Gobble, gobble...

...makes you think of the birds that will soon grace many tables on Thanksgiving Day, right? Sounds logical, but I'm not talking about those birds at all. I'm referring to the "greedy" Blue Jays in my backyard gobbling up sunflower seeds and peanuts like they are going out of style...

One of our backyard Blue Jays on the coconut feeder outside our kitchen window. He's not greedy. He's filling the gular pouch in his throat with sunflower seeds to hide in one of his many winter food caches. 

How can one bird eat that many seeds?
It can't! When you see Blue Jays downing one seed after another, watch closely, and you'll see they aren't eating the seeds at all, they are storing them in a pouch in their throats called a gular pouch. Blue Jays have a built-in carrying case called a gular pouch under their tongues. This expandable pouch extends down into their throats as far as the upper esophagus. In late summer and all through the fall Blue Jays and other birds, such as chickadees, nuthatches, and Tufted Titmice, start hoarding acorns and other seeds and nuts in winter caches. By storing their food, they can survive long, cold winters when their normal food sources freeze over or run out.

Click here for an older post with photos of a Blue Jay filling his gular pouch with peanuts, and learn how Blue Jays with their acorn caching ways repopulated areas with oak trees after the last glaciers retreated.

Click here for an earlier post on scatter-hoarding and winter food-caching birds in our area.

Gobble, gobble...it's fun to watch Blue Jays gobbling up sunflower seeds. They waste no time filling their gular pouches, then fly off to a winter cache, deposit them, and come back for more.

Blue Jays behaving badly (or is it just fall migration?)...
While most of the red, yellow and gold leaves of autumn have fallen from the trees and faded away, it's still fall, and Blue Jays are still out there doing their autumn antics. My mom called a few weeks ago reporting 17 Blue Jays were in her backyard behaving badly. They were impersonating hawks, stealing seed, frightening the titmice, and taking over every feeder in their yard...but, she loved it! It's very exciting to have a marauding band of migrating Blue Jays in your yard, especially when you live in the city! She wanted to know what was going on, so I let her know in autumn, some northern Blue Jays take to the wing and migrate south, while others stay put. When they migrate, they form large groups of what really do look like marauding bands, and when a flock lands in your backyard, watch out. They will raid all of your feeders and plunder till nothing remains. Then they will be gone in a flash, not to return.

Click here for a pdf of a paper by Paul A. Stewart in North American Bird Bander, July-Sep. 1982, titled, "Migration of Blue Jays in Eastern North America," pgs 107 - 112. Stewart analyzes banding and recovery records to identify the birds' migratory movements, showing Blue Jays are partly migratory because some groups stay throughout the year, and of those that do migrate, not all return to their same nesting grounds. Stewart includes maps that show the locations of direct recoveries of banded migratory birds.

This fellow is not part of a marauding band. He's just a regular at the Coconut Cafe outside our kitchen window. 

...put the blue in the coconut and shake it all up. 

Gobble up those sunflower seeds Ol' Blue and secret them off to your winter food cache. Your scatter-hoarding will get you through the winter, plus it's great for seed dispersal!

Lincoln's Sparrow in Hocking Hills...

Rick, Matty and I, my brother, sis-in-law and my niece, and my parents all went to Hocking Hills in southeast Ohio last weekend. It was another of our fall trips. We started the tradition back when the kids were tiny little things, and we've kept it up through the years. Now the kids are juniors in college, and the tradition continues. This year we settled on Hocking Hills (an easy 2.5 hr drive) and rented an 8-bedroom "cabin" about 30 minutes away from the action of Old Man's Cave, Rock House, horseback riding, etc. I'm glad we did, because the cabin came with 30 or 40 acres to explore. It had a pond edged in cattails, scrubby fields, wet thickets, brush piles, a small stream in a small gorge, and even a few boggy areas, all of which add up to perfect territory for migrating Lincoln's Sparrows...

A beautiful fall Lincoln's Sparrow perches in a Sycamore sapling along the cattail edges of the pond.

