Humans and a few of the great apes are supposed to be the only creatures that smile, but anyone who has ever owned a dog knows this is not so. Dogs do manage a silly embarrassed kind of smile on occasion. The physical mechanics and psychological causes behind a canine grin are not the same as those leading to our simian mouth curve, but to the human eye it looks like a real smile.

  Most animals can’t smile. They don’t have the wide range of facial muscles to co-ordinate such a thing.  They also don’t have the need to. The facial abilities of man’s best friend are tied into their social interaction style and body language communication. Even if they could, cats would never choose to smile. The thought of a real chickadee or an actual manatee cracking a grin is a little freaky. Adult mayflies have no mouth, so…you get the point.

  In this age of digital morphing and enhancement pictures of smiling animals are commonplace. Happy mouth features on cartoon animals help us to tell the difference between the “bad” animals and the “good” or “sad” ones. As a cartoonist of long standing, I certainly understand this. When animals talk they need expressive, if unnatural, mouth shaping abilities. Aside from smiling dog pictures, we immediately know all these images aren’t real.

  All of this pontification leads me to the picture (see above) of a smiling squirrel. This is one of the members of the Red Squirrel family that was reared in one of my backyard trees.  These little guys show themselves on regular occasion and often allow me to take a few shots before dashing off.  Squirrels are one of those animals that look natural with a smile, but they don’t naturally have one.

  I cannot deny it.  This one apparently smiled for the camera. I didn’t realize it until I reviewed my shots afterward. For all I know, the diminutive creature may have winked as well, but my shutter didn’t capture it. I did absolutely nothing to alter the image because I absolutely don’t know how to do such a thing (just ask any of my kids).

  For this Naturespeak entry, I will let the photospeak do the work.

  Male Red-winged Blackbirds are dedicated defenders of truth, justice, and the wetland way. They immediately get in your face if you happen to trespass into their territory and assail you with a barrage of foul language, gestures, and an occasional peck on the head.  These guys have “chutzpa” – or what ever it is called when testicular fortitude is involved.  

  These black and red birds are aggressive enough when defending their borders from others of their own kind. Each male has several females to watch over. It’s their part of the mating deal to ensure a predator and rival free patch of marsh supplied with an abundant amount of insect food. These dynamos, however, will tackle any size or species of opponent with equal vigor when in the service of their instincts.

  Bald Eagles circle helplessly, Robins scream frantically, and Cardinals do a whole lot of crest erecting when their nests are threatened, but that’s about it.  These birds pale when compared to the black bombers of the bird world.  Red-wings are not afraid to make contact. I have frequently been pecked on the top of the head by a male red-wing after a series of low fast dives failed to drive me off.  The same treatment is delivered upon cats, raccoons, mink, herons, deer, and whoever else fails to heed the verbal warnings. The anxious bird pictured above is ready to spring into action – you can almost see the “bring it on” look in his eyes.

  By definition, a territory is a defended space. Some species chose to protect only a small territory around their nest, even though they make use of a much larger area. In the ornithological world, the owner of a territory has a major advantage over his opponents – the mental high ground, so to speak. William Terres, author of a major encyclopedia of birdlife, goes on to state that a bird is “virtually invincible in his territory.” Red-wings choose to extend their invincibility into the air column above their land space with cock-sure panache (how about those fancy words, eh?).

  Among the many curse words utilized by male Red-winged Blackbirds, a penetrating short whistle call (sounding like “Tee-ooooo”) indicates an aerial intruder has been spotted. Where lesser fowl would cower in the underbrush, the “wings” take to the air in order to escort the threat through their national airspace. Crows, hawks, ospreys, and vultures are all attacked. It is a common early summer sight to see a high-flying Turkey Vulture harassed by one or two Red-wings (see a great shot here and here). The defending birds rise up into the air after the intruder like metal fragments attracted to a large black magnet. They drop off after performing a short aggressive escort service (something like those guys guarding Cloud City in The Empire Strikes Back– sort of).

