by the main Japanese maple in the yard, I spotted a curious movement, what almost appeared to be a crab spider flying to one of the leaves. I leaned in for a closer peek, then trotted in to get the camera. Thankfully, it was still in the area when I got back, having moved further on but betraying itself through its telltale movements (and obvious color contrast.)

possibly mud-nesting spider wasp Auploplus carrying paralyzed crab spider
This was a very small wasp, no bigger than a house fly, but carrying a paralyzed crab spider. I’m familiar with wasps that use spiders to lay their eggs within, sealing up the paralyzed spider in mud cases for the young to hatch out and consume, but had never seen one this small. Near as I can tell, this is an Auploplus, but the few frames that I managed didn’t provide enough detail for much else. Effectively pinning down a species accurately can often require minute examination of specific body points, requiring a captive (dead) specimen, so not going to happen from photos obtained in situ. I do what I can to identify what I shoot, but rarely get a full range of body positions, and I usually don’t collect specimens just to identify them.

But this made me wonder if the wasp had snagged my crab spider subject from earlier, so I checked later on in the evening. Nope – still there, this time happily ensconced in a new blossom cluster

possibly white-banded crab spider Misumenoides formosipes within blossoms of butterfly bush Buddleia davidii
But you want to know what’s really bad? I didn’t see the other spider in this frame until reviewing the draft of this post just now. Granted, it’s not 3mm in overall width, but you’d think while doing the cropping and resizing…

Same species? That white band across the face lends some weight to the idea, but that’s far from definitive for crab spiders, and the size disparity would seem to indicate two separate broods, with far too little detail to tell anything else, so no, I’m not committing to anything, but I can keep going and see if I can get this sentence to run on ever longer…

Another image just for the sake of it.

unidentified 'inchworm' larva dangling from silk line
I’ve spent enough time on BugGuide.net right now, so I’m not even going to try to identify this, knowing it would be far too time-consuming given how many species have ‘inchworm’ type larva. Perhaps 20mm long, I found it one night dangling from a tree and shot a few frames, liking how the detail came out. That’s the head at the top; inchworms extrude their silk from their mouths, to allow them to make cocoons. I still kind of expect them to be head-down like a spider. You can just make out three eyes in the pale patch on the side of the head, close to the jaws.

And finally, the most recent one.

swollen female green lynx spider Peucetia viridans not long from making egg case
I did a brief trip to the North Carolina Botanical Gardens, uh, yesterday now, and snagged just a few photos – far too many have to be discarded, because I was shooting wide open with the Mamiya macro, no flash, and the depth was so short that I had a hard time nailing focus. Not my best day. This green lynx spider (Peucetia viridans) is a female and not far from producing an egg sac, judging from that swollen abdomen though I know you’re not supposed to do that, or at least vocalize it. In the old place, we had several broods develop, but we don’t have inviting enough flowers around Walkabout Estates now: taller, able to attract the big pollinators, and able to support their egg sacs which can get bigger than 30mm across. So right now, I typically only see them at the Botanical Gardens or Mason Farm Biological Reserve. I could add some enticing flowers, but considering how difficult it’s been to get some of the new plants established, I’ll probably just find the lynx spiders where they are now.

28 for 28 – three more days/posts (at least) to go…

Did you eat already?

Al Denelsbeck

This afternoon while talking to The Girlfriend in the garage, I heard the strident ratcheting sound of a captured cicada, very close by – like within a few meters. I went out into the driveway and immediately found the source, since they had cooperatively performed this drama right in the driveway, good light and everything. Not just an opportunity for photos, but video as well. Which tells you more than you ever wanted to know about me.

One of the resident Chinese mantises (Tenodera sinensis) had captured an annual cicada (genus Neotibicen, possibly Neotibicen canicularis,) and said cicada was protesting loudly. This was not in any way deterring the mantis which, as they do, started right in on the meal. You have been warned.


The Girlfriend was nearby but not watching as I captured the video, so she didn’t see the details until I finished the editing, but her review of the footage consisted largely of, “That’s gross.” Repeatedly.

I mention the background noise in there, since I didn’t have time to get the proper video mic but I doubt it would have improved matters in any way – that’s what you get in a suburban neighborhood in early afternoon: chainsaws and crows. It’s been worse, and I didn’t include the clip where a helicopter passed overhead.

I went out sometime later and found no traces of either, even though I’d witnessed a wing get discarded, so whether this was later consumed or blew away I can’t say. I wanted to see how much the mantis’ girth had increased.

It’s possible that this is the same mantis as number three here, since the size, markings, and coloration are all the same, and this occurred about six to eight meters away from last sighting, but with mantises, who knows? Still haven’t found a way to differentiate them.

I can’t neglect one of the still frames I took in between clips.

Chinese mantis Tenodera sinensis with head buried within body cavity of still-living annual cicada Neotibicen
I couldn’t resist this one, nor could I resist calling it, “Look, I’m a cicada!” Hey, this is how nature works (though, granted, I don’t really have to make it worse I guess.)

But yeah, productive day, anyway. And I still have images from previous days to get together.

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