Moving, Again

Anoplius aethiops female speeding along with wolf spider cargo, Cape May, New Jersey

Almost ten years ago, back at the end of September, 2011, I relocated from Tucson, Arizona to my current city of residence, Colorado Springs, Colorado. Now, my wife and I are in the process of purging and packing to move to Leavenworth, Kansas. We are doing so voluntarily, as this has nothing to do with the federal penitentiary. Her parents live in Leavenworth.

I do love my in-laws, but I’m not sure I’m keen about a town that is all about prisons, the military (Fort Leavenworth), and churches. I’ve visited plenty of times, and it does have its charm (weekly farmers’ market, a couple nice coffee shops, and a handful of good restaurants), but at least we are not far from Kansas City (both of them).

What is truly exciting is that for the first time since my childhood, I’ll be back in an actual house, complete with front and back yards. The neighborhood is classic residential, so it remains to be seen how far we can go in rewilding our little lot without objections. There is a detached garage that I hope is full of spiders. We can see the “big house” from our house, the dome looming almost literally across the street behind us. There is a bison herd that grazes on the grounds there. No, seriously.

Meanwhile, I have developed chronic respiratory problems independent of Covid-19. Doctors are still trying to assess the cause, but it seems to be home grown, as I breathe fine everywhere but inside our townhouse. I have my theories, but I have plenty of speculative help on social media trying to solve the mystery. We do know my lungs are perfectly healthy. The problem appears to be getting a proper volume of air in and out of them without breaking into a coughing fit. I’ve been sleeping mostly upright in our recliner, and not all that well.

These bronchial issues have also halted my ability to publicize the Wasps book via interviews. I simply don’t have the endurance to talk very long. Hoping that improves drastically once we move, as I have interest from some stellar podcasts. Please see the sidebar on this blog for a promo code you can use for a discount when you buy the book from the publisher.

Leavenworth is on the Missouri River, and represents more or less an ecotone of where the Great Plains meets the eastern deciduous forest, heavily compromised by agriculture. It is hilly rather than the flat fly-over stereotype. Looking at range maps in my field guides, this intersection of Kansas-Missouri-Nebraska-Iowa is a veritable “black hole” where geographic ranges for various species abruptly stop. Everything is farther south, farther north, farther east, or farther west. This can’t be for real, and I’m anxious to see what really does live there.

We do see road trips in our future, but probably parceled-out rather sparingly, and no doubt dictated by the locations and interests of extended family.

Yes, my wife is more optimistic, and less of a sporadic nomad, than I am. I usually enter a new residence with enthusiasm that is eventually worn down by politics, sprawl, and other disappointments, so maybe the reverse will happen this time. Maybe we could start a nature center. Maybe I could find a partner and open a comedy club. Hey, the place could use a little….”levity.”

Shoot First, Ask Questions Later

Shoot it with a camera or your phone, though. Yesterday I once again found myself grateful for having paid attention to something I could have easily dismissed. Nothing bad can ever come from taking a moment to take a second look, and recording that observation whenever possible.

© Gary Larson via Pinterest

As a volunteer expert on social media, I cannot count the times someone has begun their post in an insect identification group with "I don't have an image, but...." I am tempted to start replying "Well, I don't have an answer, but...." I would never do that. I enjoy a good mystery too much, and believe in rewarding curiosity and a desire to learn.

There is still no substitute for a clear image of the creature you would like identified, and increasingly there is no excuse. Smart phones can now take professional-grade images that only dedicated cameras could manage a few minutes ago. You are forgiven if you had other priorities at the time, like eating, being engaged in an important conversation, or in a business meeting, for example.

The situation I am referring to is when you are out observing wild things anyway, and you still decide not to bother recording something. This is a failure I am occasionally guilty of, too, but I am working to rectify it. It gets worse the more you think you know, the more you think you recognize a specimen without close inspection.

A male Variegated Meadowhawk dragonfly

Yesterday I visited the Pueblo Reservoir Wildlife Area west and north of Lake Pueblo State Park in Colorado, thanks to my friend Tim Leppek who has been there many times and knows the area well. As is our custom, we made scant horizontal progress over several hours of walking along the mostly dry basin and channel. Dragonflies were still in abundance, mostly meadowhawks in the genus Sympetrum, as they persist late into autumn.

