That's Not an Ant?!

It is always best to avoid making assumptions about insects in the field. I was reminded of that on three seperate occasions this month, all of them involving mimicry of ants by small longhorned beetles in the family Cerambycidae. Early spring is apparently the season for these wood-boring insects, at least here in Kansas. Their resemblance to ants is uncanny, and highly convincing.

Cyrtophorus verrucosus

While exploring our yards and looking for insects on April 2, I noticed what I thought was a carpenter ant climbing on the exterior of our detached garage. I was about to dismiss it, but decided to document it anyway, as it would be new for the year. Imagine my surprise and delight to discover it was instead an adult Cyrtophorus verrucosus. This species has no common name, which is unfortunate given its uniqueness.

The beetle averages only 9 millimeters in body length. Larvae bore in a variety of host trees, including maple, hickory, oak, elm, birch, chestnut, dogwood, Eastern Redbud, American Beech, and even pine. The adult beetles are active from March to July, but are most abundant in early spring. Cyrtophorus verrucosus ranges over most of the eastern U.S., and Canada as far west as Alberta. This was a new species for our property.

I was invited to present the keynote address for a joint meeting of the Kansas Academy of Science, and Central States Entomological Society, in Wichita, Kansas on April 5, and Heidi and I stayed over to go exploring on Sunday, April 6. I reached out to a Facebook and iNaturalist friend, Ryan Philbrick, and we met at the Kansas Wildlife Exhibit in Central Riverside Park. From there we went to Keeper of the Plains, and walked the nice concrete trail along the Arkansas River. At one point, Ryan turned over a small, broken tree limb on the ground. He noticed millipedes and a small "ant" crawling over the bark.

Euderces pini

I trained my camera on the ant and discovered it was another species of longhorned beetle, Euderces pini. At only 7-8 millimeters, and slender, it is even more ant-like than other species. The larval host trees include Flowering Dogwood, Pecan, Winged Elm, and American Beech, but there are several other hardwoods on the menu.

The adult beetles are frequently found on flowers, feeding on pollen and nectar. Even dandelions will suffice until native trees start blooming. Euderces pini occurs in the southern half of the eastern United States, and appears as an adult from March to June.

Currant-tip Borer

Back home, yesterday, April 13, I happened to notice a small ant-like insect on the central air-conditioning unit in the back yard. It was even smaller than the other beetles, but at least it had a common name: the Currant-tip Borer, Psenocerus supernotatus.

Despite its name, this 4-millimeter beetle has been reared from plants other than currant: Green Hawthorn, Tulip Tree (aka Tulip Poplar, Yellow Poplar), and Black Willow. This beetle is widespread in North America, east of the Rocky Mountains, and the adults are found from April to June.

None of these three beetles are considered pests, maybe because they do not affect crops or orchard trees. Their earthtone colors make them rather cryptic, but they are quite active, running rapidly, and flying well.

An actual ant

It is interesting to note the convergence in body shape and coloration between the different genera. They each have white streaks or bars designed to suggest body segmenation where there is none. Ants show marked constrictions between the head, thorax, and abdomen. In these beetles, the thorax may be mistaken for the enlarged head of an ant, and the elytra (wing covers), "divided" into thorax and abdomen by those white markings. The true head of the beetle is relatively small, and in the case of the Currant-tip Borer, directed downward and nearly hidden by the thorax.

There are even more ant-mimicking longhorned beetle species. Give that "ant" a second glance, especially if you see it in isolation, with no other ants nearby. It may turn out to be a beetle instead.

Sources: Lingafelter, Steven W. 2007. Illustrated Key to the Longhorned Woodboring Beetles of the Eastern United States North Potomac, Maryland: Coleopterists Society, Special Publication No. 3. 206 pp.
Yanega, Douglas. 1996. Field Guide to Northeastern Longhorned Beetles (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae). Champaign, Illinois: Illinois Natural History Survey, Manual 6. 174 pp.

Grand Finale

Versute Sharpshooter (leafhopper), Graphocephala versuta

Every bugwatcher knows it’s coming in the late fall, and both delights in it, and mourns for the lost spring and summer, quickly fading from memory. That encore of insect abundance, from heavy, arthritic grasshoppers lumbering up wooden fences, to sun-seeking lady beetles, eager to find snug crevices to pack themselves into for the approaching winter.