  Oddly enough, these larger birds usually make no aggressive response against their pesky attackers although they are amply equipped to do so. That adage about the psychological advantage of the territory holder over the invader is a powerful force of nature– even though claiming air space as territory is a bit of a stretch. I saw a Red-tailed Hawk perform a nifty” roll-over and grab” maneuver against a blackbird once, but the action was executed more out of frustration than any sincere attempt to kill his tormentor. 

  In the end, most of these aerial trespassers pose no real threat to the blackbird or his family.  Vultures are scavengers, Red-tails don’t rob nests, and Ospreys eat fish. Crows are a major threat since they are always on the hunt for eggs and nestlings.  Any large dark bird, therefore, is immediately categorized as a crow just to keep things on the safe side.

  All of this bravado ceases dramatically at the end of the nesting season in mid-July. Secure in the knowledge that they have done their manly duty, the Red-wing males kick back for the rest of the summer.

  You know about the “bird in hand” thing already, so you shouldn’t be surprised that I am here holding yet another dead one up to your face.  This window killed Great Crested Flycatcher will give us a chance to appreciate a feature that is hard to see on one – or even two – in the bush. The business end of this species, the wide powerful beak, is lined with whiskers. Since birds can’t have real whiskers, the question comes up as to what these things really are. While we’re at it, let’s discuss why they have them as well.

  First, let’s look at the general features of this large flycatcher. True to their name, their grey head is topped with a low crest – more of a cone-head actually. The belly is a nice light yellow (see here) and the back is greenish gray with touches of cinnamon on the wing and tail feathers (see here).  The Great-Crested is a woodland bird that prefers the rarified air of the high tree tops. It is heard more often than seen – issuing explosive “wheep-wheep-we-ep” calls at arbitrary times from above the leaf cover.

  As a member of a group of birds called the Tyrant flycatchers, or kingly flycatchers, these birds are primarily insect eaters.  They feed by flying out from a lofty perch in a series of short sorties much like a fighter jet on a mission. Their on-board weapon is a wide triangular beak that audibly snaps shut on its prey like a miniature steel trap. This gets us back to the subject of that beak and those whiskers – or what-ever they are – that line it.

  Officially, these “whisker-like” structures are called rictal bristles (not rectal – rictal). It seems un-necessary to have a special anatomical name for the corner of a bird mouth, but there is one and it is called the rictus.  The vaneless and barbless feathers that line the rictus are therefore called rictal bristles, but similar feathers elsewhere on bird bodies (such as those on owl’s foot or around the eyes) are also given the same name.

  These simplified feathers form a fringe around the mouth that has led some to conclude that they function like a basket to trap near-miss prey. They do create a loose comb around the open mouth (see here). Others have concluded that they form a screen to protect the eyes from flying bug parts.

  Experiments on a similar species have dis-proven the bug net idea. Apparently, researchers cut off the bristles on several subjects and compared their insect catching efficiency to un-shaven birds. There was no difference what-so-ever. Because shaven birds ended up with a little more dust on their eyes, the possibility of eye protection remains a viable option. Since bugs are fiercely snapped in mid air, it is probable that many are “rent asunder” by the impact. Flying heads, legs or wings could be deflected away from the vulnerable eyes. Human Motorcyclists that know what it is like to be struck by an insect at 65 mph can empathize with a flycatcher deliberately targeting the insects at 20 mph or so.

  Perhaps the most remarkable thing about these “whiskers” is that they may indeed function something like real whiskers. There are sensory corpuscles at the base of each bristle that transfer touch information. Whether these creatures can use this information like a mammal uses whiskers has yet to be determined.

  There is one other unanswered question that surrounds the Great-Crested Flycatcher. They are cavity nesting birds that habitually line their nests with snake skins. There doesn’t appear to be any reason for doing this since it does little to deter nest robbing predators. In today’s junk littered landscape this flycatcher also makes use of wax paper and plastic wrappers, so it is likely that they just have a textural decorating thing going.