A male Striped Meadowhawk dragonfly

One dragonfly stood out, its wings shimmering more brightly than the others. I almost dismissed it as a teneral specimen, one that had just recently emerged as an adult, with mature adult pigments yet to manifest themselves. It flew relatively weakly as well, which is also typical of newly-minted adult odonates. I took a picture anyway, in the harsh afternoon sun, then reviewed the image on my camera screen and reacted "what the..??" I looked up from my camera and the crystal phantom was nowhere to be seen.

Fast forward to after I returned home, and began looking in my dragonfly books. There were no obvious photo matches in any of them. The closest approach was a female Bleached Skimmer, Libellula composita, the name alone being most appropriate considering how bright the thing was in the field. Looking online I finally managed to find a couple of images of that species, and that gender, that did match.

The female Bleached Skimmer

The Bleached Skimmer is well known from southeast Colorado, with records from Weld, Kiowa, Prowers, Bent, and Pueblo counties. The first specimen dates to July 11, 1991 in Lincoln County. The one from yesterday may represent the latest date for the species in Colorado, but I'll have to check with all the relevant authorities to know for sure.

Think about what you might be overlooking, and look again. Devote a few pixels to it. Share it. Maybe it is something common and well known in your area. There is no shame in redundancy if that is the case. Eventually, something you spot won't be common or well known, at least in your location, and your observation will be greeted with great appreciation by the scientific community.

Results of the Red Rock Canyon Open Space Bioblitz

View of Pikes Peak from eastern edge of Red Rock Canyon Open Space

Last Friday through Sunday, July 19-21, scientists and citizen scientists descended on one of the most popular recreation sites in Colorado Springs, Colorado: Red Rock Canyon Open Space. The goal was to find as many species of living things as possible in that short time period, and I dare say that we exceeded expectations.

Melissa Blue butterfly

Red Rock Canyon was the first Open Space to be dedicated in Colorado Springs, purchased by the city back in 2003. It took ten years to complete the master plan for the 1,474 acre area. It includes an abandoned quarry, a couple of small reservoirs, and several habitats, from dense coniferous forests in its upper reaches to shortgrass prairie and meadows on the lower slopes and plateaus. It is perhaps better known for its extinct animal life, preserved as fossils in the stone outcrops and uplifts, than it is for what lives there now.

Mule Deer drinking in the evening

Hiking, trail running, horseback riding, rock climbing, and limited mountain biking are all favorite activities for humans who frequent the park. This heavy activity usually presents conflicts with those trying to observe wildlife, but animals in the park are now so adapted to people traffic that the deer all but say "excuse me" as they hustle past you to get a drink at one of the reservoirs.

© Heidi EatonA male Blue-eyed Darner dragonfly over one of the reservoirs

When I first proposed the idea of doing a single bioblitz to then-TOPS (Trails, Open Spaces and Parks Program) Manager Chris Leiber back in 2016, he envisioned the event at Red Rock Canyon. That proposal morphed into four bioblitzes at other Open Spaces in celebration of the twentieth anniversary of TOPS in 2017. Finally, we come full circle.

Red-tailed Hawk circling over a meadow

Colorado Springs has endured an unusually wet, cool spring and early summer, making for lush vegetation, but a relative dearth of insect life. Wildflower blooms this year have been short, sporadic, and far-flung, the distances between clumps of flowers greater than normal. The cool weather turned immediately into a heat wave of 90-plus degrees, punctuated with near daily afternoon thunderstorms, and that is what we faced for the bioblitz.

A male Ten-lined June Beetle, Polyphylla decemlineata, one of the first arrivals at the blacklight

Thankfully, we had a dry, hot night Friday night (July 19) on which to do blacklighting for moths and other insects, and it was epic.

© Heidi EatonBlacklighting before it got intense

We had three stations, two featuring bright mercury vapor lights to draw insects from farther distances, and one that was outfitted "only" with an ultraviolet (UV) light. All three stations were humming with activity and no two people saw the same insects and arachnids.

A female Spotted Pine Sawyer, Monochamus clamator at the blacklight

During the day, participants fanned out from "base camp" under a pavilion near the reservoirs to explore the surrounding landscape. One of our entomologists, Rose Ludwig, made an exceptional discovery when she took photos of a small, male clearwing moth on Saturday. She revisited the same location on Sunday and got images of the female.