Differential Grasshopper, Melanoplus differentialis, male.

Multicolored Asian Lady Beetles, Harmonia axyridis, nestle in bark furrows on a tree.

This year, here in Leavenworth, Kansas, the Indigenous Summer has been long, hot, and hopelessly dry. It seems to matter little to most of the insects, but birds stopped visiting our feeders. We saw dozens of gulls passing over for a couple of days, though, bright white against an azure sky, the wind speeding them along.

Juvenile Tuftlegged Orbweaver, Mangora placida

The air is thick with the exuberance of the minute, now that the larger butterflies are scarce, no longer competing for our attention. Dreamcatcher spider orbs snag the micro-confetti of aphids, leafhoppers, and gnats that are on the wing, or that get torn from their perches by the stiff, incessant wind.

Cloudless Sulphur, Phoebis sennae, female.

Falling leaves jerk my eyes in their direction, on the off chance that they are butterflies after all, like Eastern Comma or Question Mark, or the less common Goatweed Leafwings. Leaves that rocket from the ground skyward are grasshoppers sporting autumn yellow, orange, or black hind wings. The largest ones, with clear wings, that land in trees, are bird grasshoppers.

American Bird Grasshopper, Schistocerca americana.

Political campaign signs in our front yard are sometimes briefly occupied by insects or spiders. The spiders try to balloon off, or seek shelter in the little tunnels of the corrugated plastic. I like to think that they are all signaling their approval, but they are actually endorsing the more natural state of our property, our decision to not use chemical treatments of any kind, and otherwise steward the place through benign neglect.

Microleafhopper, Erythroneura calycula

Microleafhopper, Hymetta anthisma

Microleafhopper, Erythridula sp.

Microleafhopper, Balclutha sp.

Microleafhopper, Erythroneura elegans

Leafhopper, Pediopsoides distinctus

Walking the fence line in our back yard, I stir a myriad of tiny leafhoppers that alight briefly on the weathered, algae-stained boards. Despite their size, they are riotously colorful, with streaks and bands across their slender wings. Fireworks come in both bright and muted colors that echo the changing foliage.

A male Fork-tailed Bush Katydid, Scudderia furcata.

Earlier in the season, katydids and lacewings were vivid green. Now, they are dull brown, maybe reddish, with bursts of purple or pink. Little orange skipper butterflies pop as I stroll by the tiny lavender asters that grow low enough to dodge the mower blade, along the very edge of the curb by the busy four-lane. Yellows in the form of Cloudless Sulphurs, on a partly cloudy day, flitting from one cryptic flower to another in someone’s front yard.

A little worn, a Fiery Skipper sips nectar from an aster.

Flowers, too, bloom again. The goldenrod, and taller white asters reboot themselves for one more round of Can I Get a Pollinator?. They do, in flies and bees mostly. Wild Carrot never gave up to begin with, still looking fresh as a daisy, courting potential pollinators. They succeed, in the form of two metallic flies. The flies depart when a lone ant appears to steal nectar.

A flower fly, Helophilus fasciatus, and a Spotted Cucumber Beetle, Diabrotica undecimpunctata, enjoy goldenrod nectar.

Another October surprise….no, wait, today is November the second already….is an immature Carolina Mantis, sitting stock still among our backyard goldenrod. It is probably one molt away from adulthood, but I can’t decide if it is male or female. I wonder if there are any larger insects left to feed it, get it over the hump, or if it will die young, perishing as the teenage equivalent of its kind.

Immature Carolina Mantis, Stagmomantis carolina

There has finally been rain lately, including today, so perhaps there will be yet another burst of activity in its wake. There will still be ground beetles crossing the sidewalks, and grasshoppers basking on the pavement on warm days, to be sure. Fall Cankerworm has yet to even take the stage, but they don’t always, not every year, and I might not see them if the timing isn’t right.

Leaf-footed bug, Leptoglossus oppositus.

There is no metaphor here. This is just how nature works. It varies, it adapts, takes chances, weighing risks at a molecular level. Emerge now, or snooze another calendar year. We are slower to act, built to react instead of evolving to be proactive, and to accept whatever weather befalls us. The warm, sunny days seem to encourage our lazy nature, while nature bustles around us, unnoticed by most.