We didn't know what the cabin would look like or what type of land would be around it, so I was really excited when we drove up the long, crunchy gravel drive and saw what was there. Basically, nothing. We were isolated from other people and cabins, which was wonderful! It was so nice to look out and see only trees and fields (my brother booked the cabin and did a great job!). In the back of my mind, I knew Lincoln's Sparrows were at the height of their fall migration through our state, and I was hoping to photograph one. Lincoln's Sparrows are shy birds, so they don't hang out where there is a lot of human activity, which made our lonely little cabin in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains a perfect location. The dashing little bird had always eluded my camera lens, so if ever I was going to be able to photograph one, this would be it.

Mr. Lincoln, you are a grand bird. The fine streaking and buff coloring sets this bird apart from other sparrows...especially song sparrows, which were all around me in the field.

I can't remember who asked...it might have been my mom, but someone wanted to know if the bird was named after President Lincoln. I didn't know, so I looked it up. It wasn't. It was named after Thomas Lincoln (1812 - 1883).  At the time, Thomas Lincoln was 21. He and 4 other young men, including Audubon's son, accompanied Audubon on the 1833 Labrador Expedition. Lincoln shot the bird for Audubon to paint for his The Birds of America book. Audubon named the bird after him, at first calling it "Tom's Finch."

Look at that jaunty little cap on his head trimmed with two chestnut stripes (lateral crown stripes), each streaked with black. That's one of the first things I look at when identifying a Lincoln's Sparrow. The black streaking on the head, and the fine dark brown and black streaks on the buff-colored chest and flanks.

A Lincoln's Sparrow in the morning light. 

Audubon's 1833 Labrador Expedition
On June 6, 1833, Audubon, his youngest son, John Woodhouse Audubon, Thomas Lincoln, William Ingalls, George Shattuck, and Joseph Coolidge (sometimes spelled Collide) set out from Eastport, Maine on the schooner "Ripley" commanded by Captain Emery. The trip was a collecting expedition with an emphasis on northern waterbirds for The Birds of America. They returned to Eastport on August 31, 1833. Click here for a map and timeline that shows the routes they took to and from Labrador. This map appears in the article, "Parts Unknown: Audubon's 1833 Labrador Expedition on the Ripley," and is on the Audubon website in "Audubon's Aviary, The Final Flight." The article contains a lot of other interesting historical information, e.g., in a letter Audubon wrote to his son Victor Gifford, we learn:

"I have chartered a schooner called the ‘Ripley,’ commanded by Captain Emery. . . . only a year old, of 106 tons, for which we pay three hundred and fifty dollars per month for the entire use of the vessel with the men. . . .”

While preparing for this expedition, Audubon suffered a stroke in March of 1833. He recovered quickly and continued with the preparations for the trip. For a personal account of the 1833 Labrador Expedition, click here for the pdf of an article from The Auk, Vol. 27, No. 1 (Jan., 1910), pp. 42-52, titled, "Audubon's Labrador Trip of 1833," by Ruthven Deane. In 1903 Deane interviewed Dr. William Ingalls, who was in his 90s and the last surviving member of the party. The article contains a letter written by Ingalls to Deane describing their trip.

Audubon's description of the Lincoln's Sparrow in Labrador
If you go to the Audubon website, you have access to all of the birds and the text from Audubon's great work of art, The Birds of America. Click here for the link. Lincoln's Sparrow is Plate 193, and the text that accompanies it is from the 1833 Labrador Expedition. I always love reading the original text. Here are a few of my favorite experts (click here for the entire text):

