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I’m a sucker for weird antennae, so this plant bug was an obvious choice for this week’s column. 

There are weasels at the Arboretum!

Dragonflies earn a lot of superlatives. Their order, Odonata, is one of the oldest insect orders, and fossilized dragonflies look just like today’s, but more convincingly dragon-like (imagine a 27-inch wingspan!).

Red-tailed Hawks can often be seen soaring in the clear blue skies of summer. As they circle overhead, the sun illuminates their tail’s warm, red feathers from where they get their name.

What do you call a fly that eats grasshoppers, bees, and even dragonflies?

I have been seeing this beautiful creature on dead snags, stumps, the bases of oak trees, and the small wooden bridges throughout the arboretum. These places allow it to regulate its body temperature and blend into its surroundings as it hunts for prey.

The common name for this fantastic beast is the Douglas-fir glowworm. I know, it doesn’t look like a worm. But, believe it or not, the female of the species does!

Walking along the river path, I hear the high-pitched, trilling whistle of the cedar waxwings, and see them as they swoop down to the lower canopy for berries.

The first thing you notice about fairy moths are the white, waving, and impossibly long antennae.

The Western Screech-Owl is a beautiful bird that lives year-round at Mount Pisgah.

I was lucky to spy this gorgeous, large wasp on a cool cloudy day—low temperatures slowed it down. Normally, these predators are in constant motion, and near impossible to photograph.

One of the most beautiful animals in North America lives among us here at the Arboretum—the coyote. The color of its fur is a varied palette of earth tones. Myriad hues of browns, grays, blacks, and whites are woven together to form a magical coat. It is a thatch work of clay, dry grass stalks, morning sun, bird songs, river

Soft-winged flower beetles are colorful little critters often found on spring blossoms. Beetles in the family are usually about the same shape (ovoid) and small size (2 to 7 mm) but there’s lots of variation—There are over 520 species in the U.S.

“A nobler want of man is served by nature, namely, the love of Beauty.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson

I featured a more common green lacewing on this blog back in September, 2020. Last week, I found a rarer, earth-toned cousin: the San Francisco Lacewing. 

The western gray squirrel is a marvelous creature. Its defining feature is an amazingly bushy tail that is nearly as long as its body.

Given the common names marsh fly and snail-killing fly, you can guess the habitat and peculiar diet of this splay-legged, long-faced fly. But if you read further, you’ll learn some other fascinating traits, and two new vocabulary words.

Owls will often spend consecutive days around the same perch from where they will roost during the day and hunt at night Most owls are nocturnal, but Northern Pygmy-Owls mostly hunt by day. Under these roosts, you can often find evidence of an owl’s presence: owl pellets.

ada genus bees have a lot of unlovable qualities. They not only steal food stores from pollinating bees, but they eat their larvae. Then there’s the cannibalism. Yet, these clever and colorful bees are an important part of, if you will, the bee-cosystem.

Standing at the top of the zigzag trail, I could hear hammering resounding through the forest. I walked down the path to find a pair of Pileated Woodpeckers on a dead tree. They were excavating small holes in the wood using their chisel-like bills as they searched for food.

A rove beetle is proof that something you might first take for a nondescript creepy crawly creature has astounding capabilities. It all has to do with their wings.

The Hermit Thrush blends well into the winter landscape. Its head and back are medium-brown and are accented by a warm, rufous tail. Its breast is patterned with brown spots that appear slightly smudged.

Small winter stoneflies are an intrepid group built to emerge as adults in the winter. To survive the chill, they create their own antifreeze. In fact, they’re so acclimated to the cold that they estivate—which is like hibernating—in the summer. 

Chipmunks are diurnal, which means they are active during the day. You will see this pocket-sized Townsend’s chipmunk quietly scampering over the forest floor as it curiously searches for food.

The white-crossed seed bug (Neacoryphus bicrucis), like a lot of true bugs, lives through the winter as an adult and this one, at least, was living at Mount Pisgah last week. Where it spends the rest of the year is anyone’s guess.