Aphid, Drepanaphis sp.

Spider Sunday: Red Velvet Jumper

Whenever I discover a species new to me, I am compelled to illuminate the known biology of the organism for anyone who will listen, or read. This happened recently, when I encountered a little jumping spider on a sidewalk during a late afternoon walk here in Leavenworth, Kansas, USA, on August 20.

I managed to capture the creature in a plastic vial, to take home for closer observation. At the time, I anticipated that it would be an immature male in the genus Phidippus, as they are common, especially along this pathway through lawn and wannabe prairie that parallels a major street on the north end of town.

I am prone to neglecting or procrastinating in taking photos of captive specimens, so it was August 25th before I finally sat down for a spider photo shoot in the white casserole dish we have dedicated as a “studio” for insects and arachnids. I was fortunate the spider was still alive, albeit perhaps a little more slender than when I first found it.

Throughout the process of capture and photography, the spider was surprisingly slow, which is not at all like most of the fast, bouncy jumpers that I am familiar with. Viewing my photos, it became apparent that whatever this spider was, it was a mature male (fully formed terminal segment on each pedipalp); and it lacked the iridescent chelicerae (jaws) of most Phidippus species.

Puzzled, I uploaded some of the photos to my Facebook page in hopes that some of my friends who are spider experts might be able to point me in the proper direction. It was after posting that I tried looking in some of my books to see if there was anything remotely similar to my specimen. The family Salticidae is highly diverse, and not every book about spiders will include every genus, let alone species. This time I got lucky.

I soon received replies to my social media post, the first of which was from Sarah Rose, author of Spiders of North America from Princeton University Press. That field guide does not include the species she suggested: Ghelna canadensis, but I reached the same conclusion in perusing Common Spiders of North America by Richard A. Bradley. Ian Wright also suggested the genus in his comment on the Facebook post, and Alicia Lips and Dani Marie agreed. Alicia included images of a female of the species that she found on her front porch in June of this year.

Ok, more about the actual spider. The community science platform iNaturalist gives a common name of Three-lined Ground Jumping Spider for Ghelna canadensis. Somewhere I recall reading the name “Red Velvet Jumper,” but that could apply to many other species, even though it is appropriate to the color and texture of this one. Most sources offer no common name. Mature males measure 4-5 millimeters in body length, females 4.6-6.4 mm. Females are darker, gray or brownish, with indistinct markings.

This is a ground-dwelling species, unusual compared to the arboreal species in its cohort, the subtribe Dendryphantina. It occurs over much of the eastern United States, except for the southernmost tier. Data points on iNaturalist have it as far west as Minnesota in the north, and near Dallas, Texas in the south. The "Checklist of Kansas Jumping Spiders" mentions records in Douglas and Jefferson counties, but not Leavenworth. Older references may use the former name, Metaphidippus canadensis. There are also three other species in the genus Ghelna, at least one of which, G. barrowsi, also occurs in my area.

After I finished the photo session, I provided the spider with some water from the tip of a soaked cotton swab. He was thirsty! Then I took him back to where I found him, releasing him well off the sidewalk this time.

Sources: Bradley, Richard A. 2013. Common Spiders of North America. Berkeley: University of California Press. 271 pp.
Guarisco, Hank, Bruce Ctuler, and Kenneth E. Kinman. 2001. “Checklist of Kansas Jumping Spiders,” The Kansas School Naturalist 47(1): 1-13.
World Spider Catalog
GBIF
Bugguide

A One Millimeter Mystery

Sometimes a minor disaster turns into something positive, like a fallen tree limb revealing a hidden relationship between a wasp, a fly, and a saw blade. All of this in the front yard of our house in Leavenworth, Kansas, USA.

Yikes!

Upon returning from a week-long road trip in late June that took us into Arkansas, southeast Missouri, and southern Illinois, we pulled up in front of our home to discover that a massive tree limb had broken off the ancient Pin Oak, miraculously landing between our house and the neighbor’s house, with no significant damage to either structure. This makes the third such incident since we moved here in May of 2021.

Ugh, I've got a big job ahead of me.

