The Little Green Eggs (part 1)

(click on a photo to enlarge)

As I sit here pondering what to post about next, I’m looking at the terrarium that holds over-wintering pupa containing the promise of moths to come. I’m sure I won’t be seeing them until next spring, so writing about them now will remind me what a learning experience that cluster of little green eggs turned out to be.

Most calm, warm nights (and some not so warm), I set up my blacklight on a wall of the house under the patio roof. The wavelength of light that is emitted is very attractive to not only moths but beetles and a bevy of other flying insects. The insects themselves attract bats, so sometimes we have quite a circus going on out there.

One morning in August I found a small cluster of about 45 lime green eggs on the side of the house under where the black light was hanging. I knew they must be from one of the moth visitors from the previous night and since the eggs were a fair size, the moth was probably fairly large.  Always curious about something new, I carefully picked the eggs off the stucco and put them in a small container. After a few days had gone by, I noticed that the uniformly colored lime green eggs were now transparent with little caterpillars showing through. I really hadn’t expected them to be fertile.

The Mystery Green Eggs

Almost immediately the eggs began hatching and since they were not laid anywhere near a food source (in desperation, maybe?), I was in a quandary as to what to do with the little caterpillars. Fortunately Dr. Bruce Walsh, moth expert at University of Arizona, was apparently sitting at his desk reading e-mails when my desperate plea arrived. I’d sent a photo and a request, if possible, for an ID and host plant suggestion for the tiny, strange-looking caterpillars.

Mystery Caterpillar

Fortunately, in most if not all lepidoptera, newly-hatched caterpillars get their first meal from their own egg shell. At least the little guys wouldn’t starve while I was trying to sort things out.

Yum

Looking more closely at the little caterpillars (first instar larvae) one cannot help but notice the long projections on the head with what look like tiny sharp needles at the terminus. To me, and probably to any predator thinking about a meal, this means don’t touch me or you’ll get stung. I didn’t test out my theory. Many caterpillars do have stinging hairs for protection and I’m certain this is the case here.

Don’t Touch Me!

So I guess it’s about time to reveal the name of my mystery caterpillar (thanks to Dr. Walsh) — it’s Hubbard’s Small Sphinx Moth (Sphingicampa hubbardi) a member of the Silk Moth Family (Sphingidae). It feeds on many different legumes (members of the Pea Family or Fabaceae) and Velvet Mesquite would do just fine. I had plenty of that although it turned out to be a challenge finding tender new growth for the tiny caterpillars in mid-August. Nevertheless, I raised the survivors to where they are today — pupae nestled in some vermiculite in a terrarium.

Finally on a host plant!

In an upcoming post, watch these caterpillars grow and transform into amazing-looking fifth instars just before they turn into pupae.

Published by Arlene Ripley on November 28th, 2009 Tagged Arizona, Cochise County, Insects, Moths, Nature, Plants

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