I frequently see a small flock of Western Bluebirds at the Arboretum. When the mistletoe berries are ripe, I see them in the oak trees around the parking lot.

This week’s subject is a teeny beetle with skimpy biographical information. It’s hardy enough to survive winter as an adult, and has features that can fake out an expert. 

A familiar sound at the arboretum is the rustle of leaves from Spotted Towhees foraging. They hop backward with both feet to sweep away the leaf litter in search of food. Their diet consists of insects, spiders, seeds, acorns, and berries.

Recently, I have been fortunate to observe a muskrat out in the lily pond area.

Water striders live on the surface of the water, as if it were solid ground. They perform some other magic tricks too. 

Over the last 3 or 4 years, I have seen a Black Phoebe spending the fall and winter months at the Arboretum.

For a long time, ladybugs intimidated me. That’s because I knew there were lots of species, and I was hesitant to dive in and figure them out.

As I head up the Zigzag Trail, I find myself shuffling through a colorful mosaic of bigleaf maple leaves.

The other day, I saw what I thought was a moth flutter past and land on a tree. What I found sitting on the bark, though, was a caddisfly, which is neither a moth nor a fly. 

The other evening I watched a Barred Owl zigzagging down the Creek Trail corridor hunting for food. It would sit on a perch about 10-20 feet off the ground and scan the area with its eyes and ears. When it zeroed in on its potential prey, it silently drifted out over the meadow and pounced.

At Mount Pisgah, Phyciodes mylitta have a fairly long adult season, flying into late summer and at least into mid-October. They spend the winter as late-stage larvae, and apparently they wiggle out to bask on sunny winter days. So look near thistles for small, bristly black caterpillars in the coming months. 

Bushtits are busily moving about the landscape in small foraging flocks. It is common to see around 20 in a group, and I have counted as many as 40 together.

The first time I saw one of these flashy orange flies, I thought it looked like a cowboy with bow-legged back legs and fringed boots.

While the Steller’s Jay is busily exploring the oak tree canopy collecting acorns, the Black-capped Chickadee is investigating the speckled oak galls on the underside of leaves.

I love finding something that flummoxes me. So I was intrigued to spot this three- to four-millimeter long insect parading up and down grasses near the horse area at Mount Pisgah. At that small size, I couldn’t tell if it was a beetle or a bug, and at first I thought the enlarged front legs might be its antennae. 

Acorns are a sturdy nut with some gravity as they fall. As they drop through the tree, I can hear them brushing against the oak leaves.

If you spotted this insect on a blackberry leaf, as I did last week at Mount Pisgah, you would probably keep moving, and maybe even quicken your pace, to get out of the way of the yellow jacket wasp. And this particular moth would be satisfied that you did.

Sitting in the shade of a ponderosa pine listening to the river flow, I heard the faint murmurings of the Red-breasted Nuthatch.

Not only are katydids masters of disguise, they also have a multi-colored life cycle, and they hear with their lower legs! There’s just one good-sized (3 centimeter) green katydid in Oregon and it’s a fun one: the fork-tailed bush katydid.

Because summertime is wasp time, this column features the second remarkable wasp in a row. Females of the Leucospis genus have a convoluted and somewhat shocking egg-laying system, so fasten your seatbelt.

This striking red wasp with iridescent blue wings has been fairly visible on Queen Anne’s lace lately. It’s a Western Red Spider Wasp in the Tachypompilus genus.

In general, I think people should be talking more about moths. In the Lepidoptera order, more than 90% of species are moths, and less than 10% are butterflies. Plus, moths have remarkable variety in body type, wing shape, and antennae form.

This week’s subject is the rose weevil. Weevils are beetles with exaggerated snouts. The snout, or rostrum, helps the insect munch into its favorite foliage to lay eggs and to eat.

Seeing an oak treehopper (Platycotis vittata) was on my long-term wishlist, and it was so exhilarating to find one that I was on a nature high for a couple of days. These brightly-colored, odd-shaped true bugs look like they should live in tropical forests, but they’re fairly common in the Pacific Northwest.