We do not own a chainsaw, so I started cutting off the smaller branches with a couple of manual saws that we have. The odor emanating from the cuts attracted several wood-boring beetles right away. Close behind them were parasitoid wasps looking to oviposit on the eggs or larvae of their beetle hosts. While this was entertaining, and resulted in adding a new longhorned beetle to our home list of animal life, a more intriguing scenario attracted my attention.

My saws bring all the wood-boring insects to our yard.

Awhile later, I noticed several minute black specks moving over the surface where I removed the branch. They had to be insects, but I could not tell what kind. I took a few photos, and was shocked to find they were miniscule wasps. Some had greatly elongated abdomens, others did not.

At least the long-bodied wasp is a Synopeas sp. platygastrid wasp.

I submitted a couple of photos to the Hymenopterists Forum, an interest group on Facebook, to solicit an identification from true expert specialists. They did not disappoint.Bob Zuparko suggested they might be in the family Platygastridae, and that was confirmed by Kendrick Fowler. He also suggested a genus, Synopeas, and subgenus Dolichotrypes. He wasn’t sure the wasp with the “normal” abdomen was even a male of the same thing. It might be something else entirely.

Fowler went on to explain that this is a known behavior, the attraction to freshly cut oak, and that the host is presumably some sort of fly in the gall midge family Cecidomyiidae. That floored me because until then I thought all gall midges attacked foliage and/or stems. Also, how did this behavior evolve? There weren’t saws of any kind until recently, in the evolutionary sense. Beavers?

I decided to dig a little deeper and discovered that there is a genus of gall midges that oviposits in this situation: Xylodiplosis. I went back out and looked at some of the branch stumps again. Amazingly, I managed to find a few gall midges laying eggs. They were much more difficult to photograph than the wasps, and not as numerous, either. Why the wasps arrived before their hosts is a mystery to me. Oh, and there is also Ledomyia, another genus of gall midge that lives in freshly cut wood like this. I’m honestly not positive which one I documented.

Female gall midge, probably Xylodiplosis sp., ovipositing.

It turns out that Xylodiplosis gall midges have all kinds of enemies. They are attacked by nematode worms (family Ektaphelenchidae), mites (family Tarsonemidae, tribe Pseudotaesonemoidini), even another kind of gall midge (Lestodiplosis xylodiplosuga). Most of the research on these has come out of Europe, by the way, so it may not apply here in North America.

Back to the wasps. Synopeas larvae do do not begin to develop until after the host gall midge larva leaves its lair in the xylem wood to pupate in the soil. The adult wasp emerges about fourteen days after the unparasitized adult of the host gall midge, according to one source (Rock and Jackson, 1985). In their findings, the rate of parasitism was about five percent, and that included another platygastrid wasp in the genus Leptacis.

In at least one of my photos of the wasps (first photo of them in this post), I can barely make out the short spine on the scutellum (top rear of thorax) that separates Synopeas from similar genera of platygastrids. Identification of species is not possible without examination of a specimen under high magnification. There are currently forty-four known species of Synopeas found in the Nearctic (North America more or less north of Central America). I will leave you to go farther down the research rabbit hole.

Sources: Awad, Jessica N. 2020. “Building a diagnostic framework for the genus Synopeas Forster (Hymenoptera: Platygastridae: Platygastrinae) based on reared specimens from Papua New Guinea.” Master of Science thesis, University of Florida.
Crawford, J.C. and J.C. Bradley. 1911.”A New Pelecinus-like Genus and Species of Platydateridae,” Proc. Ent. Soc. Wash. 13: 124-125.
Gagne, R.J. 1985. “Descriptions of new Nearctic Cecidomyiidae (Diptera) that live in xylem vessels of fresh-cut wood, and a review of Ledomyia (s. str.),” Proc. Ent. Soc. Wash. 87(1): 116-134.
Hooper, D.J. 1995. “Ektaphelenchoides winteri n. sp. (Nematoda: Ektaphelenchidae) from wood fly larvae Xylodiplosis sp. (Diptera: Cecidomyidae),” Fundamental and Applied Nematology 18(5): 465-470.
Khaustov, Alexander A., Arne Fjellberg, and Evert E. Lindquist. 2022. “A new genus and species of Pseudotarsonemoidini (Acari: Heterosstigmata: Tarsonemidae) associated with xylophagous gall midges in Norway,” Systematic and Applied Acarology 27(6): 1020-1034.
Rock, E.A. and D. Jackson. 1985. “The biology of xylophilic Cecidomyiidae (Diptera), Proc. Ent. Soc. Wash. 87(1): 135-141.
Skuhrava, M. and K. Dengler. 2001. “Lestodiplosis xylodiplosuga sp. n., a predator of Xylodiplosis sp. (Diptera: Cecidomyiidae): morphology of developmental stages, biology and behaviour,” Acta Societatis Zoologicae Bohemicae 65(1): 57-68.

