Flaming the debate

Eastern redcedar encroaching loess hilltop prairie, a critically imperiled natural community in Missouri.

ResearchBlogging.orgAs my interest in prairie insects has increased over the past few years, so has my interest in their conservation. Many insects are restricted to prairies through dependence upon prairie plants or their unique physical and trophic characteristics. Thus, preservation of not only prairie plants but their insect associates as well is a major goal of conservationists.  The task is daunting – for example only ~1% of tallgrass prairie remains in the central U.S., the rest long ago converted to agriculture or otherwise irreparably altered.  Prairies are dynamic natural communities that rely upon disturbance – this need to “disturb to preserve” creates an oxymoronic conundrum for restoration ecologists that is made even more difficult by the fragmented nature of today’s prairie landscape.  The situation here in Missouri is even more difficult, as nearly all of our grassland preserves (tallgrass prairie, sand prairie, loess hilltop prairie and glades) are exceedingly small and highly disjunct relicts not connected as parts of larger systems.

In recent years, prescribed burning has become the management tactic of choice for restoring and maintaining grassland preserves.  There are good reasons for this – not only are increased floral diversity and reversal of woody encroachment well-documented responses to fire, but burning is also highly cost-effective (a critical consideration in today’s climate of shrinking public budgets).  As the use of prescribed burning on grassland preserves has become widely adopted, however, concerns about the impacts of fire on invertebrate populations have been raised.  The subject is now an area of intense research, but studies are hampered by the limited availability of large, long-unburned tracts of native prairie, and no scientific consensus has yet emerged.  Regrettably, the debate has polarized into “pro-” and “anti-fire” camps that seem unable to communicate with each other constructively.  This is unfortunate, since both ends of the spectrum offer ideas that could be used to achieve the goal of preserving prairie remnants while mitigating concerns about invertebrate impacts.  I have previously expressed my own views on the subject, a position that I suspect some might mistakenly characterize as “anti-fire.”  While I do support the use of prescribed burning, I do not support its use with no consideration of other prairie management strategies such as haying and light grazing (not to be confused with the heavy, abusive, unmanaged kind of grazing that has degraded so much of our landscape).  All of these tools (as well as parcels that receive no management at all) have potential value in prairie management and should be considered.

Those interested in potential fire impacts on prairie invertebrates will be interested in this latest salvo by Scott Swengel and colleagues, who used metadata analysis to correlate declines of prairie butterflies in the Midwest with the widespread adoption of prescribed burning as a management tactic.  The authors present convincing evidence that tallgrass prairie butterfly populations are not co-evolved with fire regimes currently used for prairie management, although their conclusions will no doubt be challenged.  Nevertheless, until a firmer scientific consensus can be achieved, prudence should dictate some measure of caution in the use of fire as an exclusive prairie management tactic.

Dear Colleagues:

We are pleased to announce a new article by Scott Swengel, Dennis Schlicht, Frank Olsen, and Ann Swengel, based on long-term data that has just been published online,  Declines of prairie butterflies in the midwestern USA.  This paper is available free from Springer Open Choice at http://www.springerlink.com/content/l732444592662434/fulltext.pdf or by going to the Journal of  Insect Conservation Online First section and scanning through the articles in ascending number order until getting to articles posted 13 August 2010.

The trends of tallgrass prairie skippers shown here, although disastrous, underestimate the decline in Iowa and Minnesota for several reasons:

  1. In statistical testing we only include sites with adequate data for testing, which eliminates many sites from inclusion that had 100% declines of a specialist we know about.
  2. Nearly all sites with long time series were the top sites to begin with, which are likely to take a longer time to show large declines than medium or low-quality sites.
  3. Recent government sponsored surveys not included here show another round of huge declines for Poweshiek Skipperling in Iowa and Minnesota.
  4. Some species went undetectable by the late 1980s and early 1990s, so didn’t register as a presence when the study began.  Hence, they cannot show a decline since then.

