This morning I spied a Colorado Potato Beetle (Leptinotarsa decemlineata) or three in the vegetable garden. Here’s a fuzzy snapshot of one Colorado Potato Beetle contentedly munching away on young eggplant leaves.
Colorado Potato Beetle on Eggplant Leaf (Source: Geo Davis)
Do you see the yellow striped beetle? It’s approximately center frame.
Here’s a closeup of another Colorado Potato Beetle once I flicked him/her onto the ground.
Colorado Potato Beetle (Source: Geo Davis)
Despite the fact that these pests are aren’t questionably distractive to the vegetable garden, I find it difficult to kill such a beautiful creature. Somehow it’s easier to squish a slug that it is to crush this handsomely striped beetle.
Despite my aesthetic misgivings, I dispatched each Colorado Potato Beetle and made a mental note to doodle or perhaps watercolor one. Or two. (See above.)
This post, the latest installment in my friend or foe series, will endeavor to demystify Colorado Potato Beetle (Leptinotarsa decemlineata).
Description: The mature beetles are around 1/3″ long and their hard, rounded shell (think modern VW bug) is yellow with black stripes (body) and orange with black spots (head). Although I haven’t seen any yet, the Colorado Potato Beetle larvae “are plump orange grubs with two rows of black dots on each side of the body.” (Source: Great Garden Companions: A Companion Planting System for a Beautiful, Chemical-Free Vegetable Garden, Sally Jean Cunningham)
Damage: They defoliate potatoes, eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, etc.
Prevention: Straw mulch and row covers. Remove and crush larvae and adults.
Enemies: According to Cunningham, the Colorado Potato Beetle appeals to lots of predators including: “ground beetles, spined soldier bugs, and two-spotted stinkbugs, as well as birds and toads.” She offers plenty of additional options for gardeners interested in introducing/encouraging predators.
Companions: Bush beans ostensibly discourage Colorado Potato Beetle infestations, as do garlic, horseradish, “tansy, yarrow, and other Aster Family plants…”
I’ll start by hunting, doodling, and crushing. And then I’ll hustle up on installing our straw mulch (we’re WAY behind!) and adding some companion plants. Fingers crossed.
The Eastern Coyote (Canis latrans var) is an omnipresent wild neighbor at Rosslyn. The tracks, the songs, and the holistic balance that the Eastern Coyote brings to our +/-70 acres are an everyday reminder that the wildway is healthy and that wild flora and fauna are thriving in our small slice of the Adirondack Coast.
Although I won’t pretend to present the most current science about a topic that is enjoying diverse debate among scholars and researchers far more learned than I, my understanding is that the eastern coyote which frequents our fields and forests is a relatively new hybrid (aka crossbreed) between coyotes, wolves, and domestic dogs.
“Eastern Coyotes are the largest wild canid in the Adirondack Park. They look something like a small German Shepherd Dog, with thick fur, bushy tails tipped with black, and large erect ears. Our Adirondack coyotes tend to be orange-gray or grayish brown above with paler underparts. The front surfaces of the lower legs are black, while the outsides of the legs are tan or rufous. The eyes are yellowish, with round pupils.” (Source: Wild Adirondacks)
In my firsthand anecdotal experience, the Eastern Coyotes we witness on our property are consistently larger than the coyotes we see on our property in Santa Fe, New Mexico. They are robust, confident, and healthy. While they’ve never threatened or even remotely intimidated us (or our dogs), I have more than once witnessed their curiosity. On the rare occasion when I’ve startled one on foot, it has fades into the forest almost immediately. But a couple of times I’ve come across a solitary Eastern Coyote while brush hogging, and it has lingered close enough to keep an eye on me, not so much following the tractor as keeping a wary distance but studying me. The experience has each time felt like a gift, a rare opportunity to observe this handsome canid up close without its immediate instinct to retreat.
This post, the latest installment in my friend or foe series, will endeavor to demystify Canis latrans var.
Eastern Coyote Family & Territory
A similar gift has been received on multiple occasions when we listen to coyotes yipping, calling, and howling. Often the voices merge from multiple directions, eventually gathering into a vast chorus. It can sound as if dozens of coyotes are fêting (and feasting) just beyond the veil of darkness, though I’m aware that the numbers are likely much fewer.
“The Eastern coyote does not form a true ‘pack’ with multiple adults living together like their relative the wolf. Instead they are organized as a ‘family unit’. Each family unit is made up of the adult pair and their pups from the current year. A family unit will defend a territory of 2 to 15 square miles against other coyotes. It is the territorial behavior of coyotes that limits their numbers in any one area.” (Source: NYS Dept. of Environmental Conservation)
In other words, the Eastern Coyote is an effective community organizer, dispersing its population according to the sustainability of the region within which it resides. And a healthy Eastern Coyote population significantly benefits the trophic dynamics within our broader community. Nevertheless, these charismatic canids are often misunderstood and persecuted. Efforts to extirpate coyotes are not only inhumane, they are also ineffective due to compensatory reproduction.