"We had been in Labrador nearly three weeks before this Finch was discovered. One morning while the sun was doing his best to enliven the gloomy aspect of the country, I chanced to enter one of those singular small valleys here and there to be seen. The beautiful verdure of the vegetation, the numerous flowers that grew sprinkled over the ground, the half-smothered pipings of some frogs, and the multitudes of mosquitoes and flies of various sorts, seemed to belong to a region very different from any that I had previously explored. But if the view of this favoured spot was pleasing to my eye, how much more to my ear were the sweet notes of this bird as they came thrilling on the sense, surpassing in vigour those of any American Finch with which I am acquainted, and forming a song which seemed a compound of those of the Canary and Wood-lark of Europe. I immediately shouted to my companions, who were not far distant. They came, and we all followed the songster as it flitted from one bush to another to evade our pursuit. No sooner would it alight than it renewed its song; but we found more wildness in this species than in any other inhabiting the same country, and it was with difficulty that we at last procured it. Chance placed my young companion, THOMAS LINCOLN, in a situation where he saw it alight within shot, and with his usual unerring aim, he cut short its career. On seizing it, I found it to be a species which I had not previously seen; and, supposing it to be new, I named it Tom's Finch, in honour of our friend LINCOLN, who was a great favourite among us. Three cheers were given him, when, proud of the prize, I returned to the vessel to draw it, while my son and his companions continued to search for other specimens." 

"The habits of this sweet songster resemble those of the Song Sparrow. Like it, mounted on the topmost twig of the tallest shrub or tree it can find, it chants for hours; or, diving into the thickets, it hops from branch to branch, until it reaches the ground, in search of those insects and berries from which it derives its support. It moves swiftly off when it discovers an enemy; and, if forced to take wing, flies low and rapidly to some considerable distance, jerking its tail as it proceeds, and throwing itself at the foot of the thickest bush it meets. I found it mostly near streams, and always in the small valleys, guarded from the cold winds so prevalent in the country, and which now and then nip the vegetation, and destroy many of the more delicate birds."

Our fall trips
This was a wonderful fall trip. The weather was perfect, the leaves were starting to change, and the birds were fantastic. From horseback riding, to hiking, to looking up at the Milky Way while listening to coyotes, I loved every minute with my family and want to go back...soon! There is a lot to see in Hocking Hills, and a day and a half is not enough time. Click here for highlights from a few of our earlier trips.

Red Admiral along the Little Miami River...

...what a beauty, and what a fast and elusive flyer too! A few weeks ago, Rick and I watched this fellow zipping all around us showing off his agility and quick moves. He'd fly in close enough to get our hopes up, and then he'd fly out again, until finally, he flew in and lit on a stem within camera range. What a twisty little thing he was. You would think he was a professional flyer or something...

A Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta) at rest (finally). Even with his wings closed, he is a beauty when viewed up close.

Seasonal migration
Red Admirals are fleet of wing, and like Monarchs, they undergo seasonal migrations. They can't survive cold winters, so they don't overwinter in our area. Some of the butterflies from the fall generation migrate south to winter in the Carolinas, Georgia, Florida, and other southern states. North America is then recolonized each spring by butterflies coming up from the south. Click here for a 2012 post about a Red Admiral at a sap flow on our dying Ash Tree. It explains more about their migration patterns and also irruption years.

With wings open, the orange and black make Red Admirals a perfect Halloween butterfly. 
Too bad they usually take off for southern climes before October 31.

Brush-footed Butterflies
If you study the first photo, it looks like the butterfly has only four legs (two on each side), but insects have six legs, so what's up? Brush-footed Butterflies (family Nymphalidae) have six legs, but the first two are so small, you don't notice them. The butterflies don't walk on these very short forelegs, and some species don't even have feet on them, they just have little brushes or hairs, which accounts for the common name, "Brush-footed Butterflies." Because you only see four legs, this family has another nickname, called "Four-footed Butterflies." To learn more about them, click here or here. You can also click here, for an earlier post on a Mourning Cloak butterfly, which is another Brush-footed Butterfly.

A ping pong ball with wings...

...describes our chubby little migration-ready Ruby-throated Hummingbird! Rick and I were sitting on the deck yesterday evening eating our dinner when I looked up into a tree about 30 feet away and noticed what looked like a ping pong ball with wings resting among the leaves. I looked again and pointed him out to Rick. It was a fat little hummer ready for his big flight south...

