Hordnia Atropunctata, Blue-Green Leafhopper

Day 236: A garden pest, (formerly, now Hordnia) Graphocephala atropunctata is commonly known as the Blue-Green Leafhopper or Blue-Green Sharpshooter. I discovered the relevance of the latter name when I sprayed them with insecticidal soap. They popped off the leaves like seeds from a dry silique, "shooting" several feet from the plant. Considering that the majority of them were on my "Red Lake" currants and only a few had migrated to the gooseberries, I think it's safe to assume that their eggs were on the stems of the currants and only hatched recently. I hadn't noticed any nymphs, but now I know to keep a closer watch. The spread of insects and diseases from "big box store" plants is becoming more prevalent as inspection standards are relaxed for species imported from other states. The guidelines are still there (the "laws," if you will), but the sheer bulk of vegetables, flowers and shrubs makes it impractical to inspect each incoming plant. We all know it's about economics, don't we? There will be more dollars in the pockets of growers and inspectors if the burden of control is shifted to the individual gardener. What a warped world this is!

Footnote: the taxonomists got me again. This critter was moved to Hordnia, and is now Hordnia atropunctata.

Gregor Samsa Revisited

 Day 259 (Part B): Team Biota's finds are not limited to vascular plants, lichens and the occasional Fungus Of Worldwide Concern. We're searching for the rare and odd in Nature, regardless of species; case in point: this Cicada chrysalis, a discovery which put me immediately in mind of Franz Kafka's "Metamorphosis" and protagonist Gregor Samsa who woke one morning to find himself transformed into a "hideous vermin" (interpreted by many translators to mean a giant bug).

I had not known we had Cicadas in Washington until we found this abandoned husk, although in hindsight, I realize now that I've heard them as a nearly constant background sound on many hikes. Often referred to as "periodic," our local version has a life cycle of four or more years, with much of that spent in the nymphal stage. The adult female uses her ovipositor to pierce a twig where she lays her eggs. The eggs hatch into nymphs, dropping to the ground where they will spend their next several years of life in the soil. As the nymph reaches adulthood, it emerges from the soil to climb a tree, where it then emerges as a fully-winged adult, leaving behind its exoskeleton. The adult does not feed. It lives only to mate, and thus the cycle begins again, Cicadas buzzing in the trees, humming to hikers on the trail.

Guest Of Dishonor

Day 254: The Guest of Dishonor at today's All-Park Safety Meeting and Employee Orientation was Monochamus scutellatus, the White-Spotted Sawyer, a notorious predator of spruce and pine forests. I knew it only as a long-horned beetle of some type, so requested expert help in making an identification. I don't "do" insects. It's hard enough to manage wildflowers and specific families of lichen, so when something like this chap shows up, I turn to someone with the proper skill set, someone who is as passionate about their field as I am about mine. Knowledge is the common currency among naturalists, and for the most part, it passes freely between disciplines to contribute to a greater comprehension of the whole. The search for knowledge drives us; the sharing of that knowledge is equally compulsive. Feed us, and we will grow. Turn us on, and you may find that we don't have an "off" switch, but it is all a part of our enthusiasm for the natural world.