Death of a Lanternfly, Part 3: When a Chinese mantis has an old friend for dinner – Chinese praying mantis, Tenodera sinensis

 

Mantie, Slayer of Lanternflies, says “make mine a double” when it comes to eating spotted lanternflies.

 

Last week we met Dot, the pretty Carolina mantis who celebrated Thanksgiving week in our home by dining on spotted lanternflies. Shortly after Dot’s arrival we discovered a beautiful Chinese mantis in the front flowerbed. Her name and title are Mantie, Slayer of Lanternflies. The Chinese mantis has a fascinating history in our country. Let’s travel back in time more than a century to October 16, 1897 when a Mr. Joseph Hindermyer discovered a large insect “resting on the upper part of his tomato vines” in Mt. Airy PA, a suburb of Philadelphia. Fortunately, Philip Laurent, Hindermyer’s neighbor and a member of The Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia recognized this large insect to be a rather extraordinary mantis and later discovered that it was an exotic species known from China and Japan. How it arrived in Mt. Airy remains forever shrouded in mystery, but Laurent noted that a large nursery, Meehan and Sons, in nearby Germantown had procured many plants from China and Japan. Could it be that this marvelous predator arrived as a stowaway, perhaps as an embryo in an egg case on a Japanese maple? Maybe so.

One of my favorite reunion stories involves the Chinese mantis and another invasive pest, the nefarious brown marmorated stink bug. Fast forward a century to the mid-1990’s, when the brown marmorated stink bug arrives in the US less than 60 miles from Mt. Airy in Allentown, PA. The dramatic decline of stink bugs in Maryland and several other eastern states over the last decade is in part related to the fact that several of our indigenous predators, parasites, and pathogens are now using brown marmorated stink bugs as a source of food. Prompted by this discovery, I decided that it was time to have a reunion between these two historical acquaintances from the East – the Chinese praying mantis and the Asian brown marmorated stink bug. Like many reunions I have attended, meeting old acquaintances can be fraught with joy and despair. In the case of the Chinese mantis, the reunion with the brown marmorated stink bug was gastronomic joy. She consumed a dozen stink bugs in quick succession before nibbling only half of unlucky stink bug number thirteen. As for the stink bugs, well, let’s just say their reunion was filled with short-lived despair. You see, the hungry Chinese mantis mercifully devoured the stink bugs head first.

The reunion between two old acquaintances from Asia, the Chinese mantis and the brown marmorated stink bug, was a happy one for the mantis but not so much for the stink bug. My favorite part of this video appears at the end as the fastidious mantis tidies up after her meal. And yes, this is several times life speed.

Stout spines on the forelegs enable the mantis to snare and hold its prey.

We fast forward again to 2023 when we learned in last week’s episode that mantises accounted for almost 200 acts of predation on the dreaded spotted lanternfly over the past couple years. For the arthropod clan this remarkable total was second only to observations of spiders attacking lanternflies. As we saw in a previous episode, large orb weavers, including the black and yellow garden spider, find spotted lanternflies quite delectable. With the Chinese mantis in the garden and lots of lanternflies in the research plot, who could resist the opportunity to see if lanternflies were on the menu for the Chinese mantis? Within moments of placing Mantie in a lanternfly arena, she snatched up one lanternfly with one foreleg and moments later snagged a second one in the other foreleg. In a short suspense, she devoured them both and ate two more before the day was through. No doubt her much larger size, giant toothed forelegs, and ravenous appetite allowed her to surpass her cousin the Carolina mantis in a head-to-head lanternfly-eating contest. There is a curious and inexplicable symmetry that a potent biological control agent, the Chinese praying mantis and two of its historical, ancient Asian prey, brown marmorated stink bugs and spotted lanternflies, would be reunited after a century or so within miles of each other half way around the world.  The reunion between the Chinese mantis, the Asian stink bug and now the spotted lanternfly evoke Hannibal Lecter’s famous quote “I do wish we could chat longer, but I'm having an old friend for dinner.” 

A very pregnant Chinese mantis recently visited our fading mums. Inside, after showing some interest in our lanternfly colony, we evaluated her zeal for making lanternflies a meal. In an arena filled with a half dozen lanternflies, she snagged not one, but two lanternflies in a flash and proceeded to eat them with gusto. Why settle for one when you can have two, right? After devouring one, she turned her attention to another and dined on leg of lanternfly for a while. Later she took a deeper dive and enjoyed some tender lanternfly entrails. At the end of the feast all that was left of the lanternfly were wings. The fortuitous reunion of an Asian predator and its historical prey helps to squelch crop loss and concerns wrought by invasive insect pests like stink bugs and spotted lanternflies.

