The Queen of the Hornets

Beautifully colored and patterned, robust, and close to 40 mm in length, this is definitely the largest hymenopteran I have encountered to date. At first I mistook it for a Cicada Killer, however, it's actually a European Hornet (Vespa crabro), an introduced species. This individual is a queen and measured a little over 40 mm in length; the workers and drones are smaller.

The hornet can't fly because its wings are injured and it's also missing a couple of legs, probably as a result of a collision with a vehicle – I hope the car and the driver are OK. And luckily for me, despite its size the insect was not aggressive. While hornets will obviously sting or bite if mishandled and are aggressive in defense of their nests, the European Hornet is much more easy-going than some of its cousins such as the Bald-faced Hornet.

Luna Moth

With a wingspan of about 11 centimeters, Actias luna is not the largest of the Saturniid or Giant Silk Moths, but in my opinion it is definitely the most distinctive and beautiful member of its family. Although this individual's wings have a bit of wear and tear and an overcast day created poor lighting conditions, it was almost impossible to take a bad photo of this striking insect.

Some more Luna Moth images – not as photogenic but nonetheless interesting due to the dramatic differences from the adult form – a caterpillar prior to pupation, and a well-camouflaged cocoon in the forest floor litter.

The Hunt for the Juniper Hairstreak

Callophrys gryneus gryneus, the eastern subspecies of the Juniper Hairstreak, is considered to be rare, but if you search in the proper habitat and on the right host plant – Eastern Red Cedar – during its flight season from late May until June, you just might be lucky enough to stumble across this elusive little butterfly.

The insect below was photographed perching on Eastern Red Cedar, one of several in a stand at a high and dry field about 1.5 km west of Tweed. I scoured the same location in vain last year and had pretty much given up hope on ever seeing a Juniper Hairstreak, but when a friend produced a photo of one he encountered a couple of days ago near this area the hunt was on again.

It seems that last June I was looking far too low; the butterflies prefer to perch on twigs and branches that are about eight to ten feet above the ground. A helpful technique that works very well is a suggestion in the Peterson's Field Guide to Eastern Butterflies – try gently tapping the junipers with a long stick to startle the Juniper Hairstreaks into flight. We observed at least three, possibly four, individual insects, and on a couple of occasions saw males engaged territorial disputes. The image below is the only one I could get but it's good enough for now, and next on my agenda ... a photo of a mating pair ...

Hudsonian Whiteface (Leucorrhinia hudsonica)

Two or three pairs of eyes are better than one, and it's fortunate that I had a friend along on this particular nature photography hike, else I would have completely overlooked this small odonate. When he said there was a red dragonfly sitting along the trail I was somewhat skeptical ... in a couple more months the meadowhawks will be flying, but a red dragonfly this early in the year?

Nonetheless, the Hudsonian Whiteface does indeed have an overall red aspect, and the dorsal streaks extending to S7 on the abdomen are key identifying features – the only other species of Leucorrhinia in our area similarly marked (but not in red) is the immature male Dot-tailed Whiteface. In seven years of nature study and photography this is my first and only encounter with this small dragonfly.

At a length of about 30 mm the Hudsonian Whiteface is about the same size as our other local Leucorrhinia species (there are three others – the Dot-tailed Whiteface, the Frosted Whiteface and the Belted Whiteface).

A lateral view of the dragonfly: the sides of the thorax are marbled black and red. The hamules indicate that this is a male, and the shape is correct for Leucorrhinia hudsonica.

A dorsal and oblique view of the terminal appendages – I was somewhat remiss because I should have also taken ventral shots of the epiproct, because its profile is important in separating the different whiteface species.

However, enough of the trailing edge of the epiproct is visible in this oblique view that we can safely say it belongs to a Hudsonian Whiteface.

Slender Fragile Fern

It's one of nature's ironies that sometimes the seemingly delicate and fragile living things inhabit the most challenging, inhospitable environments. Yet the Slender Fragile Fern (Cystopteris tenuis), also known as Mackay's Brittle Fern, clings to shaded areas on rock faces where one would think it difficult for a plant to survive, let alone flourish.

The dorsal surface ...

... and the underside of a frond.

Closeup views of the sori (spore producing structures).

