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Maggie Schwed

@mpschwed

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Pollinator Consultant @stonebarns. Author of Driving to the Bees, a book of poems @blacklawrencepress

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Yellow foxtail grass in a field proved to be exceptionally productive to observe. Tucked in around the seeds were aphids; attracted to the aphids were Aphidius sp. parasitoid wasps, some of which had already mummified a number of aphids. Also attracted to the aphids were syrphid hoverflies, which, in turn, attracted another parasitoid belonging to the Callaspidia genus. Because the number of seed heads had aphid mummies, I put one into each of five vials, two of which became active. First, 4 Aphidius wasps eclosed, mated, and oviposited into aphids. Nearly a week later, a different vial yielded 3 Asaphes wasps—hyperparasitoids of the Aphidius larvae inside the mummies. Because the vials no longer contained any live aphids, I thought the Asaphes, which had been mating at intervals all day, might need a little nectar facsimile. I provided a droplet of weak sugar water. Here you can see one of them exploring it and sipping. Very hard to capture on a cell phone – apologies for the quality. The female wasp may be full of sperm, but without live aphids, she has nowhere to reproduce. I think the cycle of insect around the foxtail has been concluded. by @mpschwed

This monarch caterpillar is huge, and still munching on largely withered milkweed in a field. Watched a while to see if parasitoid wasps were interested. Seemed OK. Chrysalis can only be days away! by @mpschwed

In a recent pollinator transect of a cool season grass pasture, insects were visible on a wide swathe of yellow foxtail, a bristly grass hated by farmers. Minute parasitoids whirled around the foxtail and landed on the bristles — magnification identified them as aphid wasps. A few days later, we returned to the site to see if we could spot any aphids: their green bodies proved to be well concealed among the seeds that bulged along the stalk of the seed head.

I put several seed heads into vials: some had aphid mummies (aphids which, parasitized by the wasps, swell up and turn tan, until the adult wasp emerges, cutting a circular hole in the body of the former aphid). I was curious to see what would emerge from the mummies. Four wasps eclosed from one seed head over the next 2 days. The first 2 wasps ignored the aphids; there must have been a male among the next two because when I added a fresh aphid to the vial, two females immediately began to oviposit into it.

Here you can see a typical foxtail seed head, the dramatis personae (wasp and aphid), and aphid mummies, as well as a transparent hoverfly larva (attracted to the aphids it will consume), and another parasitoid, one new to me: in the genus Callaspidia, also thought to parasitize hoverflies, as well as an Ichneumonid, another parasitoid of hoverfly larvae. Last of all, a video of the wasps parasitizing an aphid. Kind of grim. But I’m grateful to have seen the complex relationships taking place almost invisibly in the grass.

Virus-free.www.avast.com by @mpschwed

Papilio polyxenes, the black swallowtail…offered it a place to stand and it climbed aboard. Honored! by @mpschwed

Watch to the end to see this beautiful long-tailed giant ichneumon, Megarhyssa macrurus, detecting pigeon horntail larvae (Tremex columba) deep inside a dead beech with its antennae, and then the elaborate manipulation of its more than 3-inch-long ovipositor as it parasitizes one. Interesting how the wasp moves up and down the trunk, searching, zeroing in. The ovipositor, flexible but strong, is zinc tipped, capable of penetrating wood. by @mpschwed

Always one of my favorite sights in the garden: a little wool carder bee (Anthidium manicatum) stripping the fuzz from pussytoes and pearly everlasting. She compacts the fuzz into a little ball and holds it, either tucked between her legs or clasped in her mandibles, then zooms to her nest, hidden in some pre-existing cavity. by @mpschwed

This tree, formerly called Sophora japonica and now known as Styphnolobium japonicum (Japanese pagoda tree/Chinese scholar tree) went into the ground of the front pasture at Stone Barns in 2018, in memory of a friend of the farm. In the years when I was the beekeeper at the farm, I had begged for the tree, having learned it was a terrific resource for honey bees. It has had good years and lousy years – including a year when the deer rubbed their antlers against the slim trunk, nearly killing it. But this year it had an excellent bloom, and it has filled out to be a handsome tree, very popular with honey bees from our nearby apiary. This year, however, is the second time I have seen it hugely appreciated by the large and glamorous Megachile sculpturalis (the giant resin bee). The fourth image shows you the way Megachile species collect pollen on the underside of their abdomens. A few years ago, the resin bees were almost all male; this year they are almost all female. But what is interesting is that the tree is a non-native, haling from China and Japan – and so is the bee. Highly compatible. The other plant frequented by this bee around here is the perennial pea, Lathyrus latifolium, which is said to have been brought the the US in the 1700’s, originating in South America and East Africa…so the bee is a generalist. Non-natives indeed, but a valued part of the diversity. by @mpschwed

In a cool season grass meadow where a few flowers were blooming, a single Queen Anne’s lace was working overtime in attracting pollinators and some very unusual, to me, tiny parasitoid wasps. This is a Brachymeria genus—most of the species parasitize Lepidoptera larvae. The grasses were full of small moths, so perhaps that is what it was seeking, after taking a blast of nectar from the flower. What a great anatomy! by @mpschwed

On some roses in Bellport, Long Island a month or so ago, this tiny, gorgeous female parasitoid wasp, in the Megastigmus genus. Considered pests because their larvae feed on seeds (phytophagous: plant-eating), this species lays in rose hips; others in bean family plants, hollies, and witch hazel. Still others parasitize pistachios, pines, cypresses. Wikipedia says some species do parasitize insects, and some actually combine plant- and insect-eating. In addition to destroying the seed-bearing part of the plant, ending its capacity to reproduce, the larva and pupa are well concealed inside the fruit, making it hard to know if cuttings or even whole plants subject for commerce carry a destructive passenger. Still, a beauty. by @mpschwed

Greatly aided by a team of interns, I was scouring a cool-season grass meadow transect for pollinators, and found this glittering, tiny hyperparasitoid wasp, Euperilampus triangularis, on a clump of common milkweed. Not having seen one before, it was thrilling to see two, busily circling a plant that was being heavily nectared by three different species of bumblebee. One of the insects this burly little wasp parasitizes is the tachinid fly, one of which was observed circling the milkweed and bees, as well. The wasp has such a remarkable structure – it was not until I looked closely at a few of the photos that I could see the details. The photos aren’t great, but they will give you a chance to examine a small wasp you might not notice. by @mpschwed

Found this exquisitely wrapped tiny package yesterday in a planter. Have put it in an observation box to see what emerges. BUT what I want to ask everyone is: are you noticing a remarkable diminishment in the number of bees? The gardens are almost silent. Would welcome your observations and thoughts. by @mpschwed

Since the first days of April, I have been obsessed with oak gall wasps. A couple of days ago, I was very lucky to see this little parasitoid Torymus wasp in the act of parasitizing (by ovipositing) larvae laid inside a gall formed on a scarlet oak by an oak wasp called Callirhytis quercusoperator. I love how she really hunkers down into the fuzzy material of the gall to deliver her egg. The long straight black part is the sheath that covers her ovipositor, which projects more from her “belly” when she’s laying (you may be able to glimpse it if you zoom in on the last image). The gall is undoubtedly full of Callirhytis larvae— the Torymus wasps were busy on several of these galls, AND they were not the only parasitoids visiting! I’ll offer another video in my next post to show you that. Now, I just have to be very lucky in order to see how many different species emerge from the galls. I intend to leave them on the tree, but if I really can’t stand the suspense, I may take one in order not to miss the opportunity to observe. by @mpschwed