Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Okay, Let's Do This.

Insects! Let's do this chronologically, shall we? Starting in Edmonton:

A terrible photo, but still diagnostic of Common Ringlet.

I'm calling this one a Western White, based on the pattern on the
 forewing and the dark scaling visible on the hindwing. Closest alternative
would be Checkered White but that one has a cleaner hindwing.

Milbert's Tortoiseshell

Canadian Tiger Swallowtail, set apart from the other two practically
identical Tiger Swallowtails based entirely on range.

Four-spotted Skimmer; the wing details don't show well here, but the
way the abdomen looks kind of flat and shades towards black at the end
is pretty diagnostic too.

And now to Yellowknife:

Forest Tent Caterpillar; startlingly pretty for such a pest. Also far more
orange than I'm used to, but it's apparently still the same species.

Boreal Whiteface; the only other Whiteface in that area with that much red
 spotting down the abdomen is apparently the Hudsonian, which would not
have that final red spot on S8 (i.e., the abdominal segment third
from the end). Apparently it's also larger, but without seeing the
two of them side-by-side I find that harder to use as an ID feature.

Either a Northern or Boreal Bluet, apparently those two are practically
indistinguishable unless you look at very specific tiny features with a
hand lens. Which I obviously did not do. But my gut's leaning towards
Boreal based on what can be seen of the appendages at the end of the tail.

Mosaic Darners are the worst. This lovely thing? I have no idea what it
is because a) it's a female, and b) I couldn't get a clear shot of the
lateral stripes (i.e., a side view without the wings in the way).

Spear-marked Black Moth. Yep, it's a moth, even though it doesn't have
fuzzy antennae.

This one I think is the Hudsonian Whiteface, because the red spotting is a little
more discrete (more spots, less of a line) and stops one segment further up than
on the Boreal. Is it also smaller? Who knows!

Gruesome, but easy to photograph - and this one's a male, which helps. The
broad, notched thoracic stripes with the just-barely-visible pale spot between them
make this a Lake Darner. Honestly, the last one was probably also a
Lake but I'm just not confident enough to make that call.

Another Four-spotted Skimmer, so we can all admire the wing pattern.

Arctic Blue; this one was a pretty easy call based on the brownish tinges
and just the overall degree of white-ringed dark spotting.

Yet another Whiteface. Only the barest hint of red spots down the abdomen,
though, so given the location it's either a Canada or a Belted Whiteface. More info
needed to say for sure: the Canada apparently has a "creamy" white face as
opposed to the "chalk" white face of the Belted. Sure. And the Canada is smaller, but
we've already covered how useless that can be without something for scale.

I had this one pegged as a Silvery Blue at first, but I think now it's a Greenish
Blue. The spots are smaller, they're not really ringed in white the way they would
be on a Silvery, and there's a dark spot on the upper side (not shown here, but I
have it in another photo) that just really shouldn't be there on a Silvery.

American Emerald; plain dark abdomen with a single white ring, bright green
eyes, and bronze-green 'shoulders'.

Based on very limited information I called this one a Giant Sulphur at first, but
I think what we have here is actually a Palaeno Sulphur, aka a Moorland Clouded
Yellow. The key features are the complete lack of border on the white hindwing
spot, and the dusting of dark scales all over the hindwing underside.

Mourning Cloak

If you made it this far, I think I owe you a cookie.

Any Excuse For A Book

So the reason I've been delayed in finalizing the insect species from my recent trip is that all of my books are for eastern North America or the Great Lakes region… not terribly useful when trying to figure out species from the Northwest Territories.

Clearly what I needed to do was buy more books. Obviously.


The dragonfly book is the western equivalent of my beloved eastern go-to guide - the one with the excellent species comparisons - so it was an easy sell. I'll just have to take more western vacations and get my money's worth out of it. The butterfly book I'm going to have to sit with for a while and see if it's what I wanted it to be… it's an older book but came highly rated, I feel like it won't go astray.

Stay tuned!

Thursday, July 19, 2018

On The Photosynthetic Side Of Things….

Just to prove that there were indeed some plants on the tundra:

Wooly Lousewort (Pedicularis lanata)

Alpine Bearberry (Arctous alpina)

Alpine Sorrel (Oxyria digyna), with a bit of Arctic Bell-Heather (Cassiope 
tetragona) on the left side, not yet blooming 

Blackish Crazy-weed (Oxytropis nigrescens) and no I am not kidding with that name

Entireleaf Mountain-Avens (Dryas integrifolia)

Flat-top Whitlow-Grass (Draba corymbosa)

Edward's Eutrema (Eutrema edwardsii)… I think

Purple Saxifrage (Saxifraga oppositifolia)

Arctic Willow (Salix arctica)
Net-leaved Willow (Salix reticulata)

Summer Adventuring

This year's big adventure was a birding vacation that started in Edmonton, hopped up to Yellowknife, and ended in Cambridge Bay on Victoria Island. It's been fun being able to say that I went to the arctic to escape the southern Ontario heat wave… that may have been coincidence but it was a nice side-effect nonetheless.

The far north is a very interesting place; we tend to take trees for granted here in the south so it's a bit unsettling to suddenly be somewhere there are none. Spring was about two weeks late this year, apparently, which meant when we arrived there was still a lot of ice on the water and the ground was still brown and barren. If I have one disappointment about the trip, it's that I didn't get to see the carpet of colour that the tundra apparently turns into in the height of summer… but even in the four full days of sunshine that we had there (and I do mean full days, there was no night) it's amazing how much started to grow and bloom, so that was its own fascinating experience. And the very big benefit to the situation was that there were no biting bugs to worry about, so as disappointments go this one is definitely not a dealbreaker.

There were a lot of very memorable moments, and a lot of very memorable birds. But the single moment that stands out more than any other came at the end of an hour+ long hike across the tundra, when we stopped near an isolated bay and had four Yellow-billed Loons start singing to each other in an eerie call-and-echo chorus that echoed off the water. That's definitely one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences you never forget.

My life list got a huge boost, too, of course. I wouldn't say I'm a Lister, but I do list, if you can appreciate the difference. Highlights include:

  • Greater White-fronted Goose (I chase this one every year when they migrate through, and have never managed to catch one)
  • Brant
  • King Eider
  • Surf Scoter
  • Pacific Loon
  • Yellow-billed Loon
  • American White Pelican
  • Red-necked Phalarope
  • Sabine's Gull
  • Arctic Tern
  • Long-tailed Jaeger
  • Western Tanager
  • Harris' Sparrow
  • Yellow-headed Blackbird

…among others. Seriously, there were so many birds. Red Phalarope is the one that got away, but that just means I'll have to go back sometime, right?

American White Pelican

Surf Scoter

Bald Eagle

King Eider

American Golden-plover

Greater White-fronted Goose

Snow Bunting

Stilt Sandpiper