Sunday, April 15, 2018

Sun and water, part 1






There is "spring"
  and then there are all the happenings
  today that don't fit into it.
To know these things, ask yourself,
Where is water flowing?
Where is sun-heat pooling,
   gathering?
Here you will find the creatures
  that do their thing now,
  not waiting for greenup--
  because this is their time.
They are a quirky lot,
  and no less captivating for it.
In staking their claim
  to this forgotten season,
  they help me to value it,
  and to give it due place
  in the march of life.
And more than that,
  they give me heart.
  I am buoyant, for them.

---



It's twenty-eighteen,
March the first,
and where is water flowing?
In the maple trees, for one--
water, with a certain
sugary life-force of the trees
intermixed.






Friends Wendy and Jim in their maple grove, March 1, 2018

Jim, one of two human syrupers
in this caref'lly tended sugar bush,
had told me as I went out this day
that he'd already seen 
a few "Diptera."
Music to my ears;
and yes, there they were.
The hardy few,
already astir--
drawn by the life-water
drip-dropping from the spiles.




Fly #1





Fly #2...

...and a springtail nearby (at lower left).
Ah yes, the springtails!


(More on them soon.)

And spiders on the buckets, too.



This creature was all too familiar:
An arachnid of the most intrepid sort,
  one I'd seen before, in winter--
  on the snow.


Eustala sp. orbweaver on sap bucket, March 1, 2018

Another spider refused to pose on the bucket
  where I found it;
  we had to settle
  for a more terranean photo shoot.





Young Dolomedes sp. spider from sap bucket, March 1, 2018

There was even a scale-wing
  I'd count among the smallest moths
  I'd ever seen.




Pale as a grain of rice,
   but smaller still than that!




Phyllocnistis (Greek: "leaf scraper") moth resting on sap bucket, March 1, 2018.
 As a larva, this animal mined the leaf of a tree or shrub sometime in the previous growing season. (1)
See also: Another local example of a similar adult; a larva's leaf mine and a pupa of Phyllocnistis insignis

All this life!  And yet--
On some nearby slopes
  where maples grow,
  the ground slumbers daylong
  in shadow, sunbeams never reaching
  its deep blue patches of snow.
  Things are quieter there.

But Jim and Wendy's trees
  stand on ground more favorably inclined.

The slope is gentle, the aspect such
  that sunlight does its thing--
  brightening the russet sea of fallen leaves;
  heating up the maple trunks;
  melting puddles in remnant ice...





...Puddles where springtails play!


A still from a video of a springtail "raft" on meltwater, March 1, 2018
(Click here for a video of these animals afloat and awriggle on their puddle.)

Now you may say,
Yes, well and good this is--
  but nothing's green!
But then of course if you were there
  you might have stooped at base of tree
  where trunk and ground,
  both sun-warmed, met;
  and there you would have found
  indeed and truly, all asprout,
  that tenderest of toughies:

Spring beauty!



See how readily it emerges,
Leaves and flower-buds,
  all in one!




---

Now, of those arthropods I found
  resting on the buckets--
The leaf-scraper moth, tiny and pale;
  the spiders; 
  just perhaps
  they're on the buckets just by chance.
But not the flies.
Nay, they know when sap's adrip;
  reliably they seek it out.
In April soon, sapsuckers' wells
  will draw them by the dozen.
Also, larger moths will come--
  Lithophane, Orthosia too,
  Eupsilia, and more.
Wisconsin moth guy Kyle J
  knows them all by sight!
Algona, Iowa's Matthew K
  spends time with sap-moths too;
both more than I.
Soon I'll make a sap-moths post
  to bring these creatures more to light.
For now, I'll simply show a few
  that got into the buckets
  at Jim and Wendy's sugar bush
  around the thirty-first of March:

Unidentified moth in sap bucket, March 31, 2018.  This moth was alive,
and upon bringing it indoors I was able to keep it that way for a number of days.

A second sap bucket moth, removed from the bucket and placed on leaf litter for photography.
Clearly this is an animal well adapted for life in the current season of browns and grays.









A third sap bucket moth -- also alive...
...and likely grateful to be rescued
The previous two moths, posed side by side on an old maple leaf.
I believe (correct me if I'm wrong, readers!) these are both Eupsilia sp. (Noctuidae)

And that's not all!
Indeed will moths like these appear
  at wells from which sapsuckers drink; 
  but plant exudates draw in birds
  beside sapsuckers, too.
This titmouse sipped some resinous stuff
  oozing from a cut ash stump
  just out my kitchen window--
way back on January 31st,
  a day sun-soaked but still quite cool.



Oops!  I spooked the titmouse
  as I watched it, once or twice;
  yet three times it returned
  to take another drink!
When it left the final time
  I crept outside that I might try
  this liquid worth four visits
  from a certain thirsty bird;
  I put a drop upon my tongue--
  'twas noticeably sweet!


