A few years ago, in the early stages of my wildlife garden, I planted my first Wafer Ash, or Common Hop Tree (Ptelea trifoliata). I was ecstatic about it, because I longed for Giant Swallowtail caterpillars to call it home (and dinner). These fun caterpillars are known for their characteristic bird-poop appearance, but the adult Giant Swallowtail stage is also spectacular — a gorgeous and very large yellow-and-black butterfly.
This year we had to transplant that now large Wafer Ash to the opposite side of the yard, and I feared that it wouldn’t survive. But amazingly enough it did, and we have our latest batch of bird-poop caterpillars. These little guys are making me so happy, and I really do feel at the moment like the garden has come full circle — I’m right back to seeing one the favorite fauna species I planted trees for all those years ago.
Wafer Ash is a small deciduous tree found in much of the eastern and southern areas of the United States and into Central America. Because it prefers part shade to shade for its light, it serves well as an understory tree. It earned its species name trifoliata for its characteristic three leaflets. Small white flowers in late spring give rise to wafer-like seeds come fall, hence one of its common names.
But Wafer Ash is not actually in the ash family at all — it’s actually part of the citrus family. In fact, lemon, orange, and other citrus trees can sometimes host these little caterpillars, too. I’ve definitely noticed that they much prefer the more tender leaves — I wonder whether the female butterfly actually selects them that way. In the wild, I can’t ever seem to find caterpillars on hop trees with bigger, darker leaves.
When these caterpillars take a rest, they are often found along the bark or branches of the tree, perhaps for camouflage or to simply avoid predators that might more easily locate them on the green leaves. As if that bird poop appearance isn’t enough to deter would-be munchers!
It being May in Texas now, this cool-season herb is overgrown in our garden and not as pretty as it once was. 
The blooms are giving way to seeds, but that’s not the problem. Aside from being long and lanky, much of it is now covered in aphids.
These pest bugs seem to suddenly show up by the hundreds, thanks to females that can produce live young without the presence of a male (when fall weather approaches, the females will produce males to allow the formation of eggs for overwintering). The aphids aren’t noticeably affecting the dill, but the tiny pests and plant legginess made me long to at the very least give the plant a good trim. But as soon as I took a closer look at the plant, I ceased the consideration of that idea — the dill is supporting a beautiful population of wildlife I do want.
The biggest are the Black Swallowtail caterpillars. Gorgeous, they are.
Lady beetles, popularly called ladybugs, dominated the rest of the dill. They are fierce consumers of aphids, and they have found quite the feast on my overgrown herbs.
Many male and female lady beetles have paired up, and “in the mood,” they’ve been busy.
Actually, the females didn’t really stop to mess around, so to speak. The one above, for example, kept eating aphid after aphid, regardless of the male attached to her.
The result of happy lady beetle love? Happy lady beetle eggs, and lots of them.
Here you can see both lady beetle eggs (the orange ovals) and lacewing eggs (the individually placed white eggs dangling from threads). I hope the lady beetle larvae emerge first and then skedaddle away before the voracious lacewing larvae arrive. But I’m not too worried, as there are plenty of aphids for them all.
Ladybug larvae are rather alien-like in appearance, but they are gentle little things — well, not to aphids.
Its softness isn’t just alluring to the touch — the velvety hairs and light blue-green color catch the light so subtly that the leaves almost beckon you to reach out with your fingertips. In fact, it can be so distracting that you almost have to refocus your eyes, as if viewing a stereogram, to look beyond the leaves to see what might actually be munching on them.
Other times, I found them along leaf edges, almost blending in with the light margins of the leaves.
My poor plant, formerly known as “quite large,” has very few leaves left on it! Now I have to worry about the little caterpillars running out of food. My babies!
