Photos of the Week – October 9, 2026

My adult son has been giving me a hard time for several days about when I’m finally going to post again. I want to be clear that I’m posting this today because I want to, not because of his pestering. You hear me, John? This has nothing to do with you.

I hope you like the photos, though.

We’re nine days into October but local prairies are still buzzing. It’s getting harder to find blooming wildflowers, but when you do, hoo boy, are they getting a lot of attention from local wildlife. As flowers diminish in number, seeds take their place. That’s kind of how it works. Seed production happens all summer, of course, because various flower species bloom and make seeds on a staggered schedule across the season. In the fall, though, seed heads really take center stage.

I was at our family prairie last week and was pleased to see that recent rains had filled our pond/wetland. I haven’t seen water in it for what seems like several years. I expected to see a bunch of dragonflies hanging around, but I mainly saw damselflies, which was also just fine. I hung out with one specific damselfly for a while as the sun set and photographed it through the changing light…

The katydid below has gone through a rough patch, it appears. It is missing one and a half of its legs on its right side. On the one hand, that might be why it sat so nicely for me while I photographed it. On the other hand, if I’d recently lost a couple legs, I think that would make me less trusting and more likely to skedaddle – even awkwardly – when something large approached. Either way, I’m glad it survived whatever traumatic event it went through.

Katydid with 4.5 legs
Tall thistle seeds (Cirsium altissimum)
Tall thistle seed caught on a stem

Some of the most abundant insects around right now are drone flies. I think most of what I’m seeing are yellow-shouldered drone flies, which, as far as I can tell, are not a migratory species. There are other drone fly species that do migrate, though, and we still have a lot to learn about migratory flies, so who knows, maybe we just haven’t caught yellow-shouldered drone flies at it yet. What I do know is that they’re very abundant in our backyard prairie – but also in every other prairie I’ve visited recently.

Drone fly on heath aster in my backyard.
Another drone fly on heath aster.
A different fly on sideoats grama (still in my backyard).

Heath aster and stiff goldenrod are the last two native wildflowers blooming in our nascent backyard prairie garden. Nascent is the kind of word I like to throw in now and then to prove I’m literate. Literate and sophisticated are different things, though. Sophisticated people don’t write dumb quizzes. I assume. They probably don’t think the word “booger” is funny, either, which proves there’s more to life than being sophisticated.

Anyway, drone flies, sweat bees, wasps, moths, butterflies, and beetles have all been descending upon those last wildflowers in our yard. It’s been a few days now since I’ve seen a bumblebee, which I just realized as I started this paragraph. I wonder if their season is over or if they’re just going elsewhere for sustenance this week.

Stiff goldenrod is still blooming in our home prairie garden and drone flies seem to appreciate it.
This orange sulphur butterfly had to work hard to find space between flies.
Here’s a feather.

Insects like crickets, grasshoppers, and katydids are still playing their late season music. I’m going to miss that when it’s gone. Lots of all three were feeding on sunflower seeds (I assume) at the Platte River Prairies earlier this week.

Tree cricket at the Platte River Prairies
Katydid at the Platte River Prairies

I made a cool discovery in our yard yesterday. Most stink bugs feed on plants, but a few species are predatory. At least some of those predatory species have sharp points on their “shoulders”, which helps identify them as such. I’ve never been able to find or photograph a predatory stink bug with prey. That is, until this week, when I found two different ones within a few minutes of each other – right in my backyard. What a great surprise!

Stink bug (Podisus sp.) with a drone fly (of course).
A different individual of the same stink bug species with a male paper wasp.

I went out to Lincoln Creek Prairie briefly this morning and was surprised to find spittle bugs on pitcher sage. I don’t remember seeing them on that plant species before, but that doesn’t mean much. I did wonder, though, how they overwinter. Do they need to hurry up and finish feeding so they can pupate before winter? Or can they survive as larvae? I’ve never seen frozen spittle bug bubbles in the winter, but wouldn’t that be something?

Spittle bug bubbles on pitcher sage.

As happens every year, fall brings milkweed seeds and I’m unable to resist photographing them until everyone but me gets tired of looking at the photos. Here are just a few of the ones from this morning.

Milkweed seeds by themselves are pretty great, but I also found some insects on milkweed seeds and managed some photographs of those as well. I don’t think the mosquito was feeding on the milkweed seed, but I’m pretty sure the little bug was.

Mosquito roosting on milkweed seeds.
A bug (dirt-colored seed bug, I think) silhouetted against the sunrise on a milkweed seed.

This is the final paragraph of the post where I should write something that summarizes what I’ve covered so far. Or refer back to my introductory paragraph. I’m not going to do that this time.

