On the Trails of IES

Trail Report for Aug 8, 2007

84°F, partly cloudy and windy at 1:30 PM.
This was a walk even quieter than the last - but still, it had its moments.
On an earlier evening, there was an informal Moth Night, Moth Moot, Moth Ball, however you may wish to call it.

The two competing moth baits attracted little more than earwigs and daddy longlegs.
Lights, which with a near full moon I predicted would be useless, were productive indeed, bringing in about 5 moths and 10 people.
Our first find was the exquisite clymene moth, in the tiger moth family with the well known wooly bear.
More recognizable as a tiger moth was the salt marsh moth whose orange body and hindwings were reflected by the glass it was on.
The females of some moths are wingless, but this was too big I thought.
Rather, it was something that had just emerged from its pupa! Within half an hour its wings had expanded and was recognizable as a spotted prominent.
Hidden in a corner was Hübner's pero - with its curiously pleated wings of lavendar and brown.
The Peterson Guide doesn't have a common name for Polygrammodes flavidalis, but does say that its larva bores into the root of ironweed - which suggests a name to me, but "ironweed borer" is already taken!
And by this hour I didn't even try to ID the little one on the right.

The lotus budding last time in the Gifford Gardens had flowered and was developing its equally interesting seed pod.
Little ripples from the other side of the pool called attention to a life and death drama - a blister beetle had fallen in and the goldfish were rushing to answer the call.
By the time the camera crew arrived the victim had succeeded in climbing out onto stalks of elephant ear.
The goldfish... well, they circled a while. And I wondered about the interaction that didn't occur. Blister beetles are so called for their ability to produce an irritating fluid when disturbed.
In other drama, a fallen tree was across the Sedge Meadow Trail. With just a little sweat it was dealt with.
The Wappinger Creek Trail presented views to suit the tastes of everyone from the artist to the angler.
In the Old Gravel Pit, a late season northern pearly-eye still lurked, ready to pounce on the unwary passerby.