© Rose LudwigMale Carmenta wildishorum clearwing moth

All our images and observations were recorded in an iNaturalist project, and there was immediate interest in Rose's find. It turns out to be a Colorado state record for Carmenta wildishorum, a species described only two years ago from specimens taken in New Mexico.

©Rose LudwigFemale Carmenta wildishorum clearwing moth

Tim Leppek, Aaron Driscoll, Kaya Woodall, Debbie Barnes-Shankster, Bill Shankster, Heidi Eaton, and myself added even more observations of various arthropods to complement the work of botanists, mammologists, birders, and mycologists.

Three-banded Grasshopper, Haddrotettix trifasciatus, a surprising find

With the results of mammal and fungi experts still pending, we have already amassed a stunning 481 taxa (classifications ranging from family-level to species-level) for less than three full days of exploration. Many family designations include more than one genus or species, so numbers are likely to increase as more specific identifications are made. Still, not every genus or species can be identified from images alone. The mushroom experts will be doing detailed DNA work to arrive at their conclusions, for example.

Male sand wasp, Steniolia elegans

The Red Rock Canyon Open Space bioblitz concluded appropriately when the volunteer organizer, Sharon Milito, was presented with a Spirit of the Springs Celebration Award by Mayor John Suthers. Sharon has become a great friend and mentor over the last three years, and without her we would not have bioblitzes and I would not have gotten to visit Jimmy Camp Creek Park and Corral Bluffs Open Space, parcels that are not yet open to the public. I cannot think of anyone more deserving of this honor.

An owlet moth, Xestia bolteri, from the blacklight

Please do check out the iNaturalist project page, hyperlinked a couple paragraphs back, to see the full results of this undertaking. I wish to thank Bell Mead, and Renee McDougal for facilitating involvement of the Mile High Bug Club in all the bioblitzes, and managing our club's booth at base camp.

Tree Swallow fledgling waiting to be fed

My Kind of Fourth of July

While most folks enjoy fireworks spectacles and flag-waving on Independence Day here in the United States, I would rather turn on our backyard blacklight and see what comes to visit. The neighbors did have some surprisingly professional-looking explosions, albeit they are illegal here in the city of Colorado Springs. I did my best to tune-out the loud noise.

Ruddy-winged Dart, Euxoa mimallonis

The U.S. was founded by immigrants, and has prospered from ethnic, racial, and cultural diversity, though we seem to frown on "minorities" in our present political climate. Here under my ultraviolet light, I see plenty of biological diversity, a melting-pot of insects that makes the ecosystem run even more efficiently than capitalism fuels our economy. One cannot help but observe the similarities, though the niches in ecosystems are filled by a variety of species while niches in the economy are occupied by only one: Homo sapiens.

White miller caddisfly, Nectopsyche sp.

Nature does not recognize villains or criminals or classes or any other structure relevant to our human societies. Every species is equal, adapting as it is able to constantly-changing conditions of climate, habitat, and competition from other species. Yes, some immigrant insects do compete with native species for the same "job" in the ecosystem, that much is obvious.

Damsel bug, Nabis sp., with leafhopper prey

While some insects do come to the blacklight to prey on other insects, most coexist peacefully under the purple glow. Occasionally one will blunder into another, causing both animals to run erratically or fly abruptly, only to quickly settle again without armed conflict or undue protest. Still other insects make a brief appearance, flirting with my desire to take their picture. Sometimes I get the shot, often I do not.

Crambid moth, Pyrausta insequalis

Every color of the rainbow has arrived. White is among the rarest. There is green, red, yellow, orange, black, brown....There are plain, monochrome bugs, and those with patterns too intricate to imagine. The moths often lose their colors as the night wears on, the scales on their wings lost with each wingbeat, each collision with the abrasive netting protecting the blacklight, each collision with another insect. It does not hamper their flight in the least.

Ant-mimicking plant bug, Pilophorus sp.

This one night, our celebration of America's birthday, may also be an insect's final fling, its days as an adult all too brief, just long enough to find a mate and reproduce. Some moths flourish for only a week at most, sometimes even more briefly. They have spent the bulk of their lives as caterpillars, larvae that are feeding-and-growing machines. At the end of that worm-like stage they transform into the pupa. Apparently inert on the outside, the pupa is a frenzy of internal reorganization as cells are re-purposed, some genes are turned off, and other genes turned on. It is a microcosm of a rapidly-changing economy with employees re-trained, whole new industries born, with all the promise of positive change each would suggest.

