2 for 1: Wednesday Wild Flower + Pollinator of the Week

Two for the price of one: Purple Peavine & Greenish Blue

Purple Peavine, aka Purple Vetchling, Veiny Pea (Lathyrus venous), stretches across North America to just barely make it into central Alberta, but I'm glad it does. A relative of the domesticated Sweet Pea (Lathyrus odorous), but without the selection for large and fragrant flowers, it still makes a fine wildflower.  Disjunct populations also occur on the West Coast; so perhaps, some earlier inhabitants of Alberta also liked these peas and took them with them on their wanderings.

Greenish Blue Plebejus saepiolus from above

The Greenish Blue (Plebejus saepiolus) is just one of the bewildering diversity of tiny 'Blues' that occur in Alberta including the Spring Azure, Western Tailed-Blue, Silvery Blue, Arctic Blue, Rustic Blue, Northern Blue, Acmon Blue, and so on. Every now and then we see enough characters to be reasonably sure of identity, but not often.

Mystery Blue

The caterpillars of the Greenish Blue feed on clovers (Trifolium spp.). Since Alberta has no native species of clover (the closest 'native' species occur in Montana and British Columbia), I suppose that means we owe our Greenish Blues to introduced, 'weedy' clovers. Most true clovers aren't really very weedy, but several are important crops and all a good source of nectar and pollen for bees and other pollinators. So, I prefer to think of clovers as nascent Albertans.

Red Clover - not a 'native'

Myco Monday: False Tinder Conk

False Tinder Conk pokes its nose through a Sunburst of Lichens

This picture shows the trunk of a living aspen (Populus tremuloides) hosting a diversity of ectocommensal Sunburst Lichens and a heart rot.

Xanthomendoza cf fallax

The lichens are members of the genera Xanthoria and/or Xanthomendoza - the latter recently removed from the former - and get their name for an obvious reason. The endoparasitic heart-rot fungus (Phellinus tremulae) is only showing its 'nose' or conk - a woody structure composed of an array of downward pointing tubes that release spores and an upper 'crust'. Presumably the False Tinder Conk is no good for making tinder, but it does make aspen poor neighbours - likely to break and fall on your head in a strong wind.


In Australia, whenever I asked about a 'conk', people would look at me like I'd just kicked a bucket. Apparently, its use for the fruiting bodies of woody polypores is a strictly North American thing. 'Conk' also is slang for a nose or sounds similar to a 'punch on the nose', but derives from  the Greek for a mussel shell (and our word 'conch'). Conks do bear a vague resemblance to both a nose and a mussel shell, and if one of these infested trees broke and landed on your head, the least of your worries would be being conked out.

Friday Bug: A Damsel in distress?

Damsel Bug (Nabis) lurking on Echinacea

I've always wondered why members of the family of rather small and innocuous predatory bugs are called Damsel Bugs (Nabidae). 'Damsel', according to the OED, comes to us as a "Proto-Gallo-Romance dim[inuative] of L[atin] domina lady: see DAME". In the past, a damsel was a young unmarried woman of noble birth, but now a damsel gets by as a literary, archaic, or jocular reference ('damsel in distress'). To me, 'damsel' usually congers up an image of a young woman in a flowing gown, a peaked hat, and wispy veils. Of course, at least half of all damsel bugs are dames, but both their implied nobility and fragility escape me.

Female Lestes cf disjunctus - a damselfly

Pierre André Latreille named the type genus of the Nabidae, Nabis, in 1802. However, rather than resolving the origin of 'damsel bugs', this simply adds to the confusion. The last king of Sparta was a Nabis: interesting, but unilluminating. Also, a group of French post-impressionists who followed the ideas of Paul Gaugin (born in 1848) called themselves 'Les Nabis' - from the word for 'prophet' in Hebrew. Unfortunately, 'Prophet Bugs' they are not (and it would indeed have been prophetical if Latrielle had named his bugs for the painters). 'Nabis' is Latin for a giraffe, but calling these small, short-necked bugs 'Giraffe Bugs' would be stranger still.

Male Lestes congener perhaps confused by his common name

In contrast to Damsel Bugs, Damselflies do have a rather whispy and delicate nature that seems not at all  odds with their common name. Others may disagree (e.g. John Acorn calls them 'flying neon toothpicks') and the origin of generic names does tend to emphasize habits not generally attributed to damsels. The Spread Wing damselfly genus Lestes, for example, comes from the Greek for a pirate or plunderer; the Eurasian Bluets genus Coenagrion appears to be from the Greek for 'common' and 'fierce' (one suspects that mosquitoes must view damselflies in just such terms). Oh well, not all etymological exercises will bear fruit. I think I'll just appreciate their beauty and wait longingly for Spring.

Wild Flower Wednesday: Golden Fumitory

Corydalis aurea - a fumitory

Alberta's two species of fumitory (Fumariaceae), Corydalis aura (Golden Corydalis) and C. sempervirens (Pink Corydalis), are attractive if ephemeral delights. Unlike the 'perennial' commercial varieties, both Alberta natives are biennials. 'Corydalis' is from the Greek for a lark - usually credited to the Crested Lark. 'Cory' also means 'helmet', so the bird name probably derives from the prominent crest and the fancied resembles of the flower to the lark's head, well, from fancy.