Some have voiced concern that these large generalist predators might eat each other and sometimes even eat small vertebrates like hummingbirds. As I watched Mantie eating spotted lantern flies, I munched a sandwich made from leftover Thanksgiving turkey. I mused that, perhaps, me and lots of other fowl-eating humans share tastes in common with the mantis. When all is said and done, it seems like the Chinese mantis is part of the solution to hordes of lanternflies expanding their range, depredation, and nuisance across our land.    

Acknowledgements

Several articles including “Buzzwords, A Prayer Before Dining” by May Berenbaum, “Sexual cannibalism increases male material investment in offspring: quantifying terminal reproductive effort in a praying mantis” by William D. Brown and Katherine L. Barry, “Sexual cannibalism in the praying mantid, Mantis religiosa: a field study” by S.E.Lawrence, and “A species of Orthoptera” by P. Laurent were consulted for this episode. The wonderful article “Using community science to identify predators of spotted lanternfly, Lycorma delicatula (Hemiptera: Fulgoridae), in North America” by Anne E. Johnson, Alison Cornell, Sara Hermann, Fang Zhu, and Kelli Hoover was used to prepare this story.

Death of a lanternfly, Part 2: Lanternfly on the Thanksgiving menu for a gal called Carolina – Carolina mantis, Stagmomantis carolina

 

A gorgeous Carolina mantis named Dot enjoys an early Thanksgiving feast of spotted lanternfly.

 

Last week we learned that subfreezing temperatures in the DMV were bringing an end to mischief caused by spotted lanternflies. However, Mother Nature’s chill is not the only thing putting a beat-down on this pest. Early in the invasion of spotted lanternfly in the US we read things like this, “…as with many other insects arriving to the United States from other parts of the world and finding no established natural enemies here, it has become very invasive.” Back then, it seemed like there might be no stopping these grape-killing, honeydew-squirting rascals, but now we know better.  

After emerging from an egg case called an ootheca, a tiny Carolina mantis takes its first glimpse of a world full of wonderful morsels to eat. Hopefully, many of these meals will be spotted lanternflies.

A recent publication by scientists at Penn State University summarized observations of acts of predation on various life stages of spotted lanternfly. Arthropods led the carnage with more than 200 attacks by spiders, 196 attacks by mantids, 177 attacks by wasps, 55 attacks by sucking predators like assassin bugs, and another 21 attacks by other arthropods. Twenty some families of birds accounted for more than 500 attacks, with ground dwellers like chickens and pheasants leading the way. Death delivered by members of the cardinal, mocking bird, wren and several other bird clans contributed to the total. Mammals, amphibians, fish and non-feathered reptiles also got into the act accounting for 106 additional observations. Wow! So, when my grandson spotted a Carolina mantis on the window last week, well, we named her Dot (guess why) and just had to invite her in for an early Thanksgiving feast of spotted lanternfly. 

The Carolina mantis ranges from southern Canada into Central and South America. Like other mantis species, Carolina mantises eat a wide variety of insects and spiders found in gardens and landscapes. And yes, on occasion the female consumes her unfortunate mate, especially when mantises are raised in captivity. The extent to which this is an artifact of being raised under unnatural conditions is not known, but it is reported that well fed gals are less likely to consume their suitors than hungry ones. We welcomed Dot into our home and noticed that she was rather pregnant and that she appeared to need just a few more meals to finish the job of generating a full complement of eggs. When placed in a small terrarium housing a half dozen lanternflies, she wasted no time mounting an attack. We have all seen those wildlife movies where a cheetah jets after a gazelle but eventually fails in its attack. Well, Dot’s first try on a lanternfly failed when she brushed the lanternfly with her leg and it sprang away. Not one to give up, her second attack scored. Having witnessed other acts of mantis predation, I was not surprised to see her start at the head and work her way down the body to the meatier parts.  

Meet Dot, a Carolina mantis that stopped by for an early Thanksgiving feast. We offered her some lanternflies but her first attempt to capture one didn’t go that well. With a little more stealth and a faster strike she scored on the second try. Apparently, the first place to start on a lanternfly dinner is the head just behind the left compound eye. After dinner and before the next escapade, it’s always good to do a little grooming. She reminds me of a cat when she does this. Below the dinner place we can see that not much is left of the lanternfly when she is done. After the feast she returned to the wild to continue her beneficial work.