Delphacid planthopper, Bostaera nasuta

Has my blacklight beacon derailed the destinies of these insects? Some will surely be diverted from their procreative goals, from their foraging missions if they feed as adults. I make a point of turning the light off before I, myself, turn in, to give the insects a chance to resume their lives without distraction, though in a city full of lights they may well end up concentrated at the neighbor's porch light, or a streetlight up the boulevard. It is a hazard of urban living for those insects that reside in cities.

Green lacewing, family Chrysopidae

At last the auditory noise has abated, and the attractiveness of the blacklight has reached a point of diminishing returns. I must sleep, and it will only be four or five hours until the sun peeks over the eastern horizon to put an end to the nocturnal adventures of these tiny arthropods. The summer days are long, the nights brief, and insects must make the most of that narrow window of darkness. The day shift will begin, and niches will transfer ownership accordingly. There is no timecard to punch, but there are no holidays, either, no middle management, just life, pulsing as it will.

Borids Are Not Bor-ing

Well, that will teach me to never go anywhere without a vial or other appropriate vessel for containing a live insect. It is impossible to know when you will be presented with an unusual or rare species, so best to be prepared. A case in point occurred on Saturday, April 20, while I was manning the booth for the Mile High Bug Club at the Earth Day expo in Garden of the Gods Park here in Colorado Springs.

Lecontia discicollis, 12-23 millimeters

We had erected a canopy over our table, and at one point I noticed the shadow of a beetle atop the white tarpaulin. I did not think much of it initially, but curiosity got the better of me and I went to inspect it. I am not a tall person, so all I could manage, even on my tip-toes, was a vague, rear perspective of the insect. It was enough to convince me this was something interesting, so I grabbed the beetle. It was shiny black, and slippery thanks to its convex, bullet-like shape.

Mile High Bug Club booth

A closer examination left me stumped. It reminded me of a bark-gnawing beetle in the family Trogossitidae, but those are highly agile and usually at least slightly iridescent or metallic. This beetle was jet black and decidedly slow-moving. Meanwhile, the antennae were bead-like and reminiscent of a darkling beetle (family Tenebrionidae). Few tenebrionids are so narrow-bodied, though, and those exposed jaws suggested it was something else.

Bark-gnawing beetle, Temnoscheila sp., Colorado

I had not packed any kind of container with me, even though I knew our booth would be in the visitor center parking lot. It has been a long winter and cool, slow, spring, so I wasn't expecting to see any insects.

I racked my brain for potential solutions. Ah, a little ziplock baggie I have my business cards in! Oops, so old it has a gaping hole in it. Now what? I pawed through the compartment in my backpack and managed to find a case for eyeglasses, which thankfully shuts tight enough to hold an invertebrate. In goes the beetle.

EBCD: Emergency Beetle Containment Device

Back home, I take a closer look and start leafing through my beetle books. Still scratching my head I look at all things related, even remotely, to darkling beetles. Lo and behold, I turned to an illustration that looked pretty much identical to my specimen. Above the drawing I read "Boridae," and "Family common name: The conifer bark beetles." Never heard of them. That is how diverse beetles are. Entire families can escape your attention.

Anyone hearing "bark beetle" assumes the creature in question is some type of forest pest, but many kinds of beetles associated with the trunks of trees have been assigned some derivative of "bark beetle," and almost none of them are the least bit destructive. That appears to be the case here, too, but we have a collective void of knowledge about borids.

The base of the antenna is concealed by a ridge, a helpful identification character

Consulting several references, I could find little information. The family is obscure enough that several books did not even include them, or were of sufficient vintage that the family did not yet exist. Previously, borids had been part of the Salpingidae (narrow-waisted bark beetles). Most other information I could excavate amounted to "found under bark on conifers." It seems these beetles also like their trees baked. Ok, singed. Fine, they are basically drawn to charred timber, three to five years after a fire.

Once I had the specimen in the right family, identifying the genus and species was easy. There are only two genera, with one species each, found north of Mexico. The one in my hand was Lecontia discicollis.

I turned to Facebook, in particular the group "Friends of Coleoptera at the Natural History Museum [London]," for more help. The resulting discussion included this shared passage from Pollock (2010) in the Handbook of Zoology, Coleoptera vol. II (Leschen, Beutel & Lawrence, eds.):

"Relatively little is known, or at least published, on the habits and habitats of members of Boridae....Larvae of Lecontia discicollis are also associated with dead conifers, and seemingly are restricted to moist decayed areas in the root system of standing trees killed by fire or bark beetles (Young et al. 1996)."

