Invasive Plants and Giant Woolly Bears!!

Invasive Plants and Giant Woolly Bears!!
November 4, 2016

Autumn was, so far, unseasonably warm, and rather crisp from lack of significant rain. November 4 was a bright, sunny day, with a clear, baby blue sky.

 Canopy over Cottonwood Pond

Because of these rather non-autumnal conditions, autumn color was slow to appear. On November 4, there was still more green in the trees than what is usual for early November, but other colors had been allowed to peak out from behind covers of chlorophyll increasingly since October 31. The woods had begun to take on the warm glow of the yellow-gold to maroon to deep bronze spectrum.

Looking up the slope I had descended

A nearby Sugar Maple, finally turning gold

Blue Beech saplings on the base of the fallen Cottonwood trunk

Sugar Maple sapling on top edge of Root Ball

During the previous three to four days, since I had last been to Cottonwood Pond, the dry leaf layer on the woods floor had become deeper and more varied in texture as a greater variety of trees were letting go of their leaves. 

Creek near Cottonwood Pond

Leaf-filled Creek - looking upstream

 Very Rotten Log over Creek

 Very Rotten Log with dry leaves and new green plant

An insect larva had spun this cocoon when the leaf was green and pliable, attaching silken fibers and pulling them toward itself. It is snug for the winter.

Our shaggy-haired gnome face (the Root Ball Bottom) was looking sleepy, as if resting more deeply into the Mud Pile pillows.

Fallen leaves were gathering into the bowl of earth that is normally Cottonwood Pond. On that day, the bowl, the Inlet, the Isthmus and “little pond” were all dry.

Looking across the main pond bowl toward the Inlet

Northern pond corner, and the Isthmus connecting it with “little pond.”

 “little pond” on the  topside of the Root Ball

A little bit of water from a recent light rain rests on a leaf in the bed of “little pond”

 Interesting designs in the wood at the base of the fallen Cottonwood Trunk, edge of “little pond”

The fallen Cottonwood Trunk was sporting some fresh mushrooms.

A large section of the south-facing side of the Trunk had been rotting significantly, its old wood carved into “apartments” by various small animals, which help break down the wood into soil. New soil could be seen in some of the crevices where it had fallen. The dead leaves that had fallen and nestled into cradled areas would also break down to become part of that soil. I couldn't help but be reminded of Pueblo cliff dwellings.

Something that had been really bugging me for a long time was the existence of Asian Bush Honeysuckle shrubs (various Lonicera species) in the Cottonwood Pond vicinity, very close to “little pond”, the Trunk and the Swampy Spot. These types of non-native shrubs are some of the worst invasive plants in our area. They grow quickly in dense thickets that crowd out native plants and choke out the sunlight that would otherwise reach and enrich herbaceous plants below. Furthermore, they have an allelopathic affect on other plants, preventing them from growing around the shrubs. What eventually appears is a monoculture of Asian Bush Honeysuckle with bare ground underneath.

These shrubs, over the years, have been marching into our woods from either end, and we had only made a small dent in the population with our sporadic efforts to control them. While walking the woods, I pulled up any smaller ones that I could (they pull up easily), but there were many larger ones – some with branches as thick as my wrists – that must be otherwise controlled, calling for a stronger, more consistent effort.

I had only found two of them associated with Cottonwood Pond, so I decided that November 4 was the day I would go do something about them before they spread further. My original plan was to cut the trunks off below the crown. When researching Asian Bush Honeysuckle control methods, my husband had discovered this idea. He tried it out on a few of the shrubs closer to the road and … they died! I thought it would be nice to try this on the Cottonwood Pond shrubs, leaving herbicide behind.

But, I brought the wrong tool. All I brought was my little pruning saw. I have used it to cut thick old Winter Creeper vine on trees. I did not realize the difference.

I first went to the specimen situated on the north side of the fallen Cottonwood Trunk. It was younger, not having produced flowers or fruit, so it was good to catch it so soon.

 Foreground – young Asian Bush Honeysuckle shrub

Mireille insisted on “helping.”

I cleared away leaves and soil from the base, to get to the crown (the part of the plant where the stems meet the roots.)

What I revealed was a beautiful, hairy, curled up caterpillar – and a quite large one.