Some good news is that conservation based on existing knowledge of specialists’ management responses gets far better results (as shown by Regal Fritillaries and Karner Blues in Wisconsin than typical management.  So declines like this are not inevitable.

The Ecological Interpretations and Conservation Conclusion section of Discussion contain some of our new insights explaining the observed about land-use effects on prairies and butterflies.

Scott Swengel

My thanks to Scott Swengel for giving me permission to reprint his introduction.

REFERENCE:

Swengel, S. R., D. Schlicht, F. Olsen & A. B. Swengel. 2010. Declines of prairie butterflies in the midwestern USA Journal of Insect Conservation: DOI 10.1007/s10841-010-9323-1.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

Friday Flower – green fringed orchid

I may have been the “Beetle Group” leader for last May’s BioBlitz at Penn-Sylvania Prairie, a 160-acre tract of native tallgrass prairie in southwestern Missouri owned by the Missouri Prairie Foundation.  However, it was a plant – specifically the green fringed orchid  (Platanthera lacera) – that would prove be the highlight of my visit.  I’ve already lamented the paucity of beetles that I found at the prairie and the possible reasons for such.  It’s a shame, because to my knowledge the BioBlitz was the first real attempt to begin documenting the diversity of beetles and other insects that inhabit the prairie.  This is in great contrast to the vascular plants, of which about 300 mostly native prairie species have already been recorded from the site in active survey efforts that began even before its acquisition.   It’s no coincidence that prairie plant diversity would be so high in this frequently burned prairie remnant while beetles and other insects would be rather hard to find, since vascular plant diversity is the primary – and often the only – metric used to assess the success of and optimal timing for prescribed burning in native prairie remnants.  Unfortunately, the response of invertebrates to fire-centric management techniques such as those used here have not been so well considered, with the apparent declines in their populations now fueling an increasingly acrimonious debate on the subject.  But I digress…

Also called ragged fringed orchid, this species typifies the rather striking appearance of the genus as a whole.  I’ve always been quite enamored with orchids (even possessing a small collection during my young adult days that I grew outside under shadecloth during summer and indoors under artificial light during winter) but have encountered only a small fraction of Missouri’s 33 native orchid species – mostly in the genus Spiranthes (e.g., Great Plains Ladies’-tresses).  Despite not having seen this genus prior to this day, I knew immediately what I had stumbled upon (at least at the generic level) as we scoured the prairie in our search for its meager scraps of beetle life.  While not listed as threatened or endangered in Missouri, it is still quite uncommon, with populations scattered across the Ozark and Ozark Border counties and occurring with greater frequency in these Osage Plains in a variety of open, acidic-soiled habitats (Summers 1981).  As is typical for species with green-white colored flowers, the blossoms emit fragrance at night and thus attract sphinx moths (family Sphingidae) and owlet moths (family Noctuidae) for pollination, including the hummingbird clearwing hawkmoth (Hemaris thysbe) (Luer 1975).  While our Midwestern populations are considered “spindly and unattractive” compared to the more luxuriantly-blossomed plants of New England and maritime Canada (Luer 1975), I consider this to be the most strikingly handsome orchid I’ve encountered to date.

Photo Details: Canon 50D (ISO 100, 1/250 sec) w/ 100mm macro lens @ f/10 (whole plant) or f/18 (flower close-up), Canon MT-24EX flash (manual, 1/4 ratio) w/ Sto-Fen diffusers. Typical post-processing includes levels adjustment, minor cropping, and/or unsharp mask.

REFERENCES:

Luer, C. A.  1975. The Native Orchids of the United States and Canada Excluding Florida.  The New York Botanical Garden, 361 pp. + 96 color plates.

