More Magic

One of the most magical things about the Magic Wings Butterfly Conservatory and Gardens in South Deerfield, Massachusetts is how so many butterflies can manage to virtually disappear before your eyes. You have to be very observant just to find some of these masters of “crypsis,” another word for camouflage.

Butterflies are generally pretty obvious and colorful when they are flying or feeding at flowers. Those at rest, wings closed over their backs, are often colored in earthtones of browns, grays, or greens on the underside, making them so inconspicuous as to be easily overlooked altogether. Even an entire cluster of individuals, like these common crows, Euploea core, dangling from a vine, can be easily dismissed as dead, drooping leaves. Native to India, crows are in the same family as our Monarch butterfly.

Some butterflies take hiding one step further by resting on the underside of leaves. This is also how butterflies shelter themselves from downpours and other inclement weather. Hanging beneath foliage in the butterfly house, this Malachite butterfly, Siproeta stelenes, easily avoided detection by visitors not accustomed to having to hunt for such beauties. The neotropical Malachite actually makes its way into the U.S., occurring in extreme southern Florida and Texas as well as Central America and northern South America.

The ultimate in true camouflage is demonstrated by yet another butterfly known as the Indian leaf, Kallima paralekta, one of several tropical Old World species known collectively as “leafwings” or “dead leaf butterflies.” Not only are the closed wings of the insect shaped like a leaf in profile, but the markings on the underside even include a “midrib,” vaguely visible on this tattered specimen.

Magic Wings also displays some other insects that defy efforts to describe the extent of their cryptic appearance. Enormous tropical walkingstick insects of several varieties are so nearly invisible as to cause one to question whether there is anything other than plants inside the cage. This close-up of one specimen confirms that this is indeed an animal rather than a vegetable, complete with a visible eye, antennae, and legs.

Walkingsticks still pale in comparison to their relatives the “walking leaf” insects of southeast Asia. Yes, the yellow object in this image is an insect, viewed from the side. These members of the genus Phyllium seem to literally be what they eat, as they are vegetarians that consume the pigments of their host plants. Not surprisingly, in the autumn when leaves are losing chlorophyll and more colorful pigments that are normally masked come to the fore, the insects get a dose of bright oranges, yellows, and reds. Voila! The insect’s built-in fashion sense doesn’t miss a beat.

Magic Wings

Saturday, November 7, dawned as a bright, sunny day, unseasonably mild for western Massachusetts. I decided it was high time I visited one of the major local attractions here, the Magic Wings Butterfly Conservatory & Gardens. The following day the facility was celebrating its tenth year anniversary, and it is no wonder they are still going strong.

Open year round from 9 AM until 6 PM, Magic Wings is well worth your time. Besides the free-flying butterflies in the tropical greenhouse there are also birds, reptiles, amphibians, and other insects on display both inside the greenhouse and in an exhibit area that serves as the anteroom before you enter. Everything is colorful, including this red-eyed tree frog from Latin America.

The butterflies really do steal the show, though, and I personally observed at least eighteen different species flitting around, feeding at flowers, perched on foliage, or courting each other in magical, amorous displays. This male birdwing butterfly, Ornithoptera priamus, native to Papua New Guinea, finally paused during his pursuit of the opposite sex.

Much smaller butterflies of the genus Heliconius were more camera-friendly, and no two specimens seemed to be alike, let alone the different species. This “cydno,” Heliconius cydno, seemingly a subdued, dull black in natural light, positively shimmered under a camera flash. Meanwhile, the “postman,” Heliconius melpomene, exhibits a mind-boggling diversity of color patterns such that they resemble different species. Only when courting does it become apparent that they belong together.

The morning light streaming through the glass roof definitely offers you the best opportunity to observe and photograph the butterflies, but hang around awhile longer. You can take your lunch break in the café, or go to the Monarch Restaurant next door, then return (showing the stamp on your hand) for an afternoon encore. At dusk, you will be treated to the crepuscular flights of the enormous “owl” butterflies, Caligo eurilochus. They will likely even alight on you while you are looking for other butterflies. What a way to end your day.

I’m not earning anything by endorsing this place, I just found it a pretty enchanting place to spend a day. Where else can you hear biker dudes and women and children all making exclamations of delight over insects? There is something to be said for any enterprise that can have such an effect on people, bringing out all our best qualities in a shared experience with nature, however artificial the environment.

Learn more about Magic Wings online at MagicWings.com.