Another colleague added "Lecontia discicollis is not rare if you know how to find them. Fairly common in the Black Hills [South Dakota] in and around fire killed 8-15 year old Ponderosa pine, 3-5 years after death. Larvae in soft and moist white-rotted wood near and below ground-level."

The consensus seems to be that these may be common beetles, but because they occupy such a narrow, extreme niche, you are not likely to see them very often. I will consider myself lucky, then.

Sources: Elliott, Lynette, et al. 2005. "Family Boridae - Conifer Bark Beetles," Bugguide.net
Evans, Arthur V. 2014. Beetles of Eastern North America. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press. 560 pp.
Pollock, Darren A. 2002. "Boridae" in Arnett, Ross H., Michael C. Thomas, Paul E. Skelley, and J. Howard Frank. American Beetles volume 2. Boca Raton: CRC Press. pp. 534-536.

Happy Holidays and What Lies Ahead

Work, work, activism. That is what Bug Eric has been up to lately, and mostly what the immediate future holds in store. I just added a new page to this blog, though, and can share with you some upcoming events near and far that you might want to be aware of in 2019. Happy New Year!

Guava Skipper from Lower Rio Grande Valley in Texas, demonstrating the "rule of thirds" in photography

My good friend Nancy Miorelli created a wonderful handout on how to take great images of insects and arachnids with your smartphone. You can find that document under the tab above, entitled "Take Great Bug Pics." Many of the tips she gives also apply to photography in general, so please check it out. Nancy is an outstanding science communicator, gifted artist, and tour guide if you ever want to visit her in Ecuador.

Specimens awaiting my attention....

Right now I am busy identifying all manner of arthropods, from insects to spiders to millipedes and woodlice and amphipods from pitfall trap samples taken in Miami, Florida. This is part of a nationwide project funded by a National Science Foundation grant and there are more stakeholders than I can count. Once the results are compiled, I'll let you know the outcome. Meanwhile, what are snails doing in here....

You'll only see the Mexican Bluewing along the Lower Rio Grande Valley in Texas

The continuing saga of the border wall, especially in the Lower Rio Grande Valley of south Texas, is a nightmare for those of us who value not only the rights of global citizens to seek asylum from violence and abuse in their countries of origin, but for the wildlife and ecology of this unique region. The National Butterfly Center in Mission, Texas has become the center of the storm, both figuratively and literally. I urge you to visit their website to understand what is at stake, and to see updates to the travesty that is unfolding and how you can act to stop it. This has ceased to be about politics and has become a situation of wanton destruction and abuse of power.

A lovely native sweat bee, Agapostemon sp.

Locally, the Mile High Bug Club just announced the formation of a chapter in Denver, Colorado (club headquarters are in Colorado Springs). Mark your calendars for the kickoff, on Sunday, February 10, at 6 PM (to 8 PM), at Highlands Event Center, 3401 W. 29th Ave., Denver, 80211. Chapter founder Ryan Bartlett will be giving a presentation on native bees for your entertainment and education. Watch this blog for announcements of other events, including a behind-the-scenes visit to the Butterfly Pavilion in Westminster.

Buprestis langii, a type of jewel beetle

I will be giving a presentation about "Colorful Colorado....Beetles!" for the Aiken Audubon Society at Bear Creek Nature Center in Colorado Springs on Wednesday, March 20, 2019, 7-9 PM. This should be a nice preview for the Mile High Bug Club's annual tiger beetle hunt, which usually takes place in April at Lake Pueblo State Park, dates and times to be announced.

Pleasing Fungus Beetles

Additionally, Denver, Boulder, Ft. Collins, Golden, and Colorado Springs are participating in the 2019 City Nature Challenge. The event is like a bioblitz, with participating individuals taking images of plants, animals, fungi, and other organisms April 26-29, and then uploading the observations to iNaturalist where experts will help identify them, April 30-May 5. The event started several years ago as a challenge between Los Angeles and San Francisco and has now grown to a global scale. Check the website to find out if your city is participating.

Birds are ok....except when they eat the bugs!

