Every summer there comes a day when I take the big lens off my camera and I go find my macro lens. This is a lens specifically designed for super close-up work and I go in search of the little things that live in my yard. I do this to remind myself that most of the animal life on this planet is small. Insects and other arthropods that form a huge component of the machinery of life around us usually perform the work of this machinery in obscurity right under our noses.
With the much smaller 105 millimeter macro lens on my camera, I set off to the meadow behind my house. I was looking for anything that was small. Small flowers, small insects, small invertebrates; you name it I was looking for it. As always, I was the beneficiary of a true “whoa” moment when I was confronted with the sheer number of little organisms that I could not identify.
As humans, we are on the large side of living things. We tend to notice other large animals and we notice plants that are either very large (like trees) or have distinctive shapes and colors (like skunk cabbage plants or daylilies). However, we easily overlook the vast majority of living things that are small, obscure, or simply “dull” in appearance.
Today, I present two photographs of two insects that are similar. The first is a small, wedge-shaped creature that I have identified as the citrus flatid planthopper (Metcalfa pruinosa). It took me a long time to figure this one out and I would greatly appreciate any alternate opinions as to the identity of this particular insect. However, I’ll say that I’m 99 percent confident in my identification.
These insects are specialized for feeding on the phloem of plants. For those of you not familiar with botanical nomenclature, phloem is the tissue that is responsible for carrying food and nutrients throughout a plant. Another tissue, called xylem (pronounce zie-lem) is responsible for transporting water through a plant. So, you could think of a planthopper as filling the same parasitic role on plants that a mosquito would fill for an anima. The mouthparts are long, needle-shaped appendages that pierce through plant tissue and then allow the nutrient-rich “sap” to be sucked out.
Because the sap of plants is so high in sugar, the insects need to filter out the nutrients they need and get rid of the excess. In doing this, planthoppers produce a sugary liquid called “honeydew” that is a waste product for them but a valuable source of food for other species. So, as with aphids, planthoppers are often tended by little shepherds in the form of ants. There are two ways you can imagine this relationship: A human tapping maple trees for sap or a human tending a herd of cows for milk.
There are over 12,500 species of planthoppers that have been described by science and the citrus flatid planthopper is the most common species found in our area. It has a distinct “powdery” appearance with a collection of dark spots (more like smudges if you ask me) that are located near the “front” of the wings where they attach to the bodies. However, I must say here that the only reason I figured this all out is because, over the years, I’ve invested in huge tomes on insects. I spent quite a while looking at pictures (sort of like going through a mug book) until I saw a familiar face.
The second species that I found is probably a leafhopper rather than a treehopper. I say this because treehopper nymphs (the immature stage of these particular insects) have long white tufts that decorate their tails. Notice that the insect shown in my second photo has no long white tail tufts. Also, notice that the shape of the head is quite different from the citrus flatid planthopper. You can see that this nymph has small underdeveloped wings on the side of its body, suggesting that it will be able to fly once it morphs into its adult stage.
Both of these insects were found on the same stem of an elecampane plant (Inula helenium), where I have found candy-striped leafhoppers (Graphocephala coccinea) in the past, but with over 12,500 species to chose from I’d be a fool if I said that I knew what this thing really is. Regardless, look at how beautiful this creature is. Sharp spines on legs may make this thing unpleasant to swallow. The elegant, even jaunty curve of the abdomen is certainly interesting to look at, suggesting an insect with a bit of flair for the dramatic.
Summer is now two-thirds over, but we still have a solid month of warm weather for picnics and reading books in the shade of a big tree. At some point, give yourself permission to get down on the ground and look at the world from a different perspective. Take the time to focus on something small and you’ll open your eyes to a huge, wonderful community that you might otherwise miss.
Bill Danielson has been a professional writer and nature photographer for 22 years. He has worked for the National Park Service, the US Forest Service and the Massachusetts State Parks and currently teaches high school biology and physics. Visit speakingofnature.com for more information, or go to Speaking of Nature on Facebook.