Photos of the Week – September 30, 2026

Quick note: The Hubbard Fellowship application period has been extended through this coming weekend. Applications are now due at midnight on Sunday October 4. Click here to apply and please pass the word!

I was in north central Nebraska over the weekend because Kim was running the Cowboy 100 ultramarathon. She ran 100 miles in about 23 hours, getting third place among women and sixth place overall – a great race for her!

While she was running, I ended up finding an opportunity to photograph more monarch butterflies than the miles Kim ran. I stumbled upon a big roost just north of the town of Bassett, Nebraska. I was driving slowly down a dirt road and flushed a few butterflies from the tree line to my right. They flew up and then circled back to the tree they’d come from. Intriguing. When I stopped and looked more closely, I saw that there were hundreds of them in scattered groups along about 1/4 mile of trees. Most were high up in the branches, and the overcast skies made photography difficult, but I found a few groups I could capture images of during some brief periods of slightly brighter skies.

Monarchs fluttering their wings as one of their compatriots flew past.

I was particularly glad to find this roost because it’s more evidence of the value of this part of the world to monarchs. I feel like the Midwest and eastern U.S. gets most of the attention when it comes to monarch conservation efforts and funding. We should certainly spend money in that part of the country to improve habitat. However, further west in the Great Plains, there are tons of monarchs as well, both during breeding and migratory seasons. The numbers are underreported, largely because the human population is low and most of the landscape is privately-owned and not well-explored by people who count butterflies.

I made sure to report this roost and get another data point out there. As I shared the sighting with some local friends, I was told they were also seeing lots of monarchs coming through, both in their yards and on the ranches they work on. It shouldn’t be a surprise that the 12 million acres of Sandhills prairies (and the other 8 million acres of grassland in Nebraska) provide a lot of monarch butterfly habitat, but it’s apparently a story we need to keep telling people. So, here I am telling it.

A slightly wider view of that same group shown above.
An even wider view of the same group. I count 54 monarchs in this photo.

Apart from the monarch roost, I didn’t find many other photo opportunities during the day. It was dark and dreary and just breezy enough that things didn’t line up well for photography. Plus, of course, I had race obligations – I had to stay ahead of Kim and meet her at the various aid stations where I could fill her up on water and encouragement. I did stop and watch a little family of milkweed bugs feeding on some milkweed pods, though. I also wandered around and enjoyed seeing the sights without trying to photograph everything I saw.

Large milkweed bugs on common milkweed.

As the sun went down Saturday night, a large full (or close) moon rose from the opposite horizon. As it emerged, large and pink, I was helping Kim get back on the trail, but once she was on her way, I drove out of town and found a spot where I could take a few quick photos before it got too high.

Full moon, cottonwood tree, and a country road.

My next photo opportunity came at about 4 in the morning. I managed an hour or two of sleep (car camping) but kept waking up to check on Kim’s progress (online tracking tool). When it was clear I wasn’t going to sleep anymore, I stopped fighting it and drove up to a high point above the Niobrara River, where the full moon and rolling clouds of fog created some magical conditions for photography.

Ponderosa pines at the top of a ridge that dropped down to the Niobrara River (which was concealed by fog). The only light source was the moon.

I spent time photographing ponderosa pines silhouetted against the moonlit fog and, periodically, glimpses of the stars above. I also went out into the dew-covered prairie and silhouetted some grasses against the sky as well. Despite being sleep deprived, I was no longer feeling tired. I was totally consumed by beauty all around me and tried my best to capture some of it.

A few stars are visible above these pines but the fog closed that gap soon after I took the photo.
Pines, fog, and the moon.
More of the same.
Indiangrass and foggy moonlight.
A different patch of grass.

After Kim finished her race at about 7am, I had one more brief window of photography time and focused mostly on the thousands of dew-covered spiders and webs that were scattered along the Cowboy Trail.

Orb weaver (Larinia borealis)
Orb weaver (Larinia borealis)
A different species of orb weaver (Neoscona pratensis).
Spider silk and switchgrass.

Then it was time to head home so both Kim and I could catch up on sleep. I drove and Kim tried to doze while icing her ankle and trying to get her stomach to settle enough to eat some food. Ultramarathoners do this for fun…

A runner coming through the fog on Sunday morning, heading toward the distant finish line.

I’m mostly caught up on sleep now and Kim is already dreaming about future races. Fine with me! I’m happy to hand out dry socks, nutrition, and encouraging words now and then if I also get time to kick around some beautiful places with my camera. It’s also fun to see Kim do something she’s really good at, even if I think it stretches the definition of “fun” a little.

If you want to see a little video of the race Kim ran, check out this link. It’s a local news story featuring the Cowboy 200/100 ultramarathon. There’s video of Kim crossing the finish line right at the beginning of the clip and brief interviews of a few of the top runners trying to explain why they do what they do.