National Moth Week 2024 Recap from Kansas City

We are in the Greater Kansas City Metro area, anyway, here in Leavenworth, Kansas. National Moth Week ran from July 20-28 this year, which was helpful because the weather was unstable and somewhat volatile, and we were traveling during the end of that time span. Our results were mixed, but they did include some new species for our property.

Chickweed Geometer Moth, Haematopis grataria, is a pretty dependable species for National Moth Week.

This part of the United States has received more rain this year than in the previous three that we have experienced. Oddly, this seems to have driven insect diversity and abundance down. Our plants are doing well. I had no idea that violets could grow that tall and that dense, for example. The goldenrod may be taller than I am by the time it blooms.

Green Cloverworm Moth, Hypena scabra, is common here most of the summer.

Black-bordered Lemon Moth, Marimatha nigrofimbria, has been a "regular" in our yard this year.

I walked our yard in the daytime on the afternoon of July 21, and flushed the above three moth species from our “lawn.”

Clemens' Grass Tubeworm Moth, Acrolophus popeanella.

That night I switched on the light for our covered side porch, which is only about five feet from the neighbor’s house, but only managed to attract a couple of grass tubeworm moths. Returning to the front entrance, I discovered what I believe to be an adult Variegated Cutworm lodged on the inside of the screen door.

Variegated Cutworm Moth, Peridroma saucia, I think.

Ironically, an unidentified tortricid moth appeared on the side porch screen door during the day on July 25.

Unidentified tortricid moth.

On July 26 I hiked over to Havens Park, one of the few forested places in town, in hopes of flushing some underwing moths, as I have had fair luck in the past. Lo and behold, I did get one, an Epione Underwing, Catocala epione, that stuck around just long enough for me to get a couple of images. Breaking through countless spider webs strung across the trail was worth it after all.

Epione Underwing, Catocala epione.

I set up our entolight blacklight twice, once in the back yard on the night of July 23, and again in the front yard on July 26. The difference in the species between the two locations is rather surprising. Frankly, given that the federal prison, lit up like Las Vegas every night, is less than two blocks away, I am mystified as to how we attract anything.

Maple Looper Moth, Parallelia bistriaris.

The back yard yielded a few moths, mostly small and common species, but also delivered a couple of lovely, larger moths. When blacklighting, it helps to remember to look on foliage, tree trunks, fence posts, and other surfaces just beyond the reach of the illumination of your lights. Many moth species are “too shy” to come directly to the sheet.

Banded tussock moth, Halysidota sp., found in the shadows just beyond the reach of the light.

The front yard, like the back yard, had few moths at the light until about eleven PM. Naturally, every time I decided I should turn out the light for the night, something new would show up. I think I eventually went to bed around one AM. Thankfully, the neighbors tolerate our “hobby.”

Spotted Peppergrass Moth, Eustixia pupula.

Among the novel finds in the front yard was one of the crocus geometer moths in the genus Xanthotype. They cannot be identified to species from photos, so we will settle for genus.

Crocus geometer moth, Xanthotype sp.

Another interesting moth was a Yellow-collared Slug Moth, Apoda y-inversum. Their helmet-shaped caterpillars apparently feed only on the leaves of hickory trees.

Yellow-collared Slug Moth, Apoda y-inversum.

All of my moth observations for the week can be found here on iNaturalist.

Packard's Wave, Cyclophora packardi, and a pygmy leafmining moth, Stigmella sp., immediately below it.

Next year I will try and schedule public events, as we did last year on Fort Leavenworth, for both a variety of habitat, and as a way to introduce others to the magic of moths. I hope all of you were able to enjoy this year’s edition of National Moth Week wherever it found you.

Zeller's Macalla, Macalla zelleri, a type of pyralid moth. Wish we had more, as their caterpillars feed on Poison Ivy.