  Because squirrels are endowed with peanut sized brains, walnuts are given a crack at life. Squirrels, you see, have limited memories. They don’t remember where they put all their autumn buried nuts and therefore don’t eat them all during the winter. These forgotten nuts are enabled to sprout and make their bid for treedom when spring rolls around. It is believed that most walnut trees get their start this way.

  Sometime last autumn my local A.D. D. Fox Squirrel decided to bury one of his precious walnuts right next to my house foundation and then promptly wiped its location from his memory banks. I discovered the resulting tree sprout a few days ago when trimming around the yard. Unfortunately I had to pull up the ill-placed plant, but saw in its demise an opportunity to talk a bit about tree nuts and germination. Your parents probably never got around to giving you the germination talk did they? Well, it’s high time we got to it.

  Take a look at the graphic photo above, and you’ll see the young walnut sprout with its dirty nut still attached. Unlike many plants that actually lift their seeds up into the air when they sprout (like bean sprouts), walnuts leave their nuts in the ground.  They are hypogeal germinators. This means that they leave their nuts in the ground -which is what I just told you. What I didn’t tell you is that the inside of the nut – the nut meats – are actually called cotyledons (see here this pinkish heart-shaped structure). The cotyledons provide support for the formation of the main root and the sprout.  In this type of germinator the cotyledons are power supply to get things going.

  The root, or radicle, busts out of the shell and immediately seeks a downward direction. These cells are wired with a gravity-oriented component that guarantees their mission success. The tap root (see here in broken form) grows deep into the soil and acts as an anchor and feed line for the new tree. Walnuts are able to establish an extremely long tap root in a short order of time. 

  The other growth coming out of the split nutshell, next to the radicle, is called the epicotyl. This is the part that seeks to fight the forces of gravity as a heaven bound leafy sprout. The sprout generates leaves and the leaves start the photosynthetic process. Walnut seedlings are often able to achieve over 36 inches of new growth within a few months and even more during their second year.

  Now, I understand that knowing all of this may not change your life in any significant manner, but it might be a cause for poetic pause next time you see a seedling walnut. Repeat after me: “A squirrel’s nut forgotten is a Walnut tree begotten”.  Aren’t you glad we had this little talk?

  The Green Darner is a creature that defines the color green. Not that their maroon is anything to sneeze at, but one look at the deep emerald shade of the thorax is enough to confirm just how appropriate the species name really is. The marbled translucence is gem-like in quality. It is fitting that these three inch long dragonflies, the largest in Michigan, happen to be a prominent part of this very green month of June.

  Scientifically they are known as Anax junius. This name is a combination of the Greek word for “Master” or “Lord” and the Latin for the month of June (I think you can figure out which is which).  Historically, and hysterically, they have long been known as Devil’s Darning Needles and Snake Doctors. As darning needles in the service of Satan, they were supposed to have the ability to sew your lips shut. I admit, the devil association aside, I have encountered more than a few people over the years who might have been good candidates for such a treatment (but my lips are sealed on this matter). Fortunately only the darning needle part has stuck. Their long slender bodies do have the appearance of a sock-darning needle, kinda – if you get rid of the wings, the eyes and the legs and… , well, never mind.

  This precious stone of an insect only lives for a month or so as an adult.  The individual pictured above is a female freshly emerged as an adult only 24 hours before this shot was taken. Equipped with strong transparent wings, up to 4.5 inches in span (see here), huge compound eyes, and a set of six hairy legs this creature earns the title of Mosquito Hawk. They are very adept at capturing these pesky creatures- which have been proven to work for Lucifer, by the way.

  Darners have the ability to fly vertically, horizontally, and backwards as well as the strength to propel forward at speeds in excess of 18 mph. One website quotes a figure of 53 mph as the top speed, but something about that doesn’t sound right (at that speed I believe they would be turned into darning needles as all their appendages would rip off from wind shear!). If I am wrong on this point, please let me know so that I can sew my lips shut for a few days.