Firefly Tag

There is something about fireflies that is undeniably enchanting, and I looked forward to seeing them here in western Massachusetts. They occur in Arizona, too, albeit different species restricted mostly to riparian (streamside) habitats. Back on the evening of June 17, I looked for fireflies and other insects around the schoolyard here in South Deerfield. I was not disappointed.

The fireflies I came to know from my days in Cincinnati, Ohio, are largely crepuscular species, most active at dusk. Here, they appear to be active only after dark. Still, they ready themselves in the waning hours of daylight, appearing more out in the open on foliage along the edges of forests and fields.

The first firefly I encountered was a species of Photuris. It has been recently discovered that there are several cryptic species which can only be identified from subtle differences in their flash patterns. Morphologically, and apparently even genetically, they are otherwise identical.

Photuris gained infamy decades earlier when it was revealed that the females of one species, P. pennsylvanica, habitually mimic the flashes of female Photinus pyralis, thereby attracting the males of that other species. The male Photinus, no doubt optimistic at a positive response from a potential mate, alights to find the large female Photuris to be in the mood for something else. She devours him. Literally.

Dr. Thomas Eisner of Cornell University was the gentleman and scholar who not only discovered this behavior, but learned why it occurs. The father of chemical ecology, Dr. Eisner deduced that Photinus fireflies produce potent defensive chemicals called lucibufagins. That’s correct, the compounds are steroidal pyrones related to toad toxins. The Photuris fireflies, however, do not produce this chemical, instead acquiring it through the consumption of their cousins.

Ironically, the next firefly I found was a male Photinus. It is not pyralis, but a different species I have yet to identify. Just beginning to stir, he made a patient photographer’s model.

As darkness began to descend, along with hordes of hungry mosquitoes that made continued searching unpleasant, if not nearly intolerable, I managed to spy a female Photinus, perched on a grassblade. I would need my camera’s pop-up flash to illuminate her, but what I didn’t expect was her reaction to it.

After my flash would go off, which must have seemed like the sun exploding to the poor girl, she would twist her body and return the flash, though infinitely dimmer. Now it was obvious that she thought I was the male firefly of her dreams. Any male capable of producing that bright a light must be the most genetically fit of all her kind. I found it fascinating that she would purposefully direct her flash as well. There was no question where she was aiming it.

Try as I might, I could never catch her own signal. My flash simply failed to recharge in time to capture her faint greenish glow. It was a miracle I could even catch the literal tail-end of her contortionist performance with a subsequent shot.

I was recently asked if only the male fireflies fly and flash, and it appears to be true of at least a few species. It pays females to keep a low profile in grass or foliage, since they invest heavily in the production of offspring. Males are more “expendable” in the genetic sense, though anyone who has tried to catch flying fireflies knows just how futile an exercise it can be.

I enjoyed my game of “firefly tag” with the lovely female Photinus, but fearing she may not have enough battery life to reply to real males, I eventually let her be. Please share your own firefly encounters, and watch this space for future posts on fireflies, and the book about them that I have brewing….

For Whom the Bell Tolls

I have to relate a funny story. Lately I have been going out at night, looking for moths and other insects that fly to the meager outdoor lights here in South Deerfield, Massachusetts. Ok, I have two funny stories, now that I think about it.

The first night I went out looking, I stopped at two banks to prowl around their well-lit ATM and drive-through areas respectively. Naturally, I was stopped by the cops who had received reports of someone with a camera taking pictures of the banks. I eased their fears, and after a computer check I was on my way….Hey, can I help it if banks and the post office are the best-lit buildings in town? Geesh, you don’t have to make a federal case out of it. Well, come to think of it, I guess you do!

Last night I got a start of a different sort. Yet another nicely-lit building is our local library, located right next to a church complete with a bell tower. The library has a wonderful bright light, not one of those non-insect-attracting-good-for-nothing yellow sodium fixtures. Unfortunately, it is located about twenty feet up the side of the building. Thank goodness for the twenty power zoom on my Canon PowerShot SX10 IS.

I had found a neat moth to take an image of, which was apparently at precisely 11:30 PM because, just as I was about to press the shutter…DONG!!! Once my head quit rattling and my heart started again, I got the shot. I guess that will teach me to stay up so late on a work day.

Housemates

Besides the human and canine residents at 24 Sugarloaf Street, our house is also occupied by a variety of arthropods, mostly spiders. Crystalyn says she is not fond of spiders, so I’m hoping she doesn’t read my blog, at least for the sake of the health of these arachnids living with us.

