"What a thousand acres of Silphiums looked like when they tickled the bellies of the buffalo is a question never again to be answered, and perhaps not even asked." -Aldo Leopold
Today’s caterpillar is one of two species of Notodontid in the genus Symmerista. This is one of those frustrating cases of two species being so similar that confirming an identification is near impossible. Most of the literature suggests that the caterpillars of S. canicosta (red-humped oakworm) and S. albifrons (white-headed prominent) are indistinguishable as larvae and are so similar as adults that the only way to distinguish the two is by dissecting the genitalia. Both species are found in Missouri and both feed on the same host plants – beech, chestnut and oaks (any members of the Fagaceae). These are common and attractive cats that are gregarious in early instars but go solo when they get to this stage.
Found at Young Conservation area on 30, June, 2024.
For the past month or so I’ve been hitting the trails hard, trying my best to find caterpillars in the early to mid season. As expected, this has been tougher than the late season for me. My success rate in finding interesting and new species has been lower than I would like, but good thing the one strength I feel I truly possess in this life is pertinacity.
Usually by the late season cat hunts, hackberry trees (Celtis sp.) have all but dropped their leaves or look as though they should. Once I started beating branches of hackberries this summer, I found that the two species of Asterocampa (Nymphalidae) found in Missouri were quite easily found. Not only are the hackberry butterfly adults beautiful, but I find the caterpillars to be extremely cute as I hope you can agree with the photos below of the hackberry emperor (Asterocampa celtis).
Here’s an old one from the Facebook archives that somehow never managed to be put on the blog. This is the caterpillar of the curved-line owlet moth (Phyprosopus callitrichoides Hodges #8525), a fantastic member of the Noctuidae and one of several “grail species” that caterpillar hunters are on the lookout for from mid-summer to early fall. This one was found on August 20, 2016 at St. Francois State Park. I have not found another of these since, but I am hopeful that I might find one this year. Wherever I visit, I am looking closely at catbriers (Smilax sp.), which are there sole hosts.
A fantastical organism that is worthy of a place in a Tim Burton film – the curved-line owlet (Phyprosopus callitrichoides Hodges #8525).
I know it has something wise to say, if only I could understand…
The Zebra Swallowtail Butterfly (Eurytides marcellus) is a captivating and distinctive species known for its striking appearance and fascinating life cycle. Native to North America, this butterfly is easily recognized by its elongated wings adorned with black and white stripes, resembling the pattern of a zebra. Its elegance is not just limited to its appearance but extends to its behaviors, ecological interactions, and adaptations.
A copulating pair of Zebra Swallowtail (Eurytides marcellus) found at Washington State Park in Washington County, Missouri.
The life cycle of the Zebra Swallowtail Butterfly comprises four stages: egg, larva (caterpillar), pupa (chrysalis), and adult. The cycle begins when a female lays eggs singly on the leaves of the pawpaw tree (Asimina spp.), the primary host plant for this species. The eggs hatch into caterpillars, which are initially green and mimic the appearance of the pawpaw leaves. As they grow, the caterpillars undergo several molts, during which their coloration may change to include yellow and black bands.
Late instar caterpillar of the Zebra Swallowtail (Eurytides marcellus) found at Myron and Sonya Glassberg Family Conservation Area in Jefferson County, Missouri.
Pawpaws contain toxic secondary chemicals called acetogenins that the developing swallowtail caterpillars sequester and which persist in the tissues and wings of adults, providing effective protection against most predators.
Brown form of the Zebra Swallowtail (Eurytides marcellus) chrysalis found at Meramec State Park in Franklin County, Missouri.
The fellas and I spent a few hours this spring hunting for a few butterflies in Phelps and Franklin Counties. We finally had some success locating the rare golden-banded skipper after numerous attempts over the past two or three seasons. We were hunting in the right place, but not in the exact right spot. Thanks to our friends who shared the location of their original find.
The Golden-banded Skipper (Telegonus cellus)
In order to find and identify the rare skipper butterflies (Hesperiidae), one must first find and take lots of photos of the more common species. There are so many skippers that look very similar to each other and even with taking photos, I found it to be a painful chore to come to the correct identification on many of these. Many thanks to CA Ivy from Butterflies and Moths of North America for helping me get the proper IDs on the following.
Little Glassy Wing (Pompeius verna)
Northern Cloudywing (Thorybes pylades)
Bell’s Roadside-Skipper (Amblyscirtes belli)
Delaware Skipper (Anatrytone logan)
Least Skipper (Ancyloxypha numitor)
Zabulon Skipper (Poanes zabulon)
We found other leps besides skippers, including quite a few of the Ozark Baltimore Checkerspot (Euphydryas phaeton ozarkae).