“Research suggests that when aggressively controlled, coyotes can increase their reproductive rate by breeding at an earlier age and having larger litters, with a higher survival rate among the young. This allows coyote populations to quickly bounce back, even when as much as 70 percent of their numbers are removed.” (Source: The Humane Society of the United States)
Eastern Coyote Concerns
Conversation about coyotes, coywolves, and most other apex predators inevitably incites worry among pet owners, farmers, and outdoor enthusiasts. Popular mythology has long touted the ferocity of our charismatic, carnivorous neighbors. While we are wise to respect their feral nature, wise to minimize risk to our domesticated animals, and wise to ensure that we not take undue risks or provoke wild animals of any sort, it’s also important to balance our concerns with a scientifically sound understanding. It’s even more important to adapt and embrace cohabitation; our ecosystem will pay dividends and our own health and pleasure will benefit immeasurably.
Frequent readers are aware that friend and Essex neighbor John Davis (Executive Director, The Rewilding Institute; Rewilding Advocate, Adirondack Council) serves as Rosslyn’s wildlife steward. He monitors the health of our land and the increasingly abundant flora and fauna that thrive in our small wildway along the Adirondack Coast. I reference here some of John’s advice on why it is wrong to kill Eastern Coyotes.
Killing these apex predators is wrong for several reasons:
1. It doesn’t work. If people are concerned about Coyotes or CoyWolves killing livestock or house pets, it is better to let the big dogs attain stable, self-regulating populations. Conflicts with domestic animals are most common in predator populations that are being persecuted, such that the young do not have mature role models to teach them to hunt and keep clear of people.
2. Apex predators, particularly top carnivores, are essential members of healthy ecosystems. They help hold herbivores in check and prevent them from over-browsing plant communities…
Hunting by humans does not mimic hunting by native carnivores, for human hunters usually target the big strong “trophy” animals, whereas natural predators select out the weak. Plus, the mere presence of top predators keeps herbivores more alert and healthy and less prone to congregating in and over-browsing sensitive habitats. (Source: John Davis, Wrong to Kill Coyotes, Wolves and CoyWolves | Essex on Lake Champlain)
John’s full article warrants a read. Just use the link in the citation above. And I will sit down with him soon (soonish?) for a one-on-one “Coyote Q&A” in the hopes of fleshing out his perspective and following up on your feedback. Please reach out with questions, etc. in the comments below or via social media.
By way of ellipsis until I post the “Coyote Q&A”, my personal experience is one of wonder and gratitude for our resident coyotes. They keep the deer population healthy and balance the rodent and rabbit populations (effectively reducing Lyme disease risks). And their song is the Adirondack anthem I savor when I’m in Essex and miss when I’m away.
Coyote Haikus
Frequent photographs from our trail cams document the healthy population of wild canines calling our fields and forests home. Although abundant, the familiar faces greeting us in photos win us over again and again. And sometimes inspiration strikes in the form of a coyote haiku. Or two.
I admit to feeling a certain romance for these wild distant cousins to the Labrador retrievers we have owned. I’m not blind to the challenges they pose for farmers, but there is an increasingly robust and reliable body of scientific research that can help guide sustainable agriculture in concert with coyotes and other apex predators. It’s high time that we learn to live together with our wild neighbors.
Coyote Photos
The following photographs of Eastern Coyote were recorded with our trail cameras and have been shared over social media.
Meet our Yellow Garden Spider (Argiope aurantia). This morning this awesome arachnid greeted me from a flower bed planted with Shasta daisies, lupine, and irises. She’s dazzling and, I’ll admit it, a little daunting.
Although I’ve come across these visually impressive pest predators before I needed a little refresher. Here’s what I found.
Yellow garden spiders are large, orb-weaving arachnids, meaning they spin a circular web… In females, the top side of the abdomen is black with symmetrical patches of bright yellow. The legs are reddish brown at the base and black toward the tips. Males are less striking in appearance—they are smaller with brownish legs and less yellow coloration on their abdomens. Females average 0.75 to 1.1 inches (19 to 28 millimeters) in body length, which is up to three times larger than the males. (Source: National Wildlife Federation)
Obviously a female, this yellow garden spider was definitely on the laaarge end of the spectrum.
If you look closely you’ll see a zigzag pattern woven into the web. I wondered about that. A repair?
The web of the garden spider contains a highly visible zigzagging X-shaped pattern called a stabilimentum. The exact function of the stabilimentum is unknown, but its purpose may be to alert birds to the presence of the web so that they don’t fly through and destroy it by mistake. (Source: National Wildlife Federation)
Wow! Clever spider.
By Any Other Name…
It turns out this savvy lady has intrigued her bipedal admirers enough to inspire a parade of names (Source: Wikipedia) including:
yellow garden spider,
black and yellow garden spider,
golden garden spider,
writing spider,
zigzag spider,
hay spider,
corn spider, and
McKinley spider.
I think that my favorite is “writing spider”. Time for a little etymological archaeology to disinter the backstory for that name. 
Lest your onboard warning system went into high alert when your eyes distinguished the yellow garden spider from the iris spears and other distractions in the photograph above, I have some good news.
These spiders may bite if disturbed or harassed, but the venom is harmless to non-allergic humans, roughly equivalent to a bumblebee sting in intensity. (Source: Wikipedia)
While few of us favor a bumblebee sting over, say, a slice of refreshing watermelon on a hot August day, it’s far from lethal (for most of us, anyway). So, despite the yellow garden spiders arresting appearance, you may consider her a friend rather than a foe. Especially if you’d like to prevent pesky insects from eating your plants!
I close with a curious coincidence. A neighboring farmer shared his discovery almost concurrently. They. Are. Everywhere.
