Where have you been hiding?

It's been several years since I glimpsed Blue-flag Iris in the low-lying basins along the Sycamore Greenway. Their fondness for moist areas means they hang out down where the stormwater lingers, a good distance from the trail, and thickets of willows, dogwoods, and other shrubby growth eventually either crowded them out or hid them from view.

But what's this?! Near the Sycamore Apartments, where a willow thicket had been cleared with the REAP work over the winter, there's a little stand of these pretty irises, their trios of petals and sepals in full bloom as May shifts into June. Have they been here this whole time, hidden by overgrown brush (or just as likely, I was never looking in the right place at the right time to catch their distant purple flowers)? 

The REAP work included overseeding with native seed mix, but most sources indicate that it can take a couple of years for Iris virginica to flower from seed--so it seems likely these have been residents prior to that.

Closer examination of one of the flowers revealed one, then two tiny, long-snooted weevils trundling about. iNaturalist suggests they are an Iris Weevil (Mononychus vulpeculus) which certainly tracks with their location. These weevils feed on the seeds of iris but may also be found on daisies and fleabanes. 

Keep your eyes peeled when you're out on the trail! After the winter ecological restoration work opened up new vistas, who knows what old (or new) flowers--and their insect friends--we might spot?

Adapting to relentless succession

As the relentless march of human development proceeds apace, habitat is churned up first for agricultural monocrops, then--similar to ecological succession?--the ag fields are replaced by housing developments or the infrastructure to support them, like a shiny new electrical substation. 

The wildlife that lived in the original habitat must adapt, move, or die as the world changes quickly around them. 

If you're a big bird that likes to roost in tall trees with a wide view of the surrounding landscape, you might be tempted to settle for some tall metal stumps. On a recent morning, a Turkey Vulture alit on one of the tall towers, assuming a spread-winged posture in the early sun. That six-foot wingspread can help the bird cool off or warm up, depending on place and time, or help dry off their wet feathers. 

Soon the individual was joined by a second vulture, and then a third.  They relaxed for some minutes on two of the pillars, and then were gone.

These tempting tree-replacements, whether vultures at a substation or squirrels on roadside powerlines, are not without hazards. Birds with large wingspans can easily touch live wires or other equipment, resulting in electrocution (and power outages). Smaller birds and mammals may nest in equipment or chew wires, with similarly ill effects for both the animal and the grid.  

The juxtaposition of these ancient birds with our technology, showing how animals are forced to adapt to a world they didn't evolve to inhabit, is both hopeful and haunting.

If only every day could be a Day of Insects....

 This past Saturday was the 18th annual Day of Insects at Reiman Gardens in Ames, an event where dozens of insect enthusiasts gather to appreciate these amazing arthropods and hear from both experts and amateurs about what they've been working. It's a magnificent way to leave winter behind and anticipate a bug-filled spring and summer!

This year's sessions included such varied topics as butterfly diversity in Manu, Peru; veterinary medicine for tarantulas; insectariums and conservation; and Iowa's decapods. Decapods? Decapods! Not insects but crustaceans, decapods include lobsters, crabs, and crayfish (it is the latter which are found in Iowa, with eight species...as well as a shrimp!). 

Another session on fireflies noted a species called Photuris asacoa, documented only in a single northeast Iowa location. Its common name is Leopold's firefly, after Aldo Leopold, and the species name asacoa is derived from Leopold's magnum opus A Sand County Almanac. 

It's a tantalizing smorgasbord for those who love, or simply appreciate, our six(+)-legged neighbors, presented by folks whose enthusiasm for their subject is a refreshing reminder of what a little curiosity and wonder about the world can spark.

Visitors to Reiman Gardens can also visit the Christina Reiman Butterfly Wing, stocked with hundreds of colorful live butterflies; watch butterflies emerge from pupae, and observe critters on display like this fantastic Giant Leaf Insect:

or this guy:

Though it's wondrous seeing fantastic and exotic insects from far-off places and warmer climes, it has made me all the more impatient for our local six-legged friends to emerge from their wherever they overwintered, be it as eggs underground, pupae in leaf litter, or adults returning from Mexico. Soon! Seeing a fancy captive butterfly from distant lands is neat, but can't compare to the excitement of finding an American Snout perched on my bicycle after a visit to the Greenway. 

Added bonus: there's a podcast too! The Six-Legged Narrative. It's short, and packed with news about insects. Best of all? It's six days a week! Be sure to tune in:

And another amazing resource, peopled with many of the same presenters and attendees found at Day of Insects, is the Iowa Native Plant and Insect discussion group. You can ask questions, or just read the submissions from others and learn a lot about the natural goings-on in our state.