Scarab beetles in the sub-family Melolonthinae have two common, common names: May beetles and Junebugs (more later). There are over 600 species in North America, and all have frilly, fanning antennae, claws on their forelegs, and a large plate near the mouthparts…

What insect starts life like a butterfly or moth, but emerges from its cocoon looking like a wasp? If you’re like me a few months ago, maybe you’ve never heard of them before, but the mystery morpher is a sawfly.

Crane flies are the gawky, spindly creatures that sometimes flap awkwardly around your ceiling. While many of the 15,000 species are brown or tan, a few Oregon varieties have orange and yellow markings…

Many insect species have such subtle differences that it takes an expert with a microscope to tell them apart. The Western Ash Borer ( Neoclytus conjunctus) didn’t get that memo.

Insects in the true bug class, Hemiptera, are a wildly diverse group. It’s hard to imagine that cicadas, water striders, tree hoppers and this column’s subject: lace bugs are as related to each other as butterflies and moths, but they are. What ties them together is a juice-sucking bodily straw, or rostrum, which usually folds under their thorax.

March is a great time to observe the incredible insects inside ponds and pools. Even temporary puddles are host to some really cool characters. I found predaceous diving beetles (PDB’s) in a couple different places around Mount Pisgah recently, and they sport some flashy features like tail-breathing and larvae with 14 eyes!

The moth is often portrayed as the butterfly’s homely, drably-dressed cousin. In truth, they can be quite colorful in hue and in life history.

Warmer and more insect-filled days are coming soon, but for now I’m still scratching in the leaf litter. This week, I uncovered a bug-eyed predator in the Notiophilus genus.

The boxelder bug is a familiar fellow to many. Sadly, the first word that comes to mind about them probably has a negative connotation: something like “nuisance.” I’d like to re-set that impression of this colorful true bug by highlighting some lesser-known facts.

I’ve found myself turning over rocks and logs lately, and beneath a downed branch under a white oak I was rewarded with this purple-shimmering, rather large and handsome beetle. A few of the things I’ve since learned about it made me wish I’d spent more time with it.

Lately, I’ve been spotting a few types of dance flies in woodsy areas on sunny days. These flies in the Empididae family are small and seemingly unremarkable, but like nearly every insect I’ve looked into, they have some peculiar and provocative features.

The star of this week’s column is a diminutive wasp in the Gelis genus. Specifically, with thanks to Ross Hill at BugGuide.net, this is Gelis tenellus. These parasitic wasps don’t have a common name, which is a good sign that they’re not very well studied. However, in researching them, I learned enough to know that they’re worthy of more attention.

Mayflies are in the insect order Ephemeroptera, which is Greek for “short-lived, winged” creature. While the common name is misleading, the scientific name is spot-on. They are ephemeral indeed. Imagine an animal that spends more than 99% of its life underwater, looking like a shell-less lobster, then matures to live above the water for just one or two days.

Today’s column focuses on a true bug (in the Hemiptera order) that looks like a reptilian
insect or tiny dinosaur. The first time I saw this Phymata genus bug, on coyote brush in
Mt. Pisgah’s south fields, I only got a good look at its back. I figured it was some kind of
shield bug, but I didn’t get any good pictures of it from the side before it flew away.

The Diurnal Firefly is one of my favorite finds at Mount Pisgah recently. These black insects with red “bracket” markings on their thoraxes are beetles, not flies. And because the fireflies we have in Oregon don’t light up, you could say they are neither fiery nor a fly. Still, there’s plenty about them to spark some interest. Our Oregon beetles

Note: These pictures were taken a few days before wildfires made it unsafe to visit Mt. Pisgah. Green lacewings are one of the rare insects that are doubly blessed. They’re beloved as predators of aphids and other pests, and they’re nice to look at. Lucky for us, they’re fairly common in Oregon. They also have some fascinating and unique traits. 

Welcome to the second Insect Insights! This post is about a creature nearly everyone has heard, but most people likely haven’t seen.   Tree crickets don’t always live in trees, and probably don’t fit your mental image of a cricket. They’re in the same family as grasshoppers (Orthoptera) and in the Oecanthus genus, pronounced “ee CAN thus.” One species of