  The large eyes which envelope the head are aggregations of thousands of simple eyes.  The point of view of a dragonfly is nearly 360 degrees and they can pick up the motion of flying prey coming from any direction. I remember reading somewhere that the downward facing eye columns are employed as air speed indicators (judging relative position of ground items as they pass by). I think it was in a comic book, but I’m not sure. I do know that there are backward facing eye columns that detect movement from behind when the animal’s face is pointed foreword. The only other place where this latter trait is found in nature is on those of us who are teachers and/or parents.

  Mosquitoes and other prey are scooped up in a hairy basket created by the legs (see here) and often eaten on the wing. Another website, this one more believable than the first, contains a brief account of a Darner actually nabbing a hummingbird. A bunch of birders who witnessed the incident shooed the dragonfly off as the pair tumbled to earth. Who knows what would have transpired had not those pesky birders interfered?

  Green Darners do not come from humble roots. The Juno of the summer sky comes from the Kracken of the spring waters. As children they are pale dun colored killers. The aquatic nymphs are large creatures (see here and here) that need to spend several years lurking in quiet ponds until they attain their final size. These mini-predators have two mouths. One mouth is located where it should be – under the face.  The other one is located at the end of an extendable arm, called a labium, that is tucked away under the head. By extending the “arm mouth”- in alien fashion -the nymph can latch onto tadpoles, larval fish, and other insects (see here). 

  Aside from eating the occasional hummingbird (maybe!) the adults seem to have a taste for honeybees and can be a pest around commercial hives. This is a small price to pay, however, for having such a beautiful and beneficial insect around.

“In Lupine fields of blue I tread

Where sun and Viceroy rule,

And Meadowhawks with Robber flies

Engage in ancient duel.

  There’s something about a walk through a sunny meadow that inspires bad verse. When that meadow is flush with blooming wild lupines, as was an open glade at the Petersburg Game Area, the inspired verse is bound to be Nitrogen enriched. Petersburg is located in the sandy region of western Monroe County and is one of the few regions in the state where the Lupine thrives.

  Lupines are members of the legume family – a group known as the Fabaceae or bean family. (Supermodel Fabio is a human bean, so one could conclude that he too must be in this family- yes? No.)  Legumes are known for their ability to fix Nitrogen from the atmosphere and enrich the soil and thus my verse-enrichment comment.

  I have no excuse for the Fabio comment except that lupines are supermodels of the flower world.  These fantastic plants bloom in upright spikes with dozens of flowers each. Individually (see here), the flowers look like tiny bonnets and are very much like garden pea flowers. The lower two petals envelop the delicate floral structures (the reproductive parts) like a pair of cupped hands. A light downward pressure, such as applied by a landing bee, exposes the pistil and stamens for pollination (see here).

  These lupines sprang forth due to the encouragement rendered by an earlier controlled burn at the site. Periodic fires are employed by the MDNR to control the woody vegetation and return the place to something closer to its native Oak opening condition. The mid-spring meadow that flourishes in these ashes is also host to Wild Strawberries, Pearly Everlasting, Salsify, and native grasses.  Mid-day in that mid-spring meadow is a butterfly, dragonfly and robber fly paradise.    

  Meadowhawks were the predominate dragonflies but several butterfly species were active in the sunny glade. A newly minted Viceroy allowed herself to be photographed and then carefully plucked from her perch for an underwing portrait.  Nearby, an American Copper flashed some colors and along the shady edge a Little Wood Satyr danced in the dappled sunlight.

  Painted Ladies were present on this day also, but only in larval form on Pussytoes.  To find them, I had to bend down low to investigate one of the Pearly Everlasting (a.k.a. Pussytoe) patches. The growing caterpillars weave several leaves together to form a protective chamber (like this) where they can eat away at the “Toes” in relative safety. Most of the chambers were empty but one did contain a spiny Painted Lady larva that squinted as it was exposed to the bright sunlight.

  One butterfly not in evidence in the Lupine patch was a tiny butterfly called the Karner Blue. It used to be found there but disappeared sometime in the 1980’s. This tiny species is a federally endangered insect that depends upon the wild Lupine for its existence. The larvae feed solely on this plant.