The Pikes Peak Birding and Nature Festival will celebrate its fifth anniversary from Friday evening, May 17-Sunday afternoon, May 19. Please consider attending to visit some of our more spectacular natural wonders, view local specialties like Black-billed Magpie,and check out the blacklighting for moths, presented by Mile High Bug Club. MHBC will also have a table at the "Birds and Brews" social event Saturday night, May 18. All field trips will originate in Colorado Springs.

Come "mothing" with Mile High Bug Club© Amanda Accamando

The Los Angeles County Museum of Natural History will be hosting its ever-popular Bug Fair, also the weekend of May 18-19. The museum regularly breaks attendance records with this shindig. I may make an appearance to sign copies of Insects Did it First and the Kaufman field guide, as well as promote Mile High Bug Club to a larger audience. It is well worth the visit despite the crowds. One year I met Dominic Monaghan of Lost fame. You never know who you might run into....

White Peacock butterfly from Lower Rio Grande Valley, Texas

I will try and resolve to put up more posts here in 2019 than I did in 2018, but I make no promises. What are your resolutions for the new year? I hope they include continuing to explore, be it a new state, province, or country, or even a local park or your backyard. There are so many discoveries still awaiting us. You might be the one to find something new or shed new light on the familiar.

Thankful For Small Wonders

On Thanksgiving day I usually make a pilgrimage to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, where my wife works as a keeper of orangutans, gorillas, Golden Lion Tamarins, and related primates. Thursdays are part of her regular work schedule, but at least the zoo's grill caters lunch for the staff and their families on the holiday. The rest of the day I do an informal mini-bioblitz looking for uncaged wildlife, mostly insects and spiders, of course. You would be surprised by what you can find in late November.

Convergent Lady Beetle

With all the press about a very legitimate "insect apocalypse," it does me good to get out and realize there still is a respectable degree of arthropod diversity, at least for now, and despite heavy human impacts. Last Thursday I managed to find over thirty (30) species of insects and spiders in casual searching, mostly on fences where it is easier to spot small organisms that are otherwise well-camouflaged or esconced in nooks and crannies and cracks and crevices.

Gall midge, a type of fly

Right now there is a good deal of major construction happening on zoo grounds, so there is upheaval of normally static habitats. The zoo is located on a mountainside, the landscape remaining largely natural with mixed coniferous trees, an understory of Gambel's Oak, chokecherry, and various wildflowers and herbs and grasses, most of them native. Yes, there are fruit trees and various exotic flora planted for visual pleasure, and a butterfly garden designed to attract the more colorful insects found in the region, but mostly the place has a very natural look.

Jumping plant louse, Cacopsylla pararibesiae

Zoos do not like to publicize the native fauna found on their grounds because in some instances non-captive animals can transmit diseases to the vulnerable captive animals. This is cause for both veterinary concern as well as potential disciplinary action by the Association of Zoos and Aquariums, the organization responsible for issuing accreditation to zoos for adherence to basic professional standards. This is certainly understandable, but most native animals seen at zoos are birds, sometimes squirrels, and, overwhelmingly, insects. Zoos that fail to acknowledge and embrace those local creatures are doing a disservice to visitors.

Ichneumon wasp

It bears repeating to say that "biodiversity begins at home," and demonstrating how visitors can promote biodiversity on their own property should be a priority at zoos and botanical gardens. That can take the form of a butterfly garden, brush pile, a drilled block of wood that functions as a "bee condo" for solitary bees, or a small water feature to service birds and aquatic insects. You should probably take this only as far as hummingbird feeders, at least here in Colorado where bears and other dangerous wildlife will take full advantage of any food you offer to other kinds of birds, squirrels, and even your own pets. It is in fact a violation of law to feed wildlife.

Flat bark bug, family Aradidae

Simple signage can do a lot to inform zoo guests about the local ecosystems and the role of various animals in maintaining them. Indeed, there are placards around the zoo that do address pollinating insects, bark beetles, etc. It is a start, and something other zoos should emulate as it applies to their own unique macro-fauna.

Ant-mimic spider, Castianeira sp.

Besides the "bugs" themselves, I am grateful for citizen science and social media outlets where I can share images of what I find, and hopefully encourage others to follow suit on their next visit to the zoo, city park, community garden, or even their own backyard. At this time of year, even a bioblitz in your shed or garage or basement can turn up a surprising variety of life forms. Just don't tell your spouse or your mom if they have hostile inclinations toward uninvited animals.

