Recently in moths and caterpillars Category

Ohhhhhh, I'm a zombie. Two days of hard physical labor, and one mortared limestone-block retaining wall later, my friend Richard and I hobbled to our respective homes, sore and broken. We built the wall, along with my husband's help on Sunday, in preparation for the pending arrival of a 5,000-gallon rain tank at my son's school. We also built and mortared two benches for the school's butterfly-hummingbird garden. The results are wonderful, but we're paying the price physically.

Today is the first day I've been able to think and move again. It seems like ages since I visited my own garden, camera in hand. But this morning I ventured out, and I was pleased to see a friendly face.

This little dragonfly smiled at me while it rested on the spent blooms of a Mexican sage. I can't tell you what kind of dragonfly it is, other than a very sweet little flyer that warmed my heart as it warmed its wings.

Thanks for the smile, little dragonfly. I sure needed it!

Elsewhere in the garden, the frogs were busy doing happy frog things in the pond, and though I'm seeing fewer butterflies as fall progress, I was still happy to see fluttering skippers, fritillaries, Queens, and Monarchs this morning. I even found a large Giant Swallowtail caterpillar on my hop tree, about to go to chrysalis stage.

And this little guy -- one of many all over my garden, the school garden, and Austin gardens everywhere -- munched away on an Esperanza.

This one is likely a Salt Marsh caterpillar, a type of Arctiid and as such commonly referred to as a Woolly Bear. I remember as a child seeing some of these caterpillars by the hundreds when I lived in Corpus Christi, and I remember as well that we kids looked out for one another, teaching our friends that you shouldn't ever touch fuzzy caterpillars. In this particular caterpillar, the hairs have been known to irritate skin, even causing a rash.

I don't see a smile on this caterpillar's face, but it still gave me a warm and fuzzy greeting, all the same.  :)

Nice to be back in the garden!  :)

First a tarantula, and now a Black Witch Moth (also called a Bat Moth). It's not even October yet -- way too early for Halloween!

This large noctuid beauty earned one of its names simply from its shape and size -- the wing span is at least 5 inches across. I imagine at night it would be quite easy to mistake such a flying creature as a bat. The lovely irridescent "comma" is one of its strongest ID markers. From the pale stripes going through the center of the wings, this particular moth can also be identified as a female.

The Black Witch Moth, Ascalapha odorata,  has quite a bit of folklore about it... some consider its presence to be a curse-- that the moth is a harbinger of death-- particularly if it enters your house. Other people believe that if the moth flies over you, you will lose your hair. Fortunately, neither are the case here -- phew! Yet another belief is that the moth is the embodiment of a lost soul, and still one more is that the moth is actually an indicator of good luck -- as in winning the lottery. Well, I suppose I should have entered the lottery on the day I saw this lovely girl -- I guess I blew it.

Edit: Apparently the pupa of the Black Witch Moth was what killer Buffalo Bill put in his victims' mouths in the novel "Silence of the Lambs" (the movie used a different species). Whoa. 

Our moth girl was missing a leg and seemed rather frail. It was clear that she wasn't going to live much longer, so I can only hope that she enjoyed a full life. I'm glad I got to meet her.

Thinking about the full metamorphic life cycle of moths and butterflies -- here's the larval stage of another kind of moth. The dark horn is going to remind tomato growers of a moth they aren't particularly fond of, but this hornworm is actually the caterpillar stage of the Snowberry Clearwing Hummingbird Moth, on Coral Honeysuckle. As with other hornworms, these caterpillars are very well camouflaged on the green leaves they feast upon.

Ever have those moments you so very much wish you had your camera with you? If you are lucky, you might at least have your camera phone with you. And if you are really lucky, the picture you take might actually turn out okay. And then, if you are really, really lucky, the picture might even turn out pretty cool.

The power of window reflection -- that's our schoolyard habitat in the background.

This moth delighted kids and parents alike as it rested for hours on a school window. It appears to be an Imperial Moth, Eacles imperialis, but I prefer to call it Mothra. Now we just need Godzilla!

I want to send out a thanks to my friend Richard for taking the time to identify the moth -- it sure is one worth knowing.

We've got a busy habitat year ahead of us at the school already. My poor garden at home is already getting neglected... again!

So all those zillions of Bordered Patch caterpillars of mine suddenly up and disappeared. Gone, gone, gone. Just a total mystery.

I searched and searched for either caterpillar or chrysalis. After some time, I finally found this lone caterpillar on one of my pitiful remaining sunflowers, one pretty much decimated by all the other the now-absent munchers. I'm rooting for this little caterpillar to make it all the way through.

  I did find some chrysalises around, but they seemed too tiny to be the Bordered Patch caterpillars. I have no idea how far these guys roam to find their perfect chrysalis spot, but I'm hoping that's what happened. Otherwise, I'm casting a suspicious eye at the mockingbirds. But could they have eaten that many, leaving not a trace? Perhaps the heavy rain a couple of days ago had something to do with the caterpillars' disappearance? Who knows. I will just be hopeful that they are resting in a nice safe spot, doing their magic to become butterflies.

Besides our lone ranger, there's another "one." A beautiful yellow sunflower blooms off its rather raggedy stem and leaves. It sure toughed it out after all those caterpillars tried to steal its greenery.

I found a Gulf Fritillary, brand new and still drying its wings, under a few Passionflower leaves. It's the first Fritillary I've gotten to see emerge. Passionvines are so rewarding.

This flower looks like it's sticking its tongue out at someone. But that's no tongue on that Mexican sage... it's a Southern Crimson Moth.

This next photo makes it look much darker than it really is -- the moth is actually a very dainty pink. And dainty in size, too!

I guess time will solve the mystery of the Bordered Patch caterpillars for me. If they survived, I'm sure I'll see them soon, fluttering about the garden.

Two new visitors to the garden drank up nectar together, and a mad dash for the camera was the human reaction... because these visitors were SO COOL.

First a large black swallowtail, but NOT an actual Black Swallowtail -- this is the black morph of the female Eastern Tiger Swallowtail, the first I'd ever seen.

If you look closely at the forewings, you can see a shadow of the stripes that are so familiar in the yellow morph of the Eastern Tiger.

Her proboscis kept reminding me of Gonzo the Great, one of my favorite Muppets.

A close-up reveals that the blue color is a sprinkling of little dots.

Zoooooom. What was that yellow and black creature zipping by? Not a bumblebee, no no. And nope, not a hummgbird. And most definitely not a butterfly. It was a Snowberry Clearwing Moth, a hummingbird moth. So beautiful and fun to watch. Just strangely named, given that it exists here in central Texas, where snow is not the norm. Apparently it was named because it likes snowberries. Go figure.

And while it can hover and zoom like a hummingbird, it does behave a little differently and rests its front legs on a bloom while drinking nectar. Its wings never seem to stop -- their clear centers make them very hard to see sometimes.

See its rolled-up proboscis in the photo below? I didn't notice it until I looked at the photos, that's how fast the big moth zipped about. The moth extends it out super fast to suck up the nectar, then rolls it right back up again for easy travel. 

The Snowberry Clearwing's caterpillar form is a hornworm, related to those infamous tomato plant munchers, but these caterpillars prefer honeysuckle (including, of course, snowberries), viburnum, cherry, and plum. Works for me.

And for them, apparently.