  Researchers are looking to re-introduce the Karner Blue to its old haunts once the food plants are dense enough to support a new colony. Until that time, we’ll have to be satisfied with this incredible piece of meadow without its extra shade of blue.

   On a recent chilly morning with temperatures hovering in the middle 50’s, I came upon 10 sunning Painted Turtles. I guess you could call such an assemblage a herd or even a flock of turtles. I think a shellage might be a better term – or how about a palette. Yes, a palette of Painted Turtles sounds nice. Anyway, this particular palette of painters was participating in the pursuit of power: solar power.

  Like all cold blooded creatures they require the warmth of a star some 93 million miles away to jump start their internal engines.  Painted Turtles are well adapted to northern climes. They hibernate through most of the winter, but will swim under the ice on occasion and are able to get around on very cold early spring days. A 50-some degree day is relatively warm for such a beast. On this day, the turtles were drawn to an open spot in the marsh where they could take full advantage of old Sol. Each was hauled out onto a pad of cat-tail roots or a clump of low vegetation. What was fascinating, in terms of this discussion, was that all of them had oriented their shell surface in the same direction and all were positioned at about the same angle.

  It is no surprise that their shells were oriented toward the low southern sun (see here). They chose the mid-morning period just as the golden rays were peeking over the shadows cast by the cat-tail tops. The fact that they were oriented at the same angle was no coincidence, however. This angle was about 40 degrees.

  I know this not because I have an eye for angles – for I am not an angler (that was a joke). The skittish turtles, would not have allowed me to measure them either. No, this happens to be the golden angle for maximum solar absorption at our latitude (that was not a joke).

  Allow me to present another example of this natural solar knowledge. Wood Ants construct large angled nests out of soil particles (see here). These ants work together as a group to maintain their roof at an angle that picks up the heat from the low morning sun when they need it most. Since they can’t constantly adjust to the sun’s changing position, they instinctively choose the best general angle. I was able to measure this angle since ant hills don’t scurry away at the sight of humans. Sure enough, the angle was about 40 degrees with a southward orientation.

  When we peoplekind put up solar panels, we are generally instructed to place them so that they face south and have a “tilt about equal to your latitude.” Our local latitude is about 42 degrees from the equator, by the way. More specifically, the optimum angle recommended for our position on the earth is closer to 40 degrees during the spring and autumn. The summer angle is about 12 degrees lower.

  Summer conditions require a lower angle because the sun is higher in the sky. The turtles will oblige by lowering their shell angles to about 25 degrees when that time comes but the ants will be happy with what they have. I hope you’ll be happy knowing how energy smart turtles and ants really are.

  They issued from the tree cavity one by one and encircled the trunk in a general downward direction. Six brand new Red Squirrels tentatively made their way toward the ground 10 feet below to gather maple seeds. Moving in nervous spurts – as if driven by puffs of inner air – they constantly stopped to employ their keen senses toward predator detection. Arriving at the base, they extended their tiny bodies out only as far as absolutely necessary in order to snatch a winged seed from the ground with their mouths. Most kept their hind feet firmly in contact with the bark while venturing leech-like with their forequarters toward the intended prize.

  Seed in mouth, they retracted and scurried back to a horizontal location on a branch or root platform to perform a precise culinary dissection (see above). The seeds were dispatched with a few peeling bites to expose the green inner core and the dry wings were released to the breeze.

  These young squirrels were well on their way to independence but highly nervous about life in general. The shadow of a passing robin eventually sent them into a panic. All the adventurers swiftly retreated to the safety of the den hole where they remained for the rest of the afternoon.

  This litter of Reds had the good fortune to be born into a banner maple seed year. They will have the luxury of overstuffing on the nutritious meal stuff well before the supply runs out. Their efforts will have little or no impact on the maple crop. It is very likely that several seeds will go on to sprout and several squirrels will grow into obnoxious adults this year.