This little hummingbird had been working hard to "enrich" his fat cells for his mighty trip south!
Hummingbirds need to double their weight to make the arduous trip safely. 

Our "house-hummers" flew the coop on Thursday, September 17 (it was a sad day). Hummingbirds migrate during the day, and ours must have taken off late in the morning, because we didn't see any the rest of the day, Friday or Saturday, but by Sunday afternoon, a new visitor had moved in (jubilation). He was a small and skittish juvenile Ruby-throated Hummingbird from the north, dropping in to fuel up for the next leg of his journey. We were used to our house-hummers who didn't mind our comings and goings and would hover inches from my face and hands as I changed the nectar in the feeders, but with our new visitor, if I even blinked, he would fly away. I texted my friend, Cheri, who lives a few houses up, and told her to watch her feeder. Maybe he was on his way to her. Within minutes, Cheri texted back that he was there! Then she would "blink," and he would take off in a huff for our house. Cheri and I texted back and forth that day while he ping-ponged between our feeders (and the huge trumpet honeysuckle vine that grows near our feeders). It was fun being able to predict his arrival. The next day, two more hummers dropped in, then another, then another. We appear to be a refueling and weight-gaining station for hummingbirds from the north as they wing their way south. I will keep my feeders stocked for a while, hoping to wring out the season as along as I can. The chatter of hummingbird-speak makes me happy, and getting to watch (and help out) hummingbirds migrating south is fun.

...yes, you're such a sweet little ping pong ball with wings!

If it were cold and he was fluffing up to stay warm, this fellow would look normal, but it was warm, and he was not fluffing up at all. He had gained the weight he needed to help him on his way south. I will watch for him today, but I bet he took off with the sun this morning. 

Hummingbird migration...
I've had three or four friends in the past couple of weeks as me how long they should keep their hummingbird feeders up. They don't want to impede their hummers' departure during fall migration. I always tell them, don't worry, a stocked feeder will not entice a hummingbird to stay longer than it should, but it might help a northern hummer on its flight south. Hummingbirds get itchy and jumpy when its time for them to migrate. They have an inner urge that drives them to leave triggered by the "intensity of daylight." As the days get shorter, hormones are released to increase their appetites so they can gain enough weight for their incredible journey south (from Mexico to Central America, as far south as Panama).

Hummers do not migrate in a flock, but they do fly out on favorable winds, so if there are many on the move, you might see several in a day. They usually fly during the day and sleep at night, except when they cross over the Gulf of Mexico. Hummingbirds fly low over the water, and it can take them 18-22 hours to cross. They can't sleep during this dangerous part of their journey and must have adequate fat reserves to fuel them across. Every time I think of these tiny little power houses winging low over the water my heart melts. Hummers are mighty birds! When hummers stop to rest along their journey, they may stay as short as one day, or as long as two weeks. I didn't know this, but I recently read when hummingbirds migrate, they fly low to the ground, just over treetops, so they can easily find nectar sources.

References
Click here for hummingbird migration details on the "World of Hummingbirds" website.
Click here for hummingbird FAQs on the "Hummingbird Journey North" website.
Click here for hummingbird migration basics on the "Hummingbirds.net" website.
A nice reference book is "Hummingbirds and Butterflies," by Bill Thompson III and Connie Toops.

Spotted Jewelweed sparkles along the Little Miami River...

Bright splatters of orange along the riverbank in August can mean only one thing, Spotted Jewelweed (Impatiens capensis) is in bloom! Matty and I saw these orange gems last weekend along the Little Miami River at Spring Valley Wildlife Area. The temps were warm, the humidity was high, and the cicadas were singing...all indicative of late summer and the slow march to autumn...

A Spotted Jewelweed flower dangles from a translucent green stem. This beautiful flower is a powerhouse of fuel for the Ruby-throated Hummingbird during fall migration. 