Our house guest dined for a few days devouring a lanternfly or two each day before we released her in a grove of lanternfly infested trees. Here’s hoping her Thanksgiving feast of lanternflies continues long enough for her to lay a mass of eggs before chilly weather closes the door on her escapades. No doubt her legacy of tiny mantis offspring will help mitigate the mischief caused by spotted lanternflies in 2024. 

Acknowledgements

 Bug of the Week thanks eagle-eyed Jackie for spotting the hungry Carolina mantis that was the heroine of this episode. The wonderful article “Using community science to identify predators of spotted lanternfly, Lycorma delicatula (Hemiptera: Fulgoridae), in North America” by Anne E. Johnson, Alison Cornell, Sara Hermann, Fang Zhu and Kelli Hoover was used to prepare this story.

Death of a lanternfly: What a frosty night means to spotted lanternfly, Lycorma deliculata

 

Frozen to death on a tree trunk with its beak still embedded in bark, a rapid drop in temperature caught this spotted lanternfly by surprise.

 

In previous episodes we learned about the introduction and spread of spotted lanternfly in our land, how their sweet, sticky honeydew attracts stinging insects, and why more people witnessed spotted lanternflies this summer and autumn than in years past. As Mother Nature sent a chilly blast to the middle Atlantic region just after Halloween, inquiring minds wanted to know if subfreezing temperatures put an end to the dastardly shenanigans of spotted lanternfly for 2023. Several news outlets report that prolonged temperatures below 28 degrees Fahrenheit are lethal to adult spotted lanternflies, the active feeding stage found on our plants at this time of year. Spotted lanternflies pass the wicked winter as eggs and temperatures must be much colder, in the teens and single digits to put a beat-down on egg survival. 

At the base of a tree of heaven, a season of sucking sap and laying eggs ended when local temperatures dropped into below freezing.

To test the notion of a lethal 28-degree boundary, on November 2 Bug of the Week traveled to scenic Mercerville, MD near Antietam battlefield, where temperatures had dropped to 27 degrees Fahrenheit in the wee hours of the morning. There in a small woodlot rife with tree of heaven, a key food plant in the life cycle of spotted lanternfly, hundreds of spotted lanternflies had succumbed to the freeze. Many of the casualties lay scattered at the base of the tree, while higher up the trunk some were frozen in place with their sap-sucking beaks still embedded in the tree’s bark. Ah, but all were not killed by the frigid night. Nestled near the ground of several trees where the huge warm mass of Mother Earth and some insulating vegetation may have provided a thermal refuge, some spotted lanternflies survived. A quick tally of 100 lanternflies on a half dozen trees revealed 66% dead and 34% alive.

In western Maryland where temperatures dropped into the upper 20’s (Fahrenheit) the first week of November, spotted lanternflies were frozen in place on tree trunks. Some died with beaks still embedded in bark while others littered the ground. Further east where lows reached only 30 degrees Fahrenheit, survival was much higher and spotted lanternflies continued their mischief.

While temperatures in the 20-degree Fahrenheit range are lethal to adult lanternflies, much colder winter temperatures must occur before overwintering eggs will die.

Not one to miss an opportunity to delve a little deeper into chilly deaths of spotted lanternfly, we headed south and east to the somewhat warmer realm of Columbia, MD where on November 3 temperatures dipped to 30 degrees Fahrenheit. Here lanternflies fared much better with only 22% of lanternflies expired and 78% alive and well out of 200 examined. Of course, some of the mortality observed at the base of trees certainly could have resulted from spotted lanternflies punching their ticket to the great beyond after sucking sap for several months rather than being frozen to death. As scientists like to say, more data from the field is needed to fully understand the relationship between low temperatures and the annual swan song for spotted lanternflies. As temperatures rebounded into the upper 70’s and approached 80 in many locations last week, there was yet another opportunity to stand beneath tree of heaven and experience the honeydew shower of the spotted lanternfly. If this is not your cup of tea, rest assured that a seriously frosty night is just around the corner and it will shut the door on these noisome invaders for this year.    

