Caterpillar
I like caterpillars.
Filing this under “unidentified” for now, as I haven’t a clue what species this is, or what kind of moth or butterfly it will turn into. Anybody know what this one is?
I like caterpillars.
Filing this under “unidentified” for now, as I haven’t a clue what species this is, or what kind of moth or butterfly it will turn into. Anybody know what this one is?
Steve Jackson uses the scientific method in much the same way I do, specifically in a slightly amateur fashion that positively reeks of enthusiasm. Steve has learned to look at things and think about them, rather than try to capture measurements that match what he’s already read in a book or on Google. He watches behavior and learns from it. He has learned to see what is in front of him, rather than learn the word for what he is seeing and assume that the word is the thing. He has an appreciation for science that is, in a word, “awesome”.
If he had a lab, it would have a Jacob’s ladder and a monster on a table. I’m just saying. Oh, and one of those machines that goes parp.
Anyway. The reason for this comment is that Steve has this to say about today’s caterpillar (click the larger version to see all of the caterpillar):
“I think this guy is a tent caterpillar, or at least closely related, but there were no tents visible. He was just standing still on an oak trunk, looking incredible. I don’t have enough depth of field at that range, sadly, so the good focus here is on the head. This is a big guy: 55.5 mm long. How do I know this? Because, not having a ruler with me, I broke a twig to his exact length and brought it home to measure.”
See? Awesome.
There comes a time in a man’s life when he realizes that he has posted too many pictures of woolly bear caterpillars.
I’ll let you know if that ever happens to me.
This is “Waldo” from last Monday’s photograph. He actually moves around, though not often and not with any alacrity. It was 6°C outside when I took this photo. This was the highest temp of the day (and week, it snowed again the next day).
I can not get over the fact that these bugs are alive and active during the winter! Tim Eisele sent me a research paper documenting winter-active spiders, and about half a dozen of the species mentioned are found out here. Most of them are only active down to about -2°C but some were active all the way down to -5°C! Those bugs have a fascinating problem: they’ve got really good antifreeze in their blood, but if they eat a bug that has a lower concentration of antifreeze, the digested food can actually freeze in their stomach! How freaking crazy is that? All the way crazy, that’s how crazy!
So! It looks like I’ll be bundling up warm and heading out with my camera to photograph these bugs that are too crazy to come in out of the cold. For now, here’s Waldo. Who’s a cute widdle fuzzy-wuzzy den?
I resolved to find and take some fresh pictures for InsectPOD yesterday. No matter that there’s snow on the ground, no matter that the arthropod biosphere is all but depleted, surely there must be something out there I can photograph! Where do the bugs go in the wintertime? I shall find them, and photograph them. Who knows, maybe they’ll be shivering, all blue in the face and with their mandibles chattering.
I am thrilled (and perhaps a bit embarrassed) to say that the arthropod biosphere is flourishing. When I went outside it was about 6°C. As you can see, there is still a solid blanket of snow over much of my back yard. But all I had to do to see a live critter was look down. Did you find Waldo? Here he is:

And here’s a closeup:

Now this little guy is still mostly in hibernation. Nighttime temps hover around -8°C. But I went out this morning to check on Waldo, and he had moved! (Please note that I have no idea what the gender of this caterpillar might be. In the event that he is a she, I would like to take this opportunity to in advance to say “Whoa, I thought you were a dude. My bad. I am so glad we’re not spiders.”)
I said the biosphere was flourishing, enough to embarrass myself for thinking it was inactive. But I’ve posted pictures of hibernating woolly bear caterpillars already. What’s to be embarrassed about? Well, I found another bug in the lawn, and this one was very much not in hibernation. Wanna see the picture? Well… you’ll have to wait until Friday!
(cue spooky music!)
Steve Jackson sends us this gorgeous photo of a Black Swallowtail Caterpillar–the same kind of caterpillar that mauled Siegfried.
Steve captured the majesty of this beautiful caterpillar perfectly, but the photo is just the beginning of the awesome: he also sent in some great details on the bug itself:
Photographed this May in Austin, Texas, on its food plant. From my notes at the time:
“25 butterfly caterpillars, all the same type - white, with black stripes and yellow-orange spots - on a single plant of Queen Anne’s lace. They ranged from spiky quarter-inchers with a pale band around the middle to smooth 1.5-inchers with no band, but there were enough intermediate sizes, with intermediate morphology and colors, for me to feel pretty sure they’re all the same kind. Yes. A bit of web research: Black Swallowtails. The little spiky, banded ones are first instar.”
I watched them for a while as they grew, and moved a few to an untenanted plant in my office’s back lot. When bothered, they inflate orange horns on their heads and drool very carrot-smelly green stuff.
Okay, first off: Steve Jackson takes notes. Second? If I hadn’t been running this site I would not have known the word “instar”, which refers to a partial metamorphosis. You can think of it as a “stage” in development. For example, house centipedes start out with four legs, then grow an additional pair of legs every time they molt into a new instar. Third, Steve moved some of them to a plant by his office where he could watch them more closely.
I don’t know how long Steve Jackson has been doing bug research, but I know for a fact that he does something different for his day job. What excites and inspires me is seeing people who aren’t professional entomologists getting out there and learning about bugs by watching bugs instead of by watching Animal Planet.
Seven kinds of awesome, Steve. Thank you!
Tim Eisele sends in this picture of a Cecropia Caterpillar. He took this picture in August of 2006 with his “old Sony digital camera, which did not have a macro lens”. As you can see, this did not matter.