  Last year, the story would have been very different.  Many of last years squirrlets would have grown up without tasting a single maple seed because the entire seed crop failed. I tried to follow the course of the Red and Silver Maples from flower to seed last spring but found that an early cold spell nipped the production in the bud. These two species put out their seeds early in the season– a risky behavior during a cold spring. Other maples wait until fall to produce their precious packets of life. I literally found only a few dozen spring seeds that matured and spiraled to the ground.  Such was the case throughout the region. 

  Trees, like the Red and Silver maples, tend to be very resilient and follow bad years with incredibly productive ones like this one. To those of us who are homeowners that have to clean out our gutters and sweep off our driveways, this may not seem to be especially welcome news. But, I suggest you take a squirrel’s eye view of the situation and welcome the opportunity.

  Maple seeds are technically called “samaras” – another one of those Latin words which means “elm seed.”  This, of course, makes no sense but since elm seeds are winged, the term has come to refer to all seeds that have wings (and you don’t argue with dead Latin people). They, the seeds that is, are made to autogyrate their way to the ground via their stiff mono wings.

  The samaras start off as mismatched but conjoined pairs (see here) but upon maturing split up into independent travelers. The purpose of the wing is to slow down the seed descent enough so that the wind can transport it away from the parent tree. Landing directly under the tree will place you into a fatal shadow land where growth is impossible. It takes about a foot and a half of drop before the seeds re-orient themselves seed first and begin to spin (a fact I discovered after taking this ill fated art shot!). At this point in the fall, the wing is engaged (naturally designed at a perfect 3:1 ratio of length to width) at a 15 degree tilt and rotation begins. The fall is reduced to approximately 3 feet per second and the wind is given a chance to carry the seed away from the parent tree. 

  Most of the seeds don’t make it very far.  On the ground around the Red Squirrel maple, I counted an average density of 40 seeds per square foot!  Most -if not all -of the seeds will end up as sun-deprived seedlings, squirrel meal, or victims of a rotating steel blade.  I witnessed a few that fortuitously dropped during a stiff breeze, and these were carried up and out of sight. Maybe one or two of these will find soil and sanctuary.

  My little Red Squirrels could care less about such things, but they too will need to spread away from the home tree in order to survive. Their parents will drive them off just as the wind pushes samaras to distant locations. In the real world, an apple needs to fall far from the tree in order to have any chance at life.

  Killdeer chicks are among the cutest (can you say “Ka-Yoot!”) of all baby birds but they can’t rely solely on their leggy good looks to get them through early life.  They need to enter onto the world stage a step ahead of most other avian young because the world is already a step ahead of them. Their parents started them off in an exposed ground nest- a mere scrape in the soil surrounded by short grass or gravel.

  As eggs they were protected by a cryptically camouflaged egg pattern which made them virtually invisible. This vulnerable stage lasts for 24-28 days during which time the vigilant adult birds incubate and keep a watchful eye out for predators. Upon hatching, the chicks have another danger ridden month to go until they can fly.

  From the moment they exit the egg, the chicks are expected to get up and out of the nest scrape as soon as possible. They are precocial – a term which means they are ready from the get-go. In Latin, this word means something like “ripened beforehand” or “early maturing” (using the same root word used to describe a human youngster who is “precocious” and advanced beyond their years). Chickens, ducks, rails, and pheasants also have precocial young. These birdlets spend a long time ripening inside a relatively large egg and thus emerge with large heads, open eyes, strong legs and a full coat of downy fluff.  They can feed themselves soon after hatching.

  Precocial chicks are tough customers. One killdeer baby survived a seven story drop after it launched off the top of a gravel top roof where the nest was located. Wood Duck young routinely drop great distances from their tree hole nests and bounce harmlessly off the hard ground!

  Altricial birds, such as robins, are born helpless, blind, and naked.  Altricial means “to nourish” and such birds need to have food brought to them by a wet nurse, so to speak.  In theory, an altricial bird is about two weeks behind a precocial bird upon hatching. But, it is important to note that such birds also are brought up in secure locations and are in less immediate danger than the precocial sort.

