Even in their final gasps, the milkweeds down in the meadow are alive with diners of all stripes.
This aggregation consists of orange aphids I found only on milkweed. As I understand it, while some adult aphids are winged and move around like most insects, they sometimes lay eggs that hatch only into parthenogenetic females (and this is a scary thought:) who don’t need males to have their own aphid young. So they waste no energy primping for Mr. Right. They just suck the bitter milky sap of milkweed and get fat and pregnant and life is good.
But wait a minute: not too fast! Don’t I remember that one of the chief natural predators of aphids is the ladybug beetle? Dear Lord, we’re up to the eaves in Multicolored Asian Lady Beetles (who will soon return to co-habit our homes in large numbers.) So you would think these aphids would not be long for this world, and perhaps not be so repulsed by the enormous number of them. Only a small number may survive the even larger number of MALBs soon to begin pre-winter feeding themselves.
And the strangest thing on our walk yesterday: certain twigs on the floor of the logging road we walk were lined by a wavering wisp of white. Wooly Aphids had fallen in line only along certain blades of grass and small branches on the ground; and they were all oscillating slowly back and forth as if in a dance. I called Ann back to see it. What were they doing? Was this a mating behavior maybe? They weren’t feeding; some were even on rocks, doing the same shimmy-dance. Wish I’d had my camera! Anybody else seen this and maybe have a clue what’s going on?