"This morning, the sun endures past dawn. I realise that it is August: the summer's last stand."
― Sara Baume
How did it get to be mid-August already?
This past weekend's weather was far more tolerable for insecting in the jungle that is the Pheasant Branch Creek Corridor. I avoided going outdoors the weekend prior because it was unbearably hot and humid, and there were tons of mosquitoes. Though it's been awhile since I've seen them, Peacock Flies Callopistromyia annulipes were patrolling the new bridge railings in ample numbers on Saturday. Tiny as a grain of rice, it's astonishing Nature can pack all that detail and attitude into something so small.
Despite their small size, usually around 4-5 millimeters, this fly captivates the eye with its iridescent, peacock-like colors that shimmer in the sunlight. The metallic blue and green hues of its body, coupled with the intricate black and transparent patterns on its wings, make it one of the most visually stunning insects you'll encounter. Most commonly observed near decaying wood or compost, their wing patterns serve a crucial role in camouflage, allowing it to blend into the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. These patterns can also play a part in communication and mating displays, though much about their behavior remains a mystery.
Hours earlier, the sun was just breaking into the jungle, so it was rather dark in the understory. Even so, there were critters to find and photograph, like this Flatormenis Leafhopper ...
They're fairly disturbance-tolerant, so you can move a branch to get better composition without having them make an escape hop.
A hopper of any sort is nice, but the search went on ...
A Feather-winged Fly above, and a Cicada below ...
Kinda cute, aren't they? In case you're wondering, the Cicadapocalypse didn't quite materialize in southern Wisconsin, but it kind of did in a limited way in other parts of the US. Still, the prognostications of trillions of cicadas inundating the country this summer were markedly overblown. During spring, some people asked if I thought there would be an ecological event of apocalyptic proportions―akin to a biblical plague where the sheer volume of cicadas would obscure the sun, their collective soundwaves inducing neurological distress, adding major defoliation and crop failures spurring a national crisis. I advised them that they would likely only notice cicadas this summer because of all the media hype. And, well, it turned out pretty much to be like any other summer, at least here.
A Cabbage White Butterfly still at rest from the night ...
And I was specifically looking for one of these bugs―a Two-horned Treehopper ...
Astonishingly, this the only treehopper I found during this bug hunt.
Some wildflowers along the creek corridor ...
Can you identify them? They're pretty common ones.
This time of year, it’s not uncommon for me to stumble upon a treefrog while searching for insects, and today’s find was a classic example. Perched on a broad leaf, the Eastern Gray Treefrog had shifted to its green tone, blending effortlessly with the surrounding vegetation. This color change is a common trait, allowing the frog to stay well-camouflaged among the leaves. I snapped a quick photo for my blog, appreciating how perfectly it exemplified the typical appearance of these adaptable little amphibians. It’s moments like these that highlight the quiet beauty and fascinating behavior of the creatures that often go unnoticed in the wild. Perhaps my eyes will be the only human ones ever to gaze upon it.
This leaf, now showcasing a vibrant array of yellow, red, and orange, is a clear sign that fall isn't far away. Its changing colors result from the breakdown of chlorophyll and the unveiling of other pigments as photosynthesis slows down. This natural process not only marks the coming end of summer, but also reveals the hidden hues that contribute to autumn's stunning display. It’s a perfect way to end today’s exploration, celebrating the intricate and colorful changes that occur in Nature’s cycle.
All images © 2024 Mike McDowell