Acknowledgements

Bug of the Week thanks Dr. Shrewsbury for assisting with observations of spotted lanternflies. The wonderful reference “Impact of minimum winter temperature on Lycorma delicatula (Hemiptera: Fulgoridae) egg mortality” by Jung-Su Lee, Il-Kwon Kim, Sang-Hyun Koh, Sung Jong Cho, Suk-Jun Jang, Seung-Hyeon Pyo, and Won IL Choi was consulted for this episode.

Bumble bee, carpenter bee, redux: Bombus spp. and Xylocopa spp.

 

On a dewy morning, male (left) and female (right) carpenter bees await a warm-up from the brilliant autumn sun.

 

You may have seen the carpenter bee’s hole on the outside of your siding - here’s a look at the brood galleries on the inside.

As record warmth embraced much of the eastern seaboard in recent weeks, children and gardeners reported swarms of “large bumble bees” busily gathering nectar from late season blossoms in flower patches, as well as nature centers and flower beds in residential landscapes. While there is no doubt that many of these bee sightings were indeed bumble bees, this is also the closing act of a fresh crop of carpenter bees as they mob patches of flowers to fatten-up on floral delights in preparation for the upcoming winter. Months ago, busy female carpenter bees devoted weeks constructing galleries in wood, provisioning these galleries with pollen, and depositing eggs within these wooden nurseries. Summer and early fall were a time for young bee larvae to consume these morsels, complete their development, pupate, and emerge as adults.  Galleries used as nurseries throughout spring and summer will soon serve as winter refuges for this year’s class of carpenter bees.

Note the shiny hairless abdomen of the carpenter bee.

With a little practice, carpenter bees can be distinguished from their look-alike bumble bee cousins. A carpenter bee’s rump is relatively naked whereas a bumble bee’s butt is usually quite well-cloaked with hair. The head of the carpenter bee is about the width of the thorax, the body segment just behind the head. The head of a bumble bee is noticeably smaller than thorax.

A hairy abdomen is a hallmark of the bumble bee.

Bumble bees have a hairy abdomen, carpenter bees do not. The male carpenter bee has a white patch on his face and the female’s face is entirely black. A male foraged on a lower blossom until he spotted a female foraging just above, and then both appeared to have other business on their minds as they raced away.

Having identified the bee as a carpenter bee, how does one distinguish the guys from the gals? The gender of some carpenter bees such as the large carpenter bee, Xylocopa virginica, is easily recognized by the presence or absence of a large white or yellow patch just between their compound eyes: the male sports the white patch, but the forehead of the female large carpenter bee is entirely black. On occasion I have captured large male carpenter bees with my hand to demonstrate that they are not to be feared as they have no stinger, only female bees are equipped with this notable appendage. On one occasion I mistakenly grabbed a female carpenter bee and learned the awesome power of this appendage.  If for some strange reason you choose to handle large carpenter bees, please be certain that they are indeed carpenter bees and not bumble bees, and only handle the he bee and not the she bee.

If you want to see a carpenter bee up close and personal you can, but do so only if 1) you know it is a carpenter bee, and 2) it is a male bee, confirmed by the white patch between its eyes. If you try this with a female carpenter bee or a female bumble bee you will have a memorable and painful surprise when you are stung.

One quirky behavior of both carpenter bees and bumble bees comes at the end of the work day. Industrious bumble bee workers usually return to their nest at dusk with the final loads of nectar and pollen to fatten-up any future queens and drones that might still be developing in the nest. But sometimes bumble bees and carpenter bees can be found late in the day or early in the morning resting on a blossom, apparently taking a snooze. With no nest to provision or hungry future royals to feed, it is no surprise to find sleepy carpenters resting on flowers in the early light of dewy autumn mornings. One of their favorite resting spots in my garden is a patch of spotted horsemint. Members of the mint family are renowned for their ability to attract a variety of pollinating insects, in addition to their medicinal qualities. Perhaps, the lazy behavior of my carpenter bees is related not only to the nighttime chill that cools their bodies, but also to some soporific chemical found in the nectar of mint. Who knows? When the killing frost finally puts an end to my autumn bloomers, the last of the carpenter bees will enter the brood galleries not to return until next spring. On a cool autumn morning or a warm afternoon take an early trip to the flower garden to visit the newly minted class of 2023.

Acknowledgements

Bug of the Week thanks Jackie, MPT, University of Maryland Master Gardeners, and the Howard Conservancy for providing the inspiration for this episode. The really cool bee book “The Bees in Your Backyard: A Guide to North America’s Bees” by J. S. Wilson and O.M. Carril was used as a resource for this episode.