Seed bug, family Lygaeidae

I post regularly to iNaturalist, and occasionally to Facebook....and I need to get back to Project Noah. Whether you know a cockroach from a carpet beetle or a butterfly from a moth, no matter. Share what you observe. Others will help you learn about the critter in question. You may even find something previously unknown to your neck of the woods, to your state, province, or even new to science altogether. There is no end to the discoveries that await you.

A small dung beetle, Scarabaeidae: Aphodiinae

A Couple of Weirdos

My last post here focused on the joys of National Moth Week, but what I neglected to mention was the added benefit of other insects being attracted to blacklights. Sometimes you get strange and significant surprises at your ultraviolet beacon. This is the story of two of those.

Clown beetle, Ulkeus intricatus, from Chico Basin Ranch

During our first moth week event at Chico Basin Ranch on July 21, we were all taking images of the moths that were drawn to our lights. There were plenty of other insects, too, like true bugs, flies, even a few wasps, plus lacewings, antlions, and beetles. I tried to document most everything, but it was not until I began editing my pictures that I noticed something spectacularly wierd. In one corner of an image of a moth was a beetle I recognized instantly as a "clown beetle" in the family Histeridae, but it had strange flanges on its legs and was a lot more bristly and "groovy" than the usual hister beetle.

It was reddish in color, too, while nearly all other clown beetles are jet black. I was aware that some clown beetles are found only in association with ants, and so I began looking at various species in the subfamily Hetaeriinae. Sure enough, up popped Ulkeus intricatus as the most likely suspect.

Legionary ants, Neivamyrmex sp., hosts of the clown beetle

So, now I begin researching this species, or at least the genus, to find out what its life history is like. It turns out that it is found only in the company of legionary ants in the genus Neivamyrmex, which makes things stranger still. Legionary ants are in a group of ants that includes army ants. They are nomadic, and mostly nocturnal, raiding the nests of other ants to prey on the larvae and pupae. This explains why the beetle was flying just after sunset: It was looking for a party of legionary ants and got distracted by our UV lights.

Exactly what the beetle does with, or to, the ants is largely unknown. My references say that the beetles are "guests" of the ants, which could mean anything from mutualism to kleptoparasitism (mutually beneficial relationship versus stealing the ant's food), or something else entirely. Exactly how the beetle would complete its life cycle if its host has no nest raises questions, too, though Neivamyrmex colonies are known to be sedentary over the winter.

Male legionary ants like this one fly to lights at night, too

There are six recognized species in the genus Ulkeus in the U.S., collectively ranging from North Carolina and Tennessee to Florida and west to Texas and Arizona. Five of those species are yet to be named and described, so I may be jumping the gun to assign a species to this one, especially since I never saw the thing let alone collected it. For all I know it is a seventh species.

Braconid wasp, Chrysopophthorus americanus

My wife and I put out a blacklight near Lyons, Colorado on July 22, despite cool and damp conditions, and among the many insects that flew in was a small, ghostly-looking wasp. I recognized that it was probably a member of the family Braconidae, wasps parasitic on other insects, but was baffled after that. Thankfully, there is Bugguide.net, and I started browsing the images to see if anyone else had recorded this wasp and, if so, was it identified.

Lo and behold, there it was, identified as Chrysopophthorus americanus. That almost never happens, being able to get a species identification that way. What's more, I learned that this wasp is a parasite of adult green lacewings (Neuroptera: Chrysopidae). Talk about a specialized niche. Since lacewings are often attracted to lights, it stands to reason that their parasites would be, too. Apparently the female wasp inserts her egg into the abdomen of the lacewing. The larva that hatches then feeds as an internal parasite inside the lacewing, eventually exiting to pupate.

Those beautiful emerald eyes!

What a wacky couple of "bugs." That is what I love about entomology, and natural history in general: You never know where one observation is going to take you, how one species intertwines with others....It is supposed to be a mild night here on October 21 and I am half-tempted to put the sheet and the blacklight out.

Sources: Caterino, Michael S. and Alexey K. Tishechkin. 2009. "A New North American Genus of Hetaeraiinae (Coleoptera: Histeridae), with Descriptions of Six New Species from the U.S.A. and Mexico," Zootaxa, 2311: 1-18.
Maxwell, John R., et al. 2008. "Species Chrysopophthorus americanus," Bugguide.