A hummingbird's horn of plenty...
Spotted Jewelweed's conical horn-shaped flower with its tubular nectar spur was made for hummingbirds, literally. The flower coevolved with hummingbirds and is the main nectar source for the tiny bird on its return flight south in late summer and early fall (jewelweed blooms well into October). In return, the hummingbird is the flower's main pollinator. The downward angle of the nectar spur forces the hummingbird to go deeper into the flower to reach the nectar, which means more pollen ends up on the hummingbird's head, ensuring pollination and making the hummingbird a very efficient pollinator.  To learn more about nectar spurs and pollinators, click here for the article, "The relationship between nectar spur curvature in jewelweed (Impatiens capensis) and pollen removal by hummingbird pollinators," by Steven Travers, Ethan Temeles, and Irvin Pan.

When you look at Spotted Jewelweed in profile, you can see how its horn-of-plenty shape and the small tubular spur at the base of the flower that holds nectar is perfect for a hummingbird.

Disperses seeds like a pro...
Jewelweed's common name, Touch-me-not, comes from its unusual method of seed dispersal. When the seed pods ripen, the slightest touch (even that of a strong breeze) triggers a pop that ejects the seeds up to four feet away. Unlike most wildflowers, Jewelweed is an annual, not a perennial, which means its only way to reproduce is through seed. Efficient seed dispersal is critical to its survival, so it's no surprise it has developed such a cool method of ensuring its seeds get distributed. In addition to jewelweed's showy horn-shaped flower, another type of flower called a cleistogamous flower contributes to seed production. This flower is inconspicuous, small and green, and it never opens. It is self pollinated, and when it ripens, the seeds are not thrown as far. Botanists assume this ensures some seeds stick close to the parent plant where they will thrive in the same habitat. The seeds from the pollinated flowers come from genes from two parents and are more likely to be able to survive in conditions that might be slightly different, so they are tossed far and wide. Additionally, it's scientific name of "Inpatiens" derives from this "impatient" explosion of seeds. Source: "The Book of Swamp and Bog; Trees, Shrubs, and Wildflowers of Eastern Freshwater Wetlands," by John Eastman, pgs 91-95. (p.s. This book is part of a series of three. The other two are "Forest and Thicket" and "Field and Roadside." I love them because they go into detail with lots of interesting tid bits!)  

The deep oranges and reds of Spotted Jewelweed are a preview of the warm colors of autumn. It's a perfect transition flower from summer to fall.

...if you want to wax whimsical, this little flower could totally be a hat for a little flower fairy or gnome. Too cute!

Jewelweed reseeds itself and grows in large colonies. It forms a dense canopy and can crowd out noxious weeds (much to the delight of migrating hummingbirds in late August, September, and early October).

Sparkling silver leaves...
I used to think jewelweed was named for its jewel-toned orange and yellow colors, but it's not. Several years ago, I photographed the yellow-colored jewelweed (Impatiens pallida), and after researching it, I learned the moniker referred to the leaves. When water droplets form on the leaves, they shine like tiny, sparkling jewels, and when the leaves are placed under water, the underside shines like silver. Click here to see photos of Yellow Jewelweed (Pale Touch-me-not). The post also covers its use as an antidote for stinging nettle burns, poison ivy rashes, and mosquito bites!

Banding Saw Whet Owls at Hueston Woods...wow!

Last Saturday evening I headed over to the Hueston Woods Biological Station with my friends Paul Kruesling and Joe Kappa to watch Northern Saw Whet owls (Aegolius acadicus) being banded by Drs. Jill and Dave Russel with the Avian Research and Education Institute (AREI).  Have you ever seen a Northern Saw Whet owl? Can you say cute...

Northern Saw Whet Owl (Aegolius acadicus) 
Cuter than cute can be, but this little night bird is a lethal hunter and can dispatch prey in one swoop and strike. 

