Nature weather folklore: Study a caterpillar, seed or squirrel

Even though we haven’t had even much cooler fall weather yet, one of my favorite insects has been working on the weather report for winter — the woollybear caterpillar.
I know most of my readers are familiar with this folklore already, but for those who aren’t, here is the story:
Woolybear caterpillars are the larval form of the Isabella Tiger Moth (Pyrrharctia Isabella) looks more like a living pipe cleaner (or as they say today fuzzy stick) on steroids. The bristly caterpillar (no, not one of the harmful hair ones) is festooned with black-and-rust-colored alternating pattern.
The prognostication of winter weather, folklore says, is related to the distribution of the amount of the colors, and the front vs. back end indicate when this weather will occur. Move over Tom Skilling, your work is done!
Legend says that the black color indicates a harsh winter, whereas the rust portion foretells mild winter conditions. And the length of the different colors and the front to back, indicate when all this weather will occur. So, what are these little lines of fuzz predicting for this year? It depends.
These little caterpillars elicit great excitement whenever I show them to kids and ask them to measure the amounts of black vs. rust. The verdict, very locally, at a few schools in Joliet, is mild. But don’t put away that snow shovel and road salt yet!
The Isabella Tiger Moth wants to keep you guessing. Even in one batch of eggs, the amounts of rust and black can be variable caterpillar to caterpillar. Also, caterpillars, like all insects, don’t go to Target to get a new outfit as they grow; they shed their skins. Genetics, food, age, and other factors can influence the patterning on this little weather person.
Isabella Tiger Moth caterpillars are widely distributed across the United States, Mexico and Canada. There are eight different species common to these areas. Besides the folklore, I find these caterpillars particularly fascinating, because Mother Nature prepared them for their overwintering stage; unlike other caterpillars that overwinter as cocoons here, the woolybear overwinters as a caterpillar.
I first noticed this in my own backyard when, as usual, I was doing fall clean up … in February. I lifted some hollyhock basal leaves off the ground, and there they were, the woolybears, curled up just like a fuzzy bunch of Cheerios.
Just as I mentioned in a previous column, woolybears use that amazing insect ability basically to almost freeze solid, changing their bloodlike body fluid (hemolymph) to propylene glycol — yep, antifreeze.
In the spring, they thaw, wake up and eat a bit; then pupate. There are two generations of woolybears per year: May and September.
So how did this weather forecasting folklore get started? Finding the beginning of folk tales is always complex, as many different people from many different areas can come up with similar ideas independently.
But what is know as far as popularizing the idea is actually rooted in science, limited science, but still science. In 1948, Dr. Howard Curren, an entomologist at the American Museum of Natural History did a research study. He collected 15 woolybears, measuring the lengths of the color patterns and concluded that a wider rust band indicated milder winters.
Just like today with much information, one of the biggest media sources of the day picked up the story, the New York Herald Press, and the idea spread nationally. So, what have subsequent studies — both official and anecdotal — don’t confirm this to be true. But it is fun to see if this year’s woolybears turn out to be more accurate than the high technology of the national meteorological services.
There are other nature folklore predictors, and one I just recently learned of a few years ago is the one related to the persimmon seed. Again, it is a legend passed down through the ages.
The story goes, if you take a persimmon fruit and cut the seed in half, you will see a white image of some shape (that is the kernel of next years plant). It is supposed to look like cutlery –a knife, spoon or fork.
If the image looks like a knife, it will mean that winter will be cold and icy and “cut like a knife.” If the spoon shape is found, it is supposed to be a sign of a winter with lots of snow. And if the shape is a fork, it is supposed to be a mild winter with just powdery light snow. Of course, it is essential to get a locally grown persimmon for the prediction to be “accurate.”
Persimmons used to be cultivated widely, but are more commonly found in the wild today. The American persimmon (Diospyros virginiana) you can usually find at farmers markets and in grocery stores, September through December.
Ripe persimmons are honey-flavored and delicious, but the trick is to find a truly ripe one. Underripe persimmons are extremely astringent and bitter. Wildlife, especially deer, love them. But even if you don’t eat them, why not see what kind of winter they predict this year?
Another point of winter folklore involves squirrels. Have you ever seen a squirrel nest? Now is a perfect time as the leaves fall from the trees. You will see a medium-TV-sized clump of leaves in the crotch of trees. A squirrel’s nest is called a drey.
What looks like just a glob of leaves is actually quite architectural. Squirrels weave twigs and branches in a strong crotch of a tree, and then create various layers with leaves, grasses, and other materials to create a suitable home to raise their young.
The folklore of winter related to squirrel nests is where the nest is located in the tree. If you see the drey low in the tree among heavy branches, expect a cold, difficult winter. But if the drey is high up in the tree in the more open canopy, get out the flip flops, a mild winter is predicted.
So shut off the TV, put down the phone and get outside to find out what the next season will bring!