The size of the moth is determined by the size of the caterpillar, and as you can see this baby is going to be gigantic. This is because Cecropia is not actually a moth, but a species of bat. The Cecropia mothbat! With glowing red eyes and glistening fangs, these unspeakable giant bugs drop onto…
(This is where you all chorus, “BATS AREN’T BUGS!”)
Hyalaphora cecropia, while not really a bat, does actually have a bird’s name: the Robin Moth. It’s no wonder: they have wingspans up to 12cm. This beautiful moth is, unfortunately, on the decline in the United States. According to BugGuide, tachinid flies were introduced to control gypsy moths. The flies parasitize gypsy moth caterpillars by laying eggs on them, but it appears that tachinids have no problems parasitizing H. cecropia as well.
Thanks, Tim! Great photo!
AJ Reardon sends in this great picture of a “squishy worm” she photographed outside her apartment. Like me, AJ often has trouble identifying species, but will try to get as close as possible. She has narrowed this caterpillar down to some kind of “freaky larva thingie”. I just want to say that this is the best trial identification I have received to date.
AJ points out that this insect looks a bit like a hornworm, but that the coloration was unusual: this bug was nearly translucent. I wish I could have been there to watch the photography session; watching a bug’s innards squoosh and splurt around inside its skin as it crawls around would certainly have made me lean more towards “freaky larva thingie” myself.
Also, I apologize to any of you who read that last sentence while trying to eat breakfast. To you I offer this hopefully helpful question: What on earth are you doing reading InsectPOD over breakfast? You realize you’re doing this to yourself, right? Seriously, what is the matter with you?
But I digress. I did some research on this critter, and it does indeed look to be some kind of hornworm. Some hornworms can actually change coloration over their lifetime, though I do not know if it an actual change in skin coloration or the coloration of their foodplant showing through translucent skin. In addition to the horn at the back, the angled stripes along the body are typical of these caterpillars. I suspect that this critter will become a Sphynx Moth, Subfamily Sphinginae, and if AJ took this in North America then it can be further specialized to Tribe Sphingini. (I didn’t know the taxonomy tree had “tribes” before today, did you?)
Awesome photo, AJ! Thank you!
Quick! Anybody remember the hit dice on a carrion crawler?¹ Reader Matt Smith sends in this photo of caterpillar from Australia.
Well OF COURSE it’s from Australia. What IS IT about freaky animals and Australia? I mean, is there some weird genetic scrambling force down there? Or is there maybe some migration gene crosslinked with excessive mutation that says “Hey, we just grew tentacles; time to migrate down under.” Maybe Nature herself used it as a penal colony long before humans did. “Whoa, there, snakey. You have enough venom in your head to kill the Eastern Seaboard. Off to Australia, mate.” Or maybe it’s like an exclusive club with tight entrance requirements. I wonder if spiders get turned away on boats all the time down there. “Nar, mate, we already got six kinds that kill people. If you or any of your friends back in Chile can, say, burst into flames or shoot lasers out yer bum, come back and see us, hey?”
Thanks for this photo, Matt… it’s just amazing. I have no idea if those tentacles are dangerous but my money is on “yes”.
¹ 3+1 HD in AD&D; 3d8+4 (19hp) in 3.5 ruleset.
Now this is a strange one: this caterpillar photo was taken by reader Athena Fritz in Seattle, WA, USA… last week. I think this is a bagworm caterpillar, or at least some form of Springtime foliage-eating caterpillar. I know Seattle is green year-round but I am surprised to find such a critter alive in December at that latitude!
[Edit: Athena scolded me after posting this. She had indeed sent me some pictures taken in December, but I got them mixed up. This photo was taken in mid October, which downgrades this caterpillar from utterly bizarre to merely very improbable. Also, she points out that they live in the Tri-Cities area of Washington state, which is apparently not in Seattle. In fact, she insists that it’s clear on the other side of the state. When I pressed her on whether or not she lived far enough away from Seattle to not vote a straight Eco ticket, however, she just coughed nervously and changed the subject. Sorry for the mix-up, Athena, and thanks again for the photo!]
She says she found it on the floor in the house, which could mean that it was tracked in from anywhere, including having been refrigerated for a long time in some human storage facility. It’s a puzzler!
Any Seattlites out there know more about this one? Who knows, maybe it’s actually a common critter up there?
I had all but resigned myself to posting guest pics until next April, and filling in the odd weekend slot with older images from my camera. Imagine my joy and surprise when, this very morning, I saw photographworthy bugs in my yard! I had just thrown the dog out to do her morning business, when I looked down and saw not one but three woolly bear caterpillars frozen in hibernation near my back door.
And the frozen might be literal. It was -7°C (20°F) when I took this photo. It amazes me that woolly bears have the ability to withstand these temperatures without dying.
Hmmm, okay, here’s another experiment for next year: woolly bear caterpillars have a half-year life cycle. This guy (or gal) will hibernate through the winter. He’ll warm up in Spring, eat some more grass to kickstart his metabolism, then spin a chrysalis and pupate into an Isabella Tiger Moth. His children will be caterpillars in Summer, moths in Fall, and his grandchildren will, like him, overwinter as caterpillars. What I wonder is this: will his children be able to overwinter, or does it skip a generation? I may try sticking a handful of Spring woolly bears in the freezer to find out.
P.S. It took me quite a bit of researching, but it’s “woolly bear” with two words and two l’s. ![]()