Northern Saw Whet Owls are the smallest owls in eastern North America. They are rarely seen because  during the day, they sleep in conifer tangles, and if they are disturbed by a human tramping past, they do not flush. Their defense is to remain motionless, and it works. Northern Saw Whet Owls posses disruptive coloration (a camouflage pattern consisting of contrasting light and dark patches, spots or stripes), and it works best when the animal is still.

Is that bird tame?
Because Saw Whet Owls' primary defense is to remain motionless, they appear to be tame, but don't be fooled. They really are wild birds (just ask a mouse). Their "tameness" however, is legendary, and researchers report of being able to walk right up to one and pick it up off a branch. The diminutive owl is so calm around humans it appears to have no fear and even seems curious about us!

...those eyes, those fluffy feathers, that tiny little rectangular body....there's no doubt this pint-sized nocturnal hunter graduated from the Institute of Cute, but looks can be deceiving--there's might and fright behind all of that fluff...  

You may wonder how researchers capture these tiny owls. It's pretty cool. They select an area in the woods with dense stands of conifers and set up huge mist nets. The nets are placed near an audio player amplifying the male's territorial song. Every thirty minutes the mist nets are checked to see if an owl has flown into one. If one has, it's gently removed from the net and placed in a soft bag to await banding...

A Northern Saw Whet Owl rests in a soft bag waiting to be banded. We were able to watch Dave band three Saw Whet Owls and one Eastern Screech Owl.

...getting ready to place the band on the owl's leg. 

In addition to banding, researchers gather other data, such as the bird's weight, wing length, tail length, whether it's male or female, its age, and amount of fat deposits. It doesn't take very long to gather all this data and the little owl just watches and studies...

...the tiny bands that will be fastened around the owl's leg were strung like beads on a fine thread. They are very light and the bird doesn't even notice when one is attached. In the background, you can see the black calipers used to take small measurements. I didn't take notes that evening, so I don't remember everything that was measured. I was too busy marveling at the patient little owl. 

A closeup of a Northern Saw Whet Owl's facial disk shows the feathers of the facial disk are different from the feathers elsewhere on its body. Many look soft and fluffy, but others appear barbed or even skeletal. The feathers in the concave disk help direct sound to the ear openings.

As I mentioned earlier, these cute little brown and white owls with gorgeous yellow eyes are ferocious hunters and can kill their prey, often a deer mouse or a white-footed mouse, quickly and easily with their talons after a strike. Since the owls are small they usually only eat half of a mouse, storing the rest until the next meal. Also, if prey is abundant in winter, Saw Whet owls will stock up by stashing uneaten carcasses in tree holes where they remain frozen for future meals. When the owl is ready to eat from the frozen cache, it thaws out the meat by "incubating" it like an egg (source: Penn State, The Virtual Nature Trail, click here).

...the eyes of a Northern Saw Whet Owl look on patiently.

If you look closely, you can see the frayed edges of the owl's wing feathers. This unique adaptation is what gives them their silent flight. The trailing feathers are fringed and tattered and break up the sound waves generated as air flows over the top of the wings and forms downstream wakes (click here for an earlier post about Barn Owls that talks about this adaptation).

It was cold that night, but my giant snow parka kept me warm. The little owl felt like a ball of warm fluff in my hands. She was so gentle and never took her eyes off me. I can't describe how amazing it felt to hold this little wild creature. 

...being a night owl, I really appreciated getting out to see these owls, which are only passing through our area. Every fall, Saw Whets leave the northern forests where they nested and migrate south to their wintering grounds. Most have past through by the beginning of December. 

If you want to learn more about the work being done by the Avian Research and Education Institute, click here. From their website: "AREI is a non-profit organization dedicated to enhancing the preservation of avian populations. Our mission is to protect and conserve avian populations through research, education and advocacy. To this end, AREI is committed to establishing biological stations that will provide bird banding and environmental education to the public."