Summers, B.  1981. Missouri Orchids.  Missouri Department of Conservation, Natural History Series No. 1, 92 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

Trichodes bibalteatus in Oklahoma

Among checkered beetles (family Cleridae), the genus Trichodes contains among the largest and most strikingly-colored species.  The 11 North American species of this predominantly Holarctic genus are primarily western in distribution, although two species (T. nuttalli and T. apivorus) do occur in the eastern U.S.  The individual in these photos was one of several I encountered feeding on the flowers of a yellow composite in the Gloss Mountains of northwestern Oklahoma during early July.  I take them to represent the species T. bibalteatus based on their close resemblance to the holotype of that species from the LeConte Collection in the Museum of Comparative Zoology at Harvard University.  While these photographs are admittedly far from perfect, they were about the best I could manage at the time considering the gusty post-storm winds that I encountered atop the mesa where these beetles were found (along with my continuing difficulty in achieving proper exposure with subjects on bright yellow flowers).

The striking colors of adult Trichodes and their frequent association with flowers for feeding and mating belies a more treacherous aspect of their life history.  While adults may serve as important pollinators of native plant species (Mawdsley 2004), they also lay their eggs on flowers.  The larvae that hatch from these eggs don’t eat the flower itself, but rather attach themselves to bees and wasps that visit the flower as they gather pollen for provisioning their own nests (Linsley & MacSwain 1943).  The larvae hitch a ride back to the hymenopteran’s nest, where they then prey on the developing brood and usurp pollen provisions for themselves.

Photo Details: Canon 50D w/ MP-E 65mm 1-5X macro lens (ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/16), Canon MT-24EX flash (1/8 ratio) w/ Sto-Fen + GFPuffer diffusers. Typical post-processing (levels, minor cropping, unsharp mask).

REFERENCE:

Linsley, E. G. & J. W. MacSwain. 1943. Observations on the life history of Trichodes ornatus (Coleoptera, Cleridae), a larval predator in the nests of bees and wasps. Annals of the Entomological Society of America 36:589–601.

Mawdsley, J. R. 2004. Pollen transport by North American Trichodes Herbst (Coleoptera: Cleridae). Proceedings of the Entomological Society of Washington 106(1):199-201.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

Rejoicing the end of summer

Russet browns of big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii) and Indian grass (Sorgastrum nutans) blend with still-green foliage in early autumn at White River Balds Natural Area in southwestern Missouri.

Last week I awoke to refreshingly cool temperatures for the first time in a long time – a brutal heat wave that had gripped the Midwest for some time had finally (if only briefly) passed. Missouri typically experiences substantial heat and humidity during the height of summer, a result of warm, moisture-laden air sweeping up from the Gulf of Mexico and over our mid-continental position.  The first cool snap in mid-August, however, usually marks the beginning of the end of protracted heat. High temps may return (and usually do), but they are intermittent and the writing is on the wall – summer’s end is near, and fall is on its way! For most of my life, the coming of fall has always been something to which I looked forward eagerly – it really is my favorite time of year.  I don’t just love fall, I adooore it!!!  As a result, I sometimes forget that not everyone shares my feelings, so when I mentioned to a colleague last week how excited I was that fall was on the way, I was a little surprised by her less-than-pleased reaction. Kids I can understand –  fall means a return to school and the end of fun and sun and no responsibilities.  However, for most adults, fall does not entail as dramatic a paradigm shift – we get up and go to work everyday regardless of the season. Indeed, to my colleague, fall was not dreaded so much for what it is but what it portends – winter! I convinced myself that if she was as interested in natural history as I, surely she would appreciate fall as a time of transition in the natural world.  This logic proved faulty, however, when just a few days later one of my favorite entomologist/natural historian bloggers voiced a similar lamentation.

Xeric calcareous prairie (''cedar glade'') in southwestern Missouri - habitat for Cicindela obsoleta vulturina.