It was so nice to see something with these colors and patterns that wasn’t a dang Pearl Crescent. This one is the Silvery Checkerspot (Chlosyne nycteis).
I’ve struggled for years to get a photo of the Little Wood-Satyr (Megisto cymela). I finally found the trick to get them to stay put for a few seconds… 😉
Casey and I stumbled across this first for me – a gorgeous Tephra Tussock Moth (Dasychira tephra) caterpillar.
Not another lep, but we had a few of this fantastic species – the Saw-combed Fishfly (Nigronia serricornis) associated with a fen and creek we were searching in.
It has been suggested that we might be seeing a very good moth and butterfly season this year due to birds and other predators filing up and raising their young on the Brood XIX periodical cicadas. From my anecdotal experiences, this seems to be true. Hopefully I can find more caterpillars over the summer if this continues to be the case.
Early this month the WGNSS Nature Photography Group traveled to the southwest part of the state. Our primary destination, the Roston Native Butterfly House, is a real treasure that I never get tired of visiting.
Officially considered as an accidental species in Missouri, the Dianna fritillary (Speyeria diana) has a strong population in the mountains of northwest Arkansas.
The Roston Native Butterfly House was established to create a haven for local butterfly species and to educate the public about their ecological significance. Its history is rooted in conservation efforts and the desire to preserve native butterfly populations threatened by habitat loss and environmental changes.
Another fritillary, the great spangled (Speyeria cybele)
This native butterfly house, located within the Springfield Botanical Garden, was created and named in honor of Dr. Bill Roston, an MD of the small town of Forsyth, MO who had an avid interest in conservation and pollinators. Today this lovely location is curated by Dr. Chris Barnhart and his wife Deborah.
A couple individuals at slightly different stages of pupation. These are the larvae of the viceroy (Limenitis archippus) which resemble bird droppings.
Pictured above is a caterpillar of the silver-sided skipper (Epargyreus clarus).
The Barnharts and their staff of volunteers do an incredible job of rearing several native butterfly species and maintain a nice population of their required host plants within the house. The Barnharts welcome several thousand visitors each year and do an excellent job in educating the visitors on the life histories and conservation stories of the butterflies they raise. Chris and Deborah always eagerly support our small group visits and often go out of their way to help us get the photographs of the butterflies and caterpillars we are after.
The Roston Native Butterfly House is a great place to see many of the swallowtail species found in our region, like this newly emerged giant swallowtail (Papilio cresphontes).
Here are a couple of shots of the incredible larvae of the pipevine swallowtail (Papilio troilus). These cats are typically very conspicuous feeders, relying on their aposematic coloration to warn predators of their poisonous disposition.
Native to Florida, Cuba and the Bahamas, the Atala butterfly is an excellent example of a specialist. The Atala (Eumae atala) feed only on the coontie cycad (Zamia integrifolia). You might notice that this member of the Lycinidae (hairstreaks) family also shows aposematic coloration in both larval and adult forms. This is to warn predators of the neurotoxic secondary plant compound – cycasin, that they ingest from their cycad hosts and carry with them for their entire lives.
Related to the common hairstreak butterflies seen in our own backyards, the Atala butterfly is a tropical representative of this family native to Florida.
The Barnharts go to great lengths to rear the Atala butterflies. They bring back larvae from cycad farms (that really don’t want them) in Florida and must make sure they raise and overwinter enough cycad plants for them to raise the cats to their adult forms.
Nothing against the typical butterfly houses that tend to showcase tropical species from around the world, but I would sure like to see more strictly native butterfly houses like the Roston Native Butterfly House. As I hope my photographs show, not only are the natives spectacular, but showcasing them in this type of setting helps to educate its visitors on the species they might see in their own neighborhoods or while out on the trails.
Chrysalises of the various native butterflies can usually be observed when visiting the Roston Native Butterfly House in Springfield, MO.
A great big thank you to Chris and Deborah for always being gracious hosts. We are looking forward to more visits.
Back in early May of this year, a small group from the WGNSS Nature Photography Group headed out to visit some glades in Washington County, Missouri. Being a relatively wet and cool spring, we expected the glades to be lush and full of blooming wildflowers. These specialized blooming plants and their associated pollinators were our planned primary targets for this beautiful Saturday.
Unfortunately for us, the timing of our visit did not seem to be optimal. We found very few plants in bloom and even fewer interesting butterflies and skippers that we were hoping to find. However, I noticed something about this particular glade that Casey had steered us into. Looking around, I noticed that there was very little sign that foot traffic or rock tipping had occurred recently – something that plagues the more popular glades in Missouri.