Golden Lark's Head anyone?

Golden Corydalis is easy to miss in its first year, but the fern-like leaves are attractive. I suspect that 'fumitory' comes from the fancied resemblance of of the finely divided, greyish green leaves of the related Earth Smoke (Fumaria officials) to smoke, but Wikipedia claims the origin of the name is uncertain. Since Pink Corydalis is common after wildfires, perhaps the 'fume' refers to a similar habitat preference in Fumaria. The 'perennial' commercial species have larger and more showy flowers, and the pale blue varieties are especially attractive, but we've had no luck with ours surviving the Zone 3 winters.

Myco Monday: Just another Russula

Russula, possibly emetica

Mushrooms of the genus Russula are relatively easy to identify by their brittle bodies - the stems will snap like a piece of chalk. I suppose that used to be a good character when most people had experience with chalk, but I wonder if so now? Alas, although easy to id to genus, species identification is very difficult, some cause gastrointestinal upset, and some taste very bitter or acrid. Given the poor reputation of most species as an edible (e.g. to quote David Aurora: 'better kicked than picked', 'better punted than hunted', 'better trampled than sampled' etc. or 'Unequivocally inedible and possibly poisonous'), I suppose it is best to leave these to adorn the yard.

I think this mushroom is part of the Russula emetica complex, because of its red, peeling cap, and its mycorrhizal association with the roots of the White Spruce in the front yard. If I needed an emetic, I suppose I might be tempted to try it, but I think I will restrict myself to appreciating its colourful and reliable appearance.

Australian of the Week: Blue-eyed Nymph

Blue-eyed Lacewing from Brisbane

As I was contemplating the dreary grey and white morning, and thinking of blow flies, I realized that I hadn’t had an Australian of the Week posting for quite some time. That series was designed to take me away from winter for a moment, and such a moment is now needed. So, herein I present an oldie but goodie: Nymphes myrmeleonoides Leach, 1814, the type species of the family Nymphidae. The original picture was taken with an old-fashioned SLR camera and captured on a material called ‘colour-slide film’, so this is really a bit of nostalgia. The original slide was digitized on an ancient scanner, so the transfer isn’t the best, but will have to do.

Hatched eggs of Nymphes in 'horseshoe' array 

Nymphes appears to be from the French for ‘nymph’, one of those delightful spirits that animate Nature. And these large, antlion-like nerve-winged insects (Neuroptera) are rather delightful. Nymphes eggs are one of the mysteries that I encountered when I first arrived in Queensland – horseshoe arrays of small white blobs on threads. At first I thought they were fungi, but once I saw the tiny gremlins that hatched out of them, I had a better idea. Alas, we have only another old, scanned slide of hatched eggs to offer, but Tony Knight at the Australian Museum has better pictures on offer.

Golden-eyed Chrysoperla chi

 In Alberta, we have no Blue-eyed Lacewings, but we do have a number (four genera, 9 species) of Green Lacewings (Chrysopidae) that often have delightfully golden eyes. Their larvae aren’t as gremlinish as those of Nymphes or antlions, but have their own bug geeky attractiveness.

Aphid lion - larvae of Green Lacewing

 Members of the Nymphidae currently appear to be restricted to Australia, New Guinea, and Lord Howe Island, but in the Jurassic ranged across most of the World. In the early Eocene, a Nymphes apparently lived in North America (Archibald et al. 2009). Alas, no more.

Chrysoperla oculata

 References:

Archibald SB, Makarin VN & J Ansorge. 2009. New fossil species of Nymphidae (Neuroptera) from the Eocene of North America and Europe. Zootaxa 2157: 59-68.

http://www.mapress.com/zootaxa/2009/f/zt02157p068.pdf

Garland JA & DK Mce Kevin. 2007. Chrysopidae of Canada and Alaska (Insecta, Neuroptera): revised checklist, new and noteworthy records, and geo-referenced localities. Zootaxa 1486:  1-84.

http://www.mapress.com/zootaxa/2007f/zt01486p084.pdf

Friday Bug: Smokey-winged Poplar Aphid.

Chaitophorus  populicola + appreciative flower fly larva

The Smokey-winged Poplar Aphid (Chaitophorus cf populicola Thomas, 1878) has appeared on the Home Bug Garden before under another common name - the Speckled Poplar Aphid - as part of a long post on the rather poor care they receive from their tending black ants. However, they are attractive enough for a Friday Bug and this picture shows what looks like a different kind of syrphid larva feasting away. Perhaps the prevalence of predators of aspen aphids explains why Ives & Wong (1988. Tree and shrub insects of the prairie provinces. Northern Forestry Centre Information Report NOR-X-292) report that none are serious pests except in ornamental plantings. So, unless you have an aspen in your yard (not recommended because the roots seek out water mains), you are free to enjoy this non-pest pest.