That the charms of fall are not immediately apparent to everyone is beyond me.  Who in middle America doesn’t rejoice the end of long, sweltering days as they cede to the cool days of fall?  Who dreads the crisp, clean, autumn air and its pungent, earthy aromas?  Who doesn’t marvel as they watch the landscape morph from summer’s monotonous shades of green – its forests becoming a riot of red, orange, and yellow, its grasslands a shifting mosaic of tawny, amber, and gold, and in all places shadows cast long and sharp by a cool yellow sun riding low in a deep blue sky?  For the natural historian, fall offers even more than just these sensory gifts – it’s not the end of the season, but rather part of a repeating continuum that includes birth, growth, senescence and quiescence.  Plants that have not yet flowered begin to do so in earnest, while those that have shift energy reserves into developing seeds.  The spring wildflowers may be long gone, but only now do the delicate blooms of Great Plains Ladies’-tresses orchids rise up on their tiny spires.  Grasses also, anonymous during the summer, now reach their zenith – some with seed heads as exquisite as any summer flower.  Insects and other animals step up activity, hastily harvesting fall’s bounty to provision nests or fatten their stores in preparation for the long, winter months ahead.

Gypsum Hills in south-central Kansas. Habitat for Cicindela pulchra.

For myself, it is tiger beetles that are fall’s main attraction.  Yes, tiger beetles are out during spring and summer as well, but there is something special about the fall tiger beetle fauna.  Glittering green, wine red, and vivid white, a number of tiger beetles make a brief appearance in the fall after having spent the summer as larvae, hidden in the ground while feeding on hapless insects that chanced too close to their burrows, until late summer rains triggered pupation and transformation to adulthood.  As the rest of the nature prepares for sleep, these gorgeous beetles take their first, tentative steps into the autumn world for a brief session of feeding and play before winter chases them back underground for the winter.  Every fall for the past several years now, I have looked forward to the annual fall tiger beetle trip to see some of the different species and the unique landscapes which harbor them.  From the “cedar glades” of Missouri’s Ozark Highlands and Gypsum Hills of south-central Kansas, to the Sandhills of central Nebraska and Black Hills of South Dakota, I’ve acquired an even greater passion for a season that I already loved.  I’ll never forget the first time I saw Cicindela pulchra (beautiful tiger beetle) flashing iridescently across the barren red clay.  I still remember the excitement of seeing my first C. obsoleta vulturina launching itself powerfully from amongst the clumps of big bluestem. I recall my amazement at my first encounter with C. limbata (sandy tiger beetle) as it danced across deep sand blows, undaunted by scouring 30 mph winds.  No doubt I have many equally vivid memories awaiting me in the future, as I intend to keep the annual fall tiger beetle trip a long-standing tradition.  For this year, I’m hoping that C. pulchra and a few other species will reward a late-September drive to the Nebraska and South Dakota Badlands.  Whether they do is almost irrelevant – I love fall, and the chance to see new localities during my favorite time of year will be reward enough.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

Clown beetle surprise

As I slowly scanned my flashlight through the darkness across the mixed-grass prairie in the Glass Mountains of northwestern Oklahoma last July, there was one thing that I hoped not to see (prairie rattlesnake, unless from afar) and one thing that I hoped more than anything to see (Great Plains giant tiger beetle, Amblycheila cylindriformis). Fortunately, I encountered none of the former and found several of the latter.  It took awhile before I saw the first one, but in the meantime I saw all too abundantly the clown beetle, Eleodes suturalis.  A member of the family Tenebrionidae, this species is one of the most conspicuous components of the Great Plains beetle fauna.  Adults are commonly encountered walking about the grasslands or crossing roads, especially after summer rains.  I recall my first encounter with this species when I made my first insect collecting trip to the Great Plains in 1986, marveling as I literally watched hundreds of individuals crossing a remote highway in southwestern Kansas.  Now, they were just an annoyance – close enough in size and appearance to the object of my search that I had to pause and look at each one I encountered to verify its identity.¹

¹ In fact, a mimetic association has been suggested for Amblycheila cylindriformis and Eleodes suturalis due to their similarity in size, shape and coloration (black with a reddish-brown sutural stripe) (Wrigley 2008).  This may be true, as Eleodes suturalis is an abundant species capable of defending itself with noxious sprays that contain benzoquinone and other hydrocarbons, while Amblycheila cylindriformis is a much rarer species (as mimics tend to be) that lacks defensive compounds.