Normally, I loathe the thought of rock-tipping – the process of lifting rocks in sunny natural areas in order to find reptiles, amphibians and arthropods. As I alluded to above, this activity can be highly over-practiced and is often accompanied by people harassing or collecting the animals found. In large and popular glades, the signs of rock tipping can be abundantly clear. Just look for large flat rocks that have obviously been moved and are no longer in close contact with their underlying soil substrate. In this case, because we were on the lookout for improvised subjects and the fact that this area has not seen much pressure from others, we decided to carefully tip a few to see what we might find.
Little did I know what a treat we were in for. With tipping over just a few stones, we were able to find close to 20 prairie ring-neck snakes (Diadophis punctatus arnyi), including one albino! The prairie ring-neck is a small, slender snake native to prairies and other grasslands in the central United States.
An albino prairie ring-neck snake (Diadophis punctatus arnyi)
These snakes can reach up to 14 inches in length, but seem much smaller due to their slender build. This species primarily feeds on small invertebrates such as earthworms, slugs, and insects, but may also consume small amphibians and other reptiles. The prairie ring-neck snake is considered an opisthoglyphous colubrid, meaning they possess small fangs in the rear of their mouths along with a very mild venom. They are completely harmless to humans as they will very rarely attempt to bite, relying instead on a foul-smelling musk that they emit along with exposing their orange and red warning colors on their undersides in order to dissuade predators. On rare reports of bites to humans, the reaction has been described as a mild discomfort or stinging sensation, akin to a nettle sting or a sting from a sweat bee.
A typically colored prairie ring-neck snake
Rock tipping can also yield a number of interesting invertebrates. Although we did not find any tarantulas or black widows that can be found in this manner, we did find Missouri’s only scorpion and a common centipede.
The striped bark scorpion (Centruroides vittatus)
The rock centipede (Lithobius forficatus)
When we were done with our subjects we made sure they all found their way back safely underneath their rock dwellings.
Today I am showcasing an example of biological pest control that I came across in my own neighborhood in late April of this year. The image below shows a bronzed cutworm moth larvae (Nephelodes minians) in the Family Noctuidae that has been parasitized by a Braconid wasp in the genus Cotesia. This is a very species-rich genus of parasitoids, but there is a fair chance of this species being C. marginiventris. Thanks very much to Alex Soohoo-Hui for his assistance in narrowing down the identification of this minute wasp.
A deceased bronzed cutworm (Nephelodes minians) caterpillar in the final stages of hosting its parasitoid Braconid brood.
The bronzed cutworm is a very common moth that feeds on various grasses, including crops like maize and other cereals as well as turf grasses. I consistently find these cats or their chrysalis whenever I dig a new hole in the yard.
When I found and collected these animals, the last couple of wasp larvae were finishing up spinning their cocoons.
After the wasp deposits her eggs on the host, the wasp larvae feed on the caterpillar internally, being careful not to do much damage to vital organs. The host will never survive, but the parasitoids must ensure that it stays alive long enough for the brood to reach maturity. Often, the caterpillar will still be alive when the wasp larvae emerge and begin to spin their cocoons and will defend itself and its parasites from potential predators.
Three cocoons showing the doors that the adult wasps chewed their way out of.
In this case, the caterpillar seemed dead. I collected it and took it home with hopes of rearing out the tiny wasps to photograph and identify. In about four days, I came home to find 15-20 adult wasps had emerged.
The adult wasps are extremely tiny, measuring 2-3 mm. In order to have a chance at getting photographs, I placed their enclosure into the refrigerator for a minute or two. The wasps in the accompanying images might appear dead, but they perked up within a couple of minutes. After getting my photographs, I released the brood into my backyard to continue their pest control services.
A Braconid wasp in the genus Cotesia, potentially C. marginiventris.
A couple more looks at this diminutive but effective parasitoid.
Anyone with a bit of knowledge about the St. Francois River of southeastern Missouri has probably heard of or has even visited the well-known stretch of the Tiemann Shut-ins that create the great series of class 1-3 rapids that experienced kayakers long to ride. The stretch of this river between Millstream Gardens and Silver Mines Recreational Area is one of the most scenic and biodiverse areas of the Show-Me State.
This spring I was turned on to three new-to-me shut-ins in the St. Francois watershed that I should have visited long ago. At first, it was surprising to me that these three geological features are not more well known. However, once I found out a little of the difficulty of getting to these locations, I am now not surprised at all.