  Even though killdeer chicks can locate their insect food on their own, they still need some degree of parental protection during the long pre-flight stage. I stumbled upon a group of newly hatched killdeer the other day and was delighted to see the adult bird gallantly going through her broken wing act in order to lure me away. The chicks scattered about (see here) while mom acted as a decoy. Three out of the four young scampered across the road and easily put distance between me and them. These chicks are endowed with disproportionately long legs and they can put them to use with great effect.

  The fourth chick, however, found itself somewhat cornered. It hesitated and couldn’t manage the end run before I closed the distance. At this point, it immediately employed another trick from the instinctual playbook – it stepped into a patch of slightly longer grass, crouched down, and froze into position.

  Like the eggs they came from, the chicks are cryptically colored. When fully pressed to the ground (like this) they are very hard to see. I was able to get this picture only because I saw exactly where this killdeer fawn stopped and dropped. I parted the grass in order to get a better shot and the bird remained motionless (see here).

  That ability to freeze and remain frozen is a crucial part of the plan. It resisted the urge to bolt even when I moved it slightly while moving one of the grass stems. The tiny bird performed the routine like a practiced pro even though it was only a few hours old.

  As an altricial human being, who was unable to do anything but cry when only a few hours old, I was impressed.

  The Purple Loosestrife is a beautiful flowering plant that hails from across the pond in Europe. As a garden plant, their slender magenta inflorescences add a special hue and a certain amount of verticality to the cultured garden-scape. Their long summer bloom time adds to their potential charm. After that glowing introduction, you’d think that the sight of a bunch of leaf hungry beetles reducing one of these plants to the vegetative equivalent of Swiss cheese would be a bad thing – a gardener’s nightmare. Truth is, the scene pictured above is a good thing.

  Like so many other garden plants, domestic Loosestrife escaped over the white picket fences and ran rampant over the landscape. By the mid 1990’s these aggressive aliens found their way into nearly every marsh in the Midwest. Lacking any New World pests, they were able to aggressively dominate and began to choke out the native flora and destroy wetland habitats. Many of our local marshes were reduced to pure plots of purple summer haze.

  The ‘strife was well on its way to becoming a grim ecological reaper of doom. It appeared that we mortals were powerless against it (Even Batman and Superman were rendered neutral in this affair). Thankfully, the solution finally came in the form of a 1/8^th inch beetle called the Gallarucella, or Loosestrife, Beetle (here, take a look see). Researchers spent the better part of the last decade divining what the natural homeland enemy of the Loosestrife was and came up with this humble little bug that ate ONLY Purple Loosestrife. It was crucial to establish that this critter would not turn to other plant species if it was going to be considered as a control agent. Gallarucella passed the test with flying colors.

  To make this long story short, the beetle was introduced throughout the Midwest. Many individuals, and institutions (mine included), participated in rearing beetle populations and releasing them into ‘strife infected environs.  The effort turned out to be very successful and the Purple plague was nipped in the bud.

  It has been many years since I released any beetles at Lake Erie Metropark. The beetles have taken over the situation on their own and require no more assistance from us – as the scene above illustrates.

  This time of year, the adult beetles are emerging from their pupas. They immediately assemble on the new Loosestrife shoots and begin eating holes into the leaves. Soon, the like minded, and well fed, beetles get together and mate. Eggs are laid, larvae are hatched, and feeding goes on. The larvae burrow into the growing shoot of the plant and eventually kill the new growth. By the time the next generation of beetles come out later in the summer, the weakened loosestrife are barely able to maintain their growth, leave alone attempt any flowering. They become stunted, malnourished and eventually die.

  The other part of this good news story is that the Loosestrife plants are not totally destroyed. They continue to hold on and sprout, but they do so as peasant villagers within the eco-system and not as conquering despots.  This insures that Loosestrife beetles will always have food resources in order to maintain their purple policing duties. In the near future, the gardener will be able to once again enjoy this plant as a domestic, but will need to keep it sprayed just like the other plants.

  It is time to pause and honor the power of the meek and mighty Gallarucella.