Large Milkweed Bugs (Oncopeltus fasciatus) at Fort Ancient

A few weeks ago I spent a little time hiking through the meadow by the Mound Trail at Fort Ancient. The grasses were brown and dry, and what was left of summer's bounty crackled and rattled with each breeze that worked itself through the tumble of spent flower heads and stalks. Autumn had drained the green from the landscape, and even the yellows had faded from the fields, but oranges and reds were still around to be found on the dry and cracked Common Milkweed plants...

An adult Large Milkweed Bug (Oncopeltus fasciatus) is surrounded by all five of its instars. The adult is at the top. It is the largest and has usable wings. Instars are nymphs, or immature versions of the bug. Instars differ in size, color and pattern. They also lack usable wings.

Large Milkweed bugs molt five times (nymphal instars) before they become adults. During these stages the nymphs look similar to the adults; however, if you look closely you can see each instar has its own color (from deep red to orange) and pattern. During the middle instars black wing pads start to form, but the wings are not usable until the fifth instar molts into an adult.

...also unique to the adult is the flame-red pattern on its face between its eyes...

...the adult Large Milkweed bug has a striking pattern of orange and black on its wings. Here you can see the veins that carry the hemolymph through the wings. On the final molt, the adult Milkweed bug pumps hemolymph through these veins to unfurl the wings. To see an adult who failed to open his wings, click here.

...a fifth instar almost looks like an adult, but lacks the defined face pattern, usable wings, and the eyes are much less "buggy!" Look to the right for a glimpse at an adult's eye.

One adult and several fifth instars mass together to form a color warning on an old Common Milkweed pod.

Since Large Milkweed bugs eat Common Milkweed sap, which contains toxic alkaloids, they do not taste good. A young bird only has to taste this bug once or twice to learn to avoid orange and black bugs! Large groupings of this color combination warn birds away. You may already know of another orange and black insect that has the same type of protection--the Monarch butterfly. Just like the Large Milkweed bug, Monarch butterfly caterpillars feed on Common Milkweed plants and concentrate the alkaloids in their tissue. When the caterpillars metamorphose into Monarch butterflies, they are toxic and also taste bad.

Another tidbit...I read on this site (click here) of an easy way to distinguish between a male and female milkweed bug--the female Milkweed bug has one black strip and two back dots on her abdomen, while a male has two thick black strips. I didn't know that before and never flipped one over to look. Next time I see one I'll take a peak.

...close-up of two later instars.

...close-up of an adult Milkweed bug--love the face tattoo.

This guy is not going to be hanging around much longer. These bugs migrate! Just like the Monarchs, they head south for the winter. Shorter days in autumn trigger diapause in the adults, which shuts down the reproductive system (source: "Migration: the biology of life on the move," by Hugh Dingle, page 139, click here to read more.). Shutting down the reproductive system saves energy and allows the Large Milkweed bugs and Monarch butterflies to migrate south for the winter. The same adult Milkweed bugs that overwintered in the south then migrate back north in the spring to lay the eggs of the next generation.

If you want to learn more about the Common Milkweed plant and all the insects that feed on it, check out this post by Marcia Bonta. I stumbled across it a few weeks ago and thought it would fit in here. For more photos of Large Milkweed Bugs, click here for an earlier post.

Black and White Warblers at Fort Ancient

...in addition to the Yellow-rumped Warblers (from this post), two Black and White Warblers were foraging in the pine grove. Poor things, they never seem to be able to decide if they are warblers or nuthatches...

A Black and White Warbler assumes his typical downward-walking nuthatch posture.

I see Black and White Warblers along the Little Miami by the Powder Factory all summer, and I've seen a few at Fort Ancient too, so this fellow may have been a summer resident getting ready to depart or a migrant stopping by to refuel on his trip south.

Click here for an interesting map (Figure 2) showing the travels of a group of migrating Black and White Warblers. Apparently, Black and Whites are slow migrators, taking 50 days to reach their breeding grounds at the rate of about 20 miles per day.

...the Black and White Warblers made pretty peeping sounds as they searched out caterpillars and other bugs. I always enjoy seeing them, and especially now. This might be the last encounter I have with one until next spring when they return or migrate through.