Looking up Turkey Creek
The St. Francois Watershed The geological history of the St. Francois River watershed is a tale written in stone, shaped over millions of years by dynamic processes. At its core lies the ancient Ozark Plateau, characterized by its resilient dolomite and limestone bedrock, remnants of a bygone era when shallow seas covered the region. Erosion and uplift sculpted the landscape, carving out rugged hills, steep bluffs, and winding valleys that define the watershed’s topography today.
Upper Stouts Creek Shut-ins
Within the embrace of the St. Francois River watershed thrives a rich tapestry of ecological diversity, harboring a multitude of habitats that support an abundance of plant and animal life. The forested slopes of the Ozarks provide refuge for a myriad of tree species, from towering oaks and hickories to delicate dogwoods and redbuds. Beneath the canopy, a lush understory of ferns, wildflowers, and mosses carpet the forest floor, while clear, spring-fed streams meander through the landscape, sustaining populations of freshwater mussels, fish, and amphibians.
The traveler to the shut-ins of the St. Francois River watershed should always be on the lookout for cottonmouths.
The river itself serves as a lifeline for countless species, offering vital habitat and nourishment along its meandering course. From the elusive Ozark hellbender to the Bald Eagle, the St. Francois River watershed supports a diverse array of wildlife, including many species of conservation concern. Endemic flora and fauna, such as the Ozark chinquapin and the Hine’s emerald dragonfly, find sanctuary within the watershed, highlighting its importance as a stronghold for biodiversity.
About Missouri’s Shut-ins Shut-ins are a testament to the enduring forces of nature. Formed over many thousands of years, these unique rock formations are the result of a complex interplay between water erosion and geological upheaval. The shut-ins, characterized by narrow channels and cascading waterfalls, are formed when swiftly flowing streams encounter resistant igneous bedrock, creating natural barriers that redirect the flow and sculpting the surrounding landscape into breathtaking formations.
Humidity in these creek beds is usually very high, creating fog and haze. Turkey Creek Shut-ins.
Beyond their stunning beauty, shut-ins are also home to a diverse array of flora and fauna. The cool, clear waters of the shut-ins provide a habitat for various aquatic species, including aquatic invertebrates, freshwater mussels and fish. Along the rocky banks, towering hardwood forests thrive, offering refuge to an abundance of wildlife, from songbirds to white-tailed deer. The unique microclimate created by the shut-ins supports a rich tapestry of plant life, including rare species adapted to the harsh conditions of the rocky terrain.
Upper Stouts Creek Shut-ins One of the main feeding branches of the St. Francois River, Stouts Creek contains a number of picturesque shut-ins. Casey and I had noted this particular one driving by for years but had never made the stop. We had to trespass a little to get our shots, but the folks who own this property are, theoretically at least, supposed to be inclined to forgive those who trespass. We spent just a few minutes here and were in and out without incident.
Upper Stouts Creek Shut-ins
Turkey Creek Shut-ins Flowing from the north, Turkey Creek empties its contents into the east side of the St. Francois River, just upriver from the historic Silvermines Dam. Getting to the Turkey Creek Shut-ins requires either a treacherous hike along the creek from the confluence, or a slightly less arduous bushwhack up and over a highland to the sight of the more picturesque parts of the shut-ins. Taking the easier way means missing portions of the shut-ins but will also result in fewer potential run-ins with cottonmouth snakes and ankle-snapping rocks.
Turkey Creek Shut-ins
Swimming holes abound in shut-ins like these at Turkey Creek.
Turkey Creek Shut-ins
Mud Creek Shut-ins Mud Creek Shut-ins are definitely one of the most memorable shut-ins that I have had the pleasure to visit – not only because of their classic St. Francois Mountain beauty, but due to my story in reaching them. As is the case with Turkey Creek Shut-ins, these shut-ins can be reached by paddling the St. Francois River. However, I doubt my kayak skills would service safe passage across the class-3 rapids of this stretch of the river, especially while carrying expensive camera gear.
Moving upstream along Mud Creek from its confluence with the St. Francois, one first gets to view this very nice waterfall.
The next best option? Footing it across. I began this trek from the parking lot of the Silvermines Recreational Area. In times of high water, the low footbridge across the St. Francois River can be underwater, so I recommend parking on the north side of the river and paying the ridiculous $5.00 to park your car for a few hours.
The water finds multiple pathways against the rock as the creek races down the ravine.