It had rows of black spines with deep orange-red stripes between. I had been seeing many of these during late summer through early autumn – making their way through the grass near the clothesline, curled up at the base of the Persimmon tree or near some brick garden edging – all over the place. They look much like the familiar Woolly Bear caterpillars that wiggle in droves across our road in September, except for the alternating red stripes and the very large size.

Because I had been seeing so many, I looked them up and learned about them. They are the Giant Woolly Bear Caterpillars! Their Latin name is Hypercompe scribonia. You can learn more about them here ...

http://entnemdept.ufl.edu/creatures/MISC/MOTHS/Hypercompe_scribonia.htm

… where you can also see a photo of the absolutely stunning black-and-white adult that it becomes – the Great Leopard Moth. This is the largest of the Eastern Tiger Moths. With so many of these caterpillars about, I am hoping to see the moths.

Though the caterpillar looks like a “don't touch!” type (indeed, some caterpillars have venomous spines or hairs), this one is safe to touch. The hairiness and bold stripes, though, serve as a warning to possible predators that might consider this one to be venomous, therefore being more likely to avoid it.

This caterpillar, and others I have seen of its kind, stays very tightly curled up when disturbed (so much so that I've wondered if they were still alive.) When I have moved them to safer places, they have stayed stiffly in this position, not even uncurling after I set them down. The above web site article shed light on this phenomenon:

“When threatened, giant woolly bears curl up tightly to protect their vulnerable undersides. When picked up, their stiff, smooth spines are bent backward and they tend to push the caterpillars forward and out of the grip (Wagner 2009). Because of this, it is virtually impossible to forcibly uncurl them when they are in the defensive posture. Also, in this defensive posture, their bright red inter-segmental areas are highly visible  “

By the way, by perusing this article you can learn other fascinating things about this animal, such as (with the moth) where its ears are located and how they are used, and how they produce high frequency clicks in response to bat sonar (bats are one of their greatest predators), and also how the larvae (caterpillars) resist freezing.

The site also has a list of host plants (plants favored in this species' larval diet.) Many of those plants grow at our place, in the woods, gardens, yard, fields, etc. This caterpillar is resourceful. There are some species of caterpillars dependent on only one to three species of plants for food (such as Paw-Paws for Zebra Swallowtail, and Yucca for the … Yucca moth), but the survival of a species can be more assured if it has a more diverse diet (more chances that food is available somewhere.) One of the plants on the list is Tatarian Honeysuckle (Lonicera tatarica), one of the non-native, invasive species of Asian Bush Honeysuckle. I don't know that this is the species near Cottonwood Pond, but I also wondered if other species of Asian Bush Honeysuckle serve as food for this caterpillar.

So, I got out my pruning saw and got down on the ground. It became evident that this tool was too puny for the job as I started to saw into the thick, hard area below the crown. Maybe it would work, but it would take all day.

All I could do was go ahead and saw the trunks above the soil line. The little saw when through them like butter – well, partially frozen butter – much easier. I wanted these things gone. But, after doing this, my choices for killing off the whole plant would be to either go back later with the right tool and attack the crown, or go back later with the right herbicide to smear on the cut parts (which, if I waited too long, I would have to re-cut.) If I did neither, the shrub would come back with vengeance, sprouting numerous new, vigorous stems, as if to say, “Hah! I'll show YOU who's boss!”

Here are before-and-after photos:

Next, it was time to address the one to the south side of the Cottonwood Trunk, next to the Barkless Log extension.

This one was further along, having flowered in the spring, and then producing berries, which would probably be eaten by birds who would spread the seed elsewhere, adding to the huge Asian Bush Honeysuckle problem we already had.

Asian Bush Honeysuckle in fruit - berries between pairs of opposite leaves

Asian Bush Honeysuckle berries on the ground

Again, I moved leaves and soil away from the shrub's base to expose the crown …

… but saw that this would also be too formidable for my little saw. So, in the time it takes me to say “get rid of this Asian Bush Honeysuckle", I cut the trunks.

It had been growing next to a young tree. Here are before-and-after photos, taken from the other side of that tree:

After I had finished, I took all of the trunks and branches from both shrubs and piled them in a nearby, out-of-the-way spot on the slope. They could then become cover for small woodland animals.