The first spider to meet my acquaintance was this very gravid (egg-laden) female “prowling spider” of the family Miturgidae, on the ceiling of the bathroom. She is most likely a member of the genus Cheiracanthium, known also as “longlegged sac spiders.” The genus used to be in the family Clubionidae, but was moved to the Miturgidae in 1997, a decision still being debated in arachnological circles.

These spiders are mostly nocturnal, prowling during the night then spinning silken retreats in which they spend the day. This girl spun a bivouac as I watched.

Later I would find her mate in the kitchen. Well, it was an adult male at least, evidenced by the modified palps. They appear as the dark “boxing gloves” near his mouth. The palps (or pedipalps) are leg-like mouthparts that double in the male as intromittent sex organs. He deposits sperm on a mat of webbing, then draws it into each palp. These are complex appendages, designed to fit like a key in a lock, the lock in this case being the female’s sex organ called the epigynium. Like the female, the male also “sacks out” during the day.

Cheiracanthium had long been considered a genus of spiders at least mildly venomous to humans, but research has proven that this is a myth. So, I let them roam and carry out pest control activities. We definitely have too many mosquitoes here!

Crane flies of the family Tipulidae are very abundant now, some species being attracted to lights at night, and inevitably one strays indoors. This one has patterned wings. It is on the bathroom ceiling, too, but I don’t know whether one of the spiders got it. Crane flies are often mistaken for giant mosquitoes, or are referred to as “mosquito hawks,” but the adult insects probably do not feed, let alone take prey. Their size is deceptive as they are fragile insects. Look at one cockeyed and a leg will fall off. Their lifespan as winged insects is brief, just long enough to find a mate and reproduce. Crane fly larvae live in an incredibly variety of habitats, with diets that vary with the genus to which they belong.

A more permanent guest is yet another spider. This is what I imagine is a juvenile long-bodied cellar spider, Pholcus phalangioides, because adults are much larger. This one is well on its way, though, especially if it continues catching prey in the bathroom doorjamb like this. Cellar spiders are totally harmless to people and pets. While they do build tangled webs, they will also stray from those webs into the webs of other spiders and kill and devour them. Pholcids are frequently referred to as “daddy longlegs,” but that colloquial name is also given to harvestmen, arachnids of the order Opiliones (not spiders), and, ironically, to crane flies, especially in England. A crane fly would be more than this little one could handle.

Crystalyn is so busy that she sometimes forgets to turn the oven off, let alone observe the room for roaming arachnids. Her dog Ruby did see one, once, in the dining room, and drew our collective attention to it as it crossed the ceiling out of reach.

I'm He-e-e-re!

I arrived in Massachusetts Tuesday night, May 26, via the Hartford, Connecticut airport. My friend Cynthia Boettner was kind enough to pick me up there and take me back to their place in Shelburne Falls. Her husband Jeff had to make an unexpected trip to British Columbia to collect some parasitic flies that are potential biocontrols for the winter moth, an invasive species here in Massachusetts.

Wednesday morning I met my new housemate, Crystalyn, and her companion Ruby (a delightful dog), as she was headed off to work training horses. Crystalyn went out of her way to accommodate me and my stuff, which considering the relatively small house, took some doing. The owner of this 1910 “railroad house” lives in New York, but she has been most gracious as well.

Cynthia was kind enough to take me shopping for groceries and other essentials Wednesday evening, but doing the shopping on my own is going to be problematic. South Deerfield is not exactly a bustling metropolis, and major grocery stores are few and far between anyway. I do not drive, either, and making bus connections looks like it is going to be a struggle on a “good” day. Schools are out for the summer, so buses come and go with even less frequency in many cases. The good news: several routes servicing the “Five Colleges” area are free!

The weather has thus far been cool (upper 50s, low 60s) and damp, but there is still no shortage of fauna out and about. I’ve seen many birds, lots of insects, spiders, and harvestmen just on the property of my residence alone. There is a state preserve (Sugarloaf Mountain) just a stone’s throw from my immediate neighborhood, and I look forward to exploring that park soon. The view of the Connecticut River Valley from that bluff is worth the hike all by itself.

Tomorrow (Saturday) I meet my immediate supervisor at the lab on the campus of the University of Massachusetts (Amherst), and will relate what I am in for as far as the job goes. Thank you for your patience while I get settled in here. Posts should become more regular as I establish a routine.