Sweet exudate from cut ash stump, imbibed repeatedly by a tufted titmouse.  Beard Century Farm, January 31, 2018

Nearby I watched as chickadees
  oft visited a leaky wound
  on a walnut twig.

So liquid flows and brings new life!

---

Now sap flow* moths from March's end
  and January titmouse drinks
  are lovely through and through--
  but where was I?
Ah yes, at certain sugar bush
  on March the very first.

And still, back then at March's start,
 yet one more sap flow consequence
 (albeit left from springs now gone):
Where is sun-heat
  pooling, gathering?
Once again, on maple trunks!
  Past years' sap-flows stained them black,
  a color good at holding warmth!
________
* From here on out I use the term "sap flow" to refer to the special circumstance of sap leaking from a tree trunk due to some injury to the tree.  In dendrology the term "sap flow" may more properly be used to describe the normal movement of liquids inside the tree.


Fly basking on blackened trunk of sugar maple, Twin Springs Park, March 2, 2018.
Maple trees affected heavily by sap leakage ("sap flows") in previous seasons
may be located by visually scanning the woods for their trunks' dark color.




Worshipping the sun god, eh?
Helios was, for Greeks, that god.
Clearly, then, it's fitting that
  this family of flies bears his name--
Heleomyzidae!
(Hee-lee-oh-MY-zih-dee.)
The flies of Helios.
**CORRECTION near the bottom of the page here: Falling in Spring**

The sun flies!

Of heleomyzids, Bugguide says:
"Tend to be common in early spring"2
  (and also late in autumn).

Same day, same place,
I came across two sun flies, who,
  perhaps for all the sunniness,
  were in a certain mood.

Heleomyzids in copula, Twin Springs Park, March 2, 2018




Did the person who named the sun flies know
  them to bask in Sol's good rays?
Is that why they possess this name?
Perhaps.
They are surely known for hardiness
  when it comes to cold, like early spring's.
To this could Vikings testify.
Two Heleomyza species flew
  amok in Viking settlements,
  breeding in the pit latrines;
  to them they were as house flies.
Yes, archaeol'gists poring over
  yard-deep cores of Greenland soil
  find sun fly exoskeleton bits
  where'er the Vikings were!3
And truly, yes, it must behoove
  these northerly flies to be
  attuned to spots like maple trunks
  where sun-heat cuts a chilling breeze.

---

Just one more thing,
  I promise.

Another moving-water place
  is bubbling spring or seep.
The third of March already saw
  fresh growth at one such local spot:
Skunk cabbage! Lo!

One of the year's first skunk cabbage spathes, Seed Savers Exchange, March 3, 2018.  Photo courtesy Mark v.

At that time neighbor cabbages
  lay dormant under ice or snow;
But just along a trickle where
  the water kept things thawed--
Here only grew the hoodlike spathes,
  the cabbage-patch's first forays
  into the temperamental season.
And see, already, came a fly
  attracted by the pungent scent!




By March 19th, few other spathes
  arose in yonder cabbage-patch;
Yet still were flies attracted there
  to ply skunk cabbage spadices
  (the yellowish clubs inside the hoods
  that bear this odd plant's flowers)--
  on which the flies soon found themselves
  aglow with golden pollen.

Spathe with fly, March 19, 2018.  Note spadix concealed inside the spathe.



---

In part 2 (written in regular prose...) we'll visit a few other local places where sunshine and flowing water enable a diversity of interesting life-forms to thrive, even in this wrenching season of fits and starts.

Sun and water, part 2 (coming soon)

---

NOTES

Thanks to John and Jane B, Laura P, Kyhl A, John C, and others for their expertise and assistance with my associated Bugguide posts; to Seed Savers Exchange and to Wendy and Jim S for access to their wild places; to Kyle J for identifying some moths I collected from a sap flow last year; to MJ for permission to reference her rearing and photography work; and to my brother Mark v for his photo of the March 3 skunk cabbage spathe

Check out this heleomyzid fly drawn to fermenting sap in June (Bugguide photo series by MJ Hatfield)

I'm definitely not the only Decorah area naturalist who enjoys using poetry to communicate about the wild world.  Another example: Larry Reis' book Noting Nature.

1. "Genus Phyllocnistis" (Bugguide): https://bugguide.net/node/view/92118
2. "Family Heleomyzidae" (Bugguide): https://bugguide.net/node/view/12760
3. Skidmore, P. A dipterological perspective on the Holocene history of the North Atlantic area. PhD thesis, University of Sheffield: 1996.  This is an incredible work!  Available online at http://etheses.whiterose.ac.uk/14628/1/364330_VOL1.pdf