Ontario's One and Only Lizard

These are images that I never dreamed I would capture, for two reasons. One is that the Common Five-lined Skink is wary and moves like greased lightning. Sneaking up close to this small lizard with a Canon PowerShot A530 is virtually impossible, imagine trying to approach within one foot of a bird! The few photos below are the result of over twenty hours of patiently waiting in the hot sun, hoping the skink would become accustomed to my prescence and come out to bask.

The other reason I never thought I would acquire photographs of the Common Five-lined Skink (Plestiodon fasciatus) is that I had no idea they were living within walking distance of home. I have seen them on the rocks along the Skootamatta River shoreline near Storring's Bridge, and they are reputed to inhabit the Sheffield Conservation Area ... where I have hiked for hours and seen not a one. This lizard's abode borders the trans-Canada Trail about one kilometer east of town; here's the view from the trail, looking to the south.

One of the rock outcroppings where the skinks were observed; I believe there are at least three distinct lizards in the area. This is prime Common Five-lined Skink real estate, plenty of fissures, crevices and overhangs creating perfect places for basking, nesting, hibernating and hiding from predators. It's also a great place for a careless person to fall or break a leg.

The bluish tail indicates that this individual is a juvenile. The first Common Five-lined Skink observed in this area (spotted by a friend, about thirty feet to the south of where the pictures were taken) was less boldly striped and its tail was more gray than blue; I think it was a mature female.

The little reptile – about 12 or 13 cm in length – seldom emerged fully into the sunlight, leaving at least his (or her?) tail in the shade. I don't know if this was for the purpose of maintaining an optimal body temperature, or because it felt more comfortable knowing it could make a hasty retreat if necessary.

When my friend sighted the first Common Five-lined Skink she saw only its head poking out from among dead leaves in a crevice and mistook it for a Garter Snake, so – a quick primer on the differences between snakes and lizards.

Legs can sometimes be a distinguishing characteristic, definitely in this case as the Common Five-lined Skink is our sole lizard species. But in general this isn't a reliable way to tell snakes and lizards apart since there are many species of legless lizards. Another difference is that lizards have external ear openings, whereas in snakes they are lacking. As a substitute for hearing snakes rely on sensing vibrations transmitted through the ground. And finally, lizards have moveable eyelids and snakes do not – while he was sunning himself this little guy would blink now and again.

The external ears and moveable eyelids weren't visible from a distance, making it easy to mistake the Common Five-lined Skink for a snake. However, the legs were quite obvious when it came out of hiding and trundled across the rock right in front of us. And my camera? It was sitting ten feet away – of course. All in all, though I didn't get a picture of the first encounter I'm happy that she espied the lizard and pointed it out to me, because I was looking the other way at that moment and would never have noticed it. And would still be unaware that Ontario's one and only lizard is hanging out practically in my back yard ...

An Abbott's Sphinx, a Grapevine Epimenis and a Luna Moth

You know it's going to be a good day when there's a cool moth you've never seen before hanging out on the wall outside your door. Like many moths the profile and cryptic coloration of the Abbott's Sphinx (Sphecodina abbottii) make it resemble a piece of bark.

A closer look reveals that the drab brown tones are mixed with subtly beautiful patterns and colors.

Not the sharpest of images, but one is seldom lucky enough to capture an Abbott's Sphinx (or any other insect, for that matter) in flight using a small point-and-shoot camera.

Easily mistaken for a butterfly, the Grapevine Epimenis (Psychomorpha epimenis) is one of our day flying moth species. Given its diurnal habits and bold colors this little moth certainly isn't trying to conceal its presence. Are the colors possibly aposematic? Here are a few more photos of a Grapevine Epimenis encountered last summer ... A Flutter of Butterflies .

Yes, this is a moth. Over 30 cm in length, the cocoon was mixed in the litter near the base of a tree, the dead leaves incorporated into its thin papery weave making it virtually invisible in the debris. The pupa inside is quite active and can be felt moving about within the cocoon if it's handled. Based on the foregoing criteria – size, overwintering amidst the forest floor trash, and active pupa – I'm guessing and hoping that this is a Luna Moth and with a little luck will be able to witness and photograph the emergence of the adult.