Cut Asian Bush Honeysuckle branches piled near base of tree

Close to the second Honeysuckle shrub was the grove of Elderberry shrubs. How could I tell the difference, so that I didn't cut down valuable, native Elderberry plants? First of all, the difference in the leaves.

Leaves of Elderberry shrubs

Elderberry has compound leaves, meaning a leaf shaft is composed of several leaflets. These are arranged oppositely, and each leaflet has a toothed edge.

On the other hand, though Asian Bush Honeysuckle has opposite leaves, they are single leaves, and are paired with the red berries between each pair. The leaves have smooth edges and stay green longer than any other leafy plant in the woods (see previous Honeysuckle photos.)

Another way to distinguish them is through the bark on their trunks. Asian Bush Honeysuckle has a distinctive streaky look. Elderberry bark is smoother in comparison, with distinctive lenticels - the dark, bumpy spots that are scattered about on it.

After accomplishing this task, I wandered up the back slope for a nice walk in the now colorful autumn woods, dry leaves crunching underfoot, November light slanting through the woodland. I looked back down at the site of Cottonwood Pond, which looked so different from that vantage point. I felt I had helped the area by cutting away the invasive shrubs, though I would have to be sure to go back sometime soon to truly finish the job.

Meanwhile, I was sure the Giant Woolly Bear caterpillar was still curled up in the safe place where I had moved it, waiting for winter.

October Observations

October Observations

October 22 and 31

I approached Cottonwood Pond from my usual angle on October 22, which is from the top of the woods, down the slope, west of the area.

But my approach on October 31 was through the woods from the northwest, toward the side of the area.

The fallen Cottonwood Trunk from a distance

As I descended the slope on the 22^nd, I heard a rustling in the distance. I looked up to the far upper side of the woods ...

… and spotted deer! They had been passing through, but then detected my presence (maybe by my footsteps in the early gathering of dry leaves on the ground), and stopped, very still, watching me.

As I reached Cottonwood Pond, I heard the loud whistle-snort that I knew was a warning to me, as well as an alert to the other deer. I could not see how many there were, as they blended so well into the woods, despite their size. Some dashed down the slope and off to the west. I could detect some motion, some flashes of light brown, but otherwise could only hear their serious rush through the leafy woods.

It seemed as if, surely, they had all run off to an area less populated by pesky humans. After being still for awhile, I started moving around Cottonwood Pond, quietly investigating. After I had observed all around, my plan was to wander further into the woods for a nice early autumn walk. But, as I stepped into the Swampy Spot to the east, I heard another loud, sudden whistle-snort above me. Some were still there! I decided then that my presence was too disturbing to them that day, and I also didn't want to bring myself harm from a protective buck. Back up the front slope I went, up to the house.

On the 31^st I decided to start out with an autumn woods walk, carefully listening and watching for deer. After all, it was Halloween – a time to be frightened for no real reason. I would not be, though. So, I quietly, carefully wandered the woods, eventually coming upon Cottonwood Pond from the northwest side, through the bottom floodplain area. Coming upon Cottonwood Pond this way seemed almost like sneaking up on it. From this direction, I immediately had a view of both sides of the Root Ball. I thought about how much this view has changed over the time I have been observing this place.

On that day, there were some damp places, but no standing water anywhere but the Creek. Fallen leaves had created a layer of covering on the pond bed and everywhere else. Other than dips in the ground here and there, it all looked pretty much alike.

In contrast, there had been some rain before my October 22 visit, but after a dry period.

Water was settled into a small bowl of earth before the Root Ball. The increasing size of the Mud Piles seemed to be squeezing the bowl into a narrower shape. Leaves had begun to fall, but there was still much space between them on the ground. And, I thought the Young White Ash at the edge of the pond was leaning farther than it used to.

The changes over time with the Root Ball, the Mud Piles, and the surroundings had been visually aging the general look of the area. Here, I thought, was a funny old, lumpy woods gnome, with a set of dark, deep-sunken eyes, a bulbous nose, a crooked smile above the Mud Piles, and a shaggy, stringy mop of hair hanging partly over its face – a friendly looking face, at that.