From the parking area, I took the “trail” that runs upstream along the north side of the river until I got to the namesake mines. From here, it was steep climbing until I eventually ran into an old two-track that allowed for some switch-backing until I eventually rose from the river’s ravine into a more upland forest. Although the topology here was more manageable, fallen trees were everywhere, presumably from strong storms of recent years. The bushwhacking got frustrating, especially with the need to eat a spider or two every five to ten steps! Using my GPS, I kept the river to my right side and generally headed to the northeast to where Mud Creek meets the St. Francois. I should have headed much further to the north, but I kept finding myself heading back into the boulder-strewn ravine of the river. Eventually, I learned my lesson and rose to the highest elevation possible and made a direct line to where the GPS told me the confluence would be. Finally arriving, I realized I was then facing the hurdle of heading back down the ravine to the confluence. I could hear rushing water from the east and the north, shut-ins along the river and creek, respectively. I chose my point to descend into the ravine, not knowing if this would take me to sheer cliffs that would force me back up to try again. I eventually stumbled into the relatively small river bank that was thick with twenty foot tall alder and witch-hazel thickets.
Mud Creek Shut-ins
Clearing these thickets, with water halfway up my wellies (I got my first pair of Gumleaf boots recently, so I can no longer call these muck boots), I was finally able to see the confluence. Navigating around huge boulders, I began clambering up Mud Creek and almost immediately came upon the nicest waterfall of these shut-ins. About this time, the sky began to darken. Most of my trek to this point was in mostly sunny skies, making me wonder if the overcast skies forecasted for this afternoon where ever going to happen. Now I was hearing thunder and watching dark skies closing in quickly from the west.
Porphyry and swirls
I realized I probably had limited rain-free time with the shut-ins so I got to work, moving myself and my gear from one point of interest to the next upstream. This type of landscape photography is not for the faint of heart! Due to the sharp sides of the ravine, I was forced to cross the creek several times, negotiating deep pools, fast-moving water and slippery rocks. On several occasions, I used my tripod as an extra set of legs, helping me stabilize myself while crossing the creek.
Mudd Creek Shut-ins
Getting about a half mile upstream from the confluence, the shut-ins widened, opening up to large sections of exposed granite. It was around here that I decided the storm was not going to pass me by, but come right down on me. The thunder was getting closer and more frequent. I put my camera bodies and lenses into individual Ziplock bags and put the rain cover over my bag just when the sky opened up with torrential rains. It was then that I realized I was on the wrong side of the creek to get back to where I needed to be. I also sensed the waters in Mud Creek were starting to rise. The opposite side of the creek this far upstream looked like near-vertical cliffs, but I knew I probably did not have time to head back downstream to a point where I made the crossing earlier. I found the closet point to make a relatively safe crossing and found myself with just a few feet between the steep rise of the ravine and the creek that seemed to be increasing inch by inch. I found some handholds and started climbing. Spiders be damned!
St. Francois Mountain Beauty!
I climbed as carefully as possible, making progress while the rain came down in sheets and lighting danced across the sky directly above me. In five to ten minutes I made it up the approximately 400 feet of increased elevation and reached the top of the ravine. Not liking the idea of clambering down the opposite side of the ravine to get back to the mines, I decided a better route back would be to stay in the uplands and head north to Highway D to get back to my car. That was another two-mile bushwhack, back through the fallen trees, my wellies filling up with rain water, and limited visibility. I eventually made it to the road, finding my way safely back to my car. Not wanting to ruin my seat with my soaking wet cloths and not having a dry change of cloths, I striped to my boxer-briefs, put a towel down on my seat and drove the two-hours home. Thankfully I did nothing to raise the attention of any authorities on the way. 😉
I’d Like to thank Casey Galvin, Kathy Bildner and midwesthiker.com for the information that helped me reach these fantastic locations!
Pachysandra procumbens (Family Buxaceae), commonly known as Allegheny spurge or mountain pachysandra, is a species of flowering plant native to the southeastern United States. Many thanks to Pete, who turned us on to this small group of plants that was found in Forest Park in St. Louis City. Not native to this region, this was obviously planted there at some point.
A newly emerging inflorescence of Pachysandra procumbens.
Pachysandra procumbens has a delicate and unique appearance. Its leaves are larger and serrated, with a distinct purple-bronze coloration in the spring that matures to a glossy green throughout the growing season.
A prime inflorescence of Pachysandra procumbens against a backdrop of its leaves.
In the spring, Pachysandra procumbens produces small, white, bottlebrush-like flowers that are highly attractive to pollinators such as bees and butterflies. These flowers give way to small, berry-like fruits that add further interest. This plant prefers moist, well-drained soil and is partial to full shade. The inflorescence are small, but definitely worth a close look.