After finding a few of the Amblycheila, I encountered this particular individual clinging to a root sticking out of the side of a wash.  My closer look caused it to immediately assume its characteristic defensive headstand pose (from which the name ‘clown beetle’ comes), so I decided to take a few photographs (not an easy task at night).  The photos have been sitting on my hard drive since, but in examining them more closely, I realized that this particular beetle is not E. suturalis.  Rather, it is one of several similar appearing species that co-occur with E. suturalis in the Great Plains and sometimes resemble it due to their large size, sulcate elytra, and occasional presence of a similar reddish-brown sutural stripe.  From these species, E. suturalis is at once distinguished by its broadly explanate (flanged) pronotum and laterally carinate, distinctly flattened elytra.  This individual clearly exhibits more rounded elytra and as best as I can tell keys to E. hispilabris – distinguished from E. acuta and E. obscurus by possessing a normal first tarsal segment (not thickened apically) on the foreleg (Bennett 2008).  Presumably this and the other related species of Eleodes also possess chemical defenses similar to E. suturalis – an example of Müllerian mimicry where multiple species exhibit similar warning coloration or behavior (in this case headstanding) along with genuine anti-predation attributes.

Photo Details: Canon 50D (ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14), Canon 100mm macro lens, Canon MT-24EX flash (1/4 ratio) w/ Sto-Fen diffusers. Post-processing: levels, unsharp mask, slight cropping.

REFERENCES:

Bernett, A. 2008. The genus Eleodes Eschscholtz (Coleoptera: Tenebrionidae) of eastern Colorado. Journal of the Kansas Entomological Society 81(4):377–391.

Wrigley, R. A.  2008. Insect collecting in Mid-western USA, July 2007.  The Entomological Society of Manitoba Newsletter 35(2):5–9.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

“A good photographer is invisible…”

Yesterday I shot down to the southeastern lowlands of Missouri to spend some quality time in the field with friend and fellow cicindelophile Kent Fothergill. We were primarily looking for migrants of the Ascendent Tiger Beetle (Cicindela trifasciata ascendens), a Gulf Coast species that doesn’t normally occur in Missouri but is well known for its vagility and late-season northward migrations and which has been seen in the state once before (Brown and MacRae 2005).  No such individuals were found, but no matter – the day was really about just getting out and enjoying the camaraderie.  Nevertheless, there were some successes.  We located burrows of 1st- and  2nd-instar larvae of the Ant-like Tiger Beetle (Cylindera cursitans) at a site along the Mississippi River where Rich Thoma and I found adults last year.  Previous attempts to rear this species from larva to adult have not succeeded (Brust et al. 2005), but I collected a number of larvae and transferred them to a rearing container anyway in hopes that the techniques I’ve developed for rearing the closely-related Swift Tiger Beetle (Cylindera celeripes) might work also with this species.  We also found the beast that I am photographing above – I’ll leave it to your imagination for now to figure out what it is.

In between stops there was plenty of time for discussion on subjects entomological and non.  One thing Kent knows a thing or two about is insect photography, and during a discussion about such he made an interesting comment. Beyond focus, exposure, and composition, he noted that good insect photographers have the ability to become invisible – i.e., they combine patience and persistence with knowledge of the subject’s behavior to make it forget about the big glass eye staring at them from 6 inches away and return to going about their business.  It brought some clarity to my mind about the things I’ve tried in my own attempts to photograph insects that really did not want to be photographed (and there have been many).  The point was emphasized when I came into the office this morning and found the above photograph in my email inbox – Kent had taken it yesterday while I was photographing the bug-to-be-named-later, and I was completely unaware that I was being photographed!  Yes, a good photographer is invisible…

REFERENCES:

Brown, C. R. and T. C. MacRae. 2005. Occurrence of Cicindela (Cicindelidia) trifasciata ascendens (Coleoptera: Cicindelidae) in Missouri. Cicindela 37(1–2):17–19.