The Bent Blue Beech, which arched over the southeast end of Cottonwood Pond, had been developing a serious crack at the highest point of its arch, and on October 22^nd it was much more pronounced.

Though it looked very dead and dry, it had green, leafy saplings growing from the lower part of its trunk and its base. Where it continued on the other side of the Root Ball, there was a trio of connected Blue Beech saplings that had been growing quickly.

Here are more comparisons from the two October visits:

Viewed from the southeast:

October 22

October 31

Looking down from above the Barkless Log over the Inlet:

October 22

October 31

October 22:

North pond corner, Two-Trunk White Ash, Isthmus, with Root Ball and Mud Pile #1 on the right

Looking southeastward across the pond to the Inlet

"little pond"

The area on the 22^nd was full of fresh crawdad chimneys and raccoon prints in the mud.

But, the bottom of the main pond on the 31^st exhibited a strange phenomenon. The soil had been churned up into a granular texture.

It was not just below the fallen leaves, but churned up over the top of some of them.

What had created this? Was it some sort of small animal activity, burrowing and tossing dirt? Did it have to do with changes in weather, temperature, and soil condition? At this point, we had not had any frost. It was an unseasonably mild month. Or, was it just more dirt fallen from the Root Ball, then dimpled by rain? We had not had much rain to speak of.

This was one of the Mysteries of Cottonwood Pond. Another was the holes that had been appearing on the Root Ball Bottom ...

… the Root Ball Top …

… as well as the hole that appeared over the summer in the bottom of “little pond”, not far from the fallen Trunk. Even during a dry period, it had water inside.

There was the ever-changing Cove ...

October 22

October 31

... which had not had any drastic changes throughout the month, possibly due to very little rainfall.

 Even with the Mud Piles piling up higher, I could still find a space to see through.

In the middle of the Cove - some light coming through, and a small view of the other side.

"Eyes" to the other side!!

The tiny white Aster was still blooming next to the pond on the 22^nd.

I have not learned the Asters, and it seems to me they take a great deal of study to distinguish, but I wondered if this one was Heath Aster (Aster pilosus.)

Everything else, though, was in seed or completely dry in October.

Expanse of Wood Nettle on the woods bottom, October 22

Wood Nettle on October 22

Wood Nettle on October 31

Jewelweed had lost all blossoms and seeds by the end of the month.

One tall Jewelweed still existing on Mud Pile #1

Over in the Swampy Spot … what to my wondering eyes did appear? Were those rosettes of new Monkeyflower plants? Time will tell.

Otherwise, there were still the remains of Monkeyflower plants from earlier in the year.

October 22

Temporary Creek #1, which pours into the Swampy Spot:

October 22

October 31

From the Swampy Spot to the Inlet on October 22:

The ball had been pushed to the far north end of the Swampy Spot by October 31:

It was a very slow Autumn. Colors were changing slowly, with some trees losing their leaves early and others hanging on to green color.

Reflection of canopy in Cottonwood Pond water, Oct. 22

Canopy over Cottonwood Pond on October 22

Sugar Maple tree, still green, nearby on October 22

Canopy on October 31^st, including the Sugar Maple sapling growing from the top edge of the Root Ball

Acorn cap from Oak tree and fallen Cottonwood leaf on October 22:

The greater dampness on the 22^nd brought forth more moss.

On the Barkless Log, between the Creek and Inlet

It also brought forth some interesting fungi:

On the Barkless Log over the Inlet

On the Bent Blue Beech

That included some magnificent Oyster mushrooms on the fallen Cottonwood Trunk:

If I had been sure at the time that they were Oyster mushrooms, I would have harvested some for dinner! 

This is a fine example of a dying tree giving new life, still providing for others.

By the 31^st, the Oysters had faded to a pearly sheen with artistic wrinkles.

As Life ages, its beauty changes, but it is always beautiful.

Some fresh fungi were growing from cracks in the same Trunk.

In this odd year, Autumn at Cottonwood, and almost everywhere, was taking its time.

Would we have a real frost before long, and how might that affect Cottonwood Pond?

Asian Bush Honeysuckle in fruit at Cottonwood Pond. This is an exceedingly invasive plant which has been marching into my woods from both ends. Next time I visit Cottonwood Pond, I will do something about these. Stay tuned ...