Brust, M. L., W. W. Hoback, and C. B. Knisley. 2005. Biology, habitat preference, and larval description of Cicindela cursitans LeConte (Coleoptera: Carabidae: Cicindelinae). The Coleopterists Bulletin 59(3):379–390.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

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Cicindela – A quarterly journal devoted to Cicindelidae

Being a cicindelophile (i.e., a tiger beetle enthusiast), I have on occasion highlighted articles published in the journal Cicindela (“A quarterly journal devoted to Cicindelidae”) (see previous post – also here, here and here).  This delightful little journal is the now 42-year old brainchild of Ronald L. Huber, among North America’s foremost experts of the group (and still serving as Managing Editor for the journal).  With Robert C. Graves and Richard Freitag also serving as Editors, the journal publishes four issues per year – each containing a variety of articles dealing with the taxonomy, biology, faunistics, and conservation of this captivating group.  More recent years have also seen the inclusion of color photographs.  For serious students of the group, the journal is an indispensable resource – its issues containing a significant portion of the recent tiger beetle taxonomic literature (indeed, I am fortunate to possess in my own library a complete and nicely bound set of this journal).  However, even those with only casual interest in the group can appreciate the journal’s informal, enthusiast-centric tone.  A remarkably longstanding labor-of-love, Ron himself lays out and delivers each issue to the printer, then mails copies to the journal’s few hundred subscribers.

One thing that the journal has lacked is a web presence.  This has becomes all too clear with each article that I’ve featured, each prompting requests for subscription information by readers whose interest in the journal was piqued but were then unable to find such information on the web.  All of that is about to change – with Ron’s permission, the journal’s editorial policy and subscription information are being reproduced here to make them more widely available to those who might wish to contribute or subscribe.  The cost of the journal is nominal (only $10 in the U.S.), so even the most casually interested person should be able to justify a subscription.

Editorial Policy

Manuscripts dealing with any aspect of the study of Cicindelidae will be considered from any author.  All manuscripts should be submitted to the Managing Editor via email or on diskette [see inside back cover for conventions and format].  Papers dealing with areas other than the Nearctic are especially solicited but should be in English.  Translations are also very welcome.  All manuscripts will be acknowledged upon receipt.  Proofs-for-correction will be emailed to authors for quality control.  Illustrations, charts, graphs, etc., are encouraged.  Authors that have institutional support or other funds available for publication purposes are importuned to arrange for at least partial payment of publication costs.  Current page charges are shown inside the back cover.

Subscriptions

The subscription price for each annual volume of four numbers is currently $10.00 (domestic) and $13.00 outside the U.S.  All subscriptions begin with the first issue of the year.  Back issues of prior volumes, if still available, are priced according to age.  Inquire for prices.  All requests for subscriptions and back issue availability should be addressed to the Managing Editor: Ronald L. Huber, 2521 Jones Place West, Bloomington, Minnesota 55431-2837, U.S.A.

My appreciation to Ron for allowing me to post this information, and also to Ken Allen, for permitting me to reproduce the cover of the latest issue of Cicindela, graced with a gorgeous variant of Cicindela longilabris that he photographed in Glacer National Park.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

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Bruneau Sand Dune tiger beetles caught in the act!

ResearchBlogging.orgThe newest issue of CICINDELA (“A quarterly journal devoted to Cicindelidae”) contains an interesting article by my good friend and fellow tiger beetle enthusiast Kent Fothergill, who presents a fascinating sequence of photos documenting a field encounter with a mating pair of the endangered Bruneau Sand Dune tiger beetle (Cicindela waynei) (Fothergill 2010).  This is one of several tiger beetle species in the C. maritima species group that inhabit sand dunes in central and western North America – others include the Coral Pink Sand Dune tiger beetle (C. albissima), the St. Anthony Sand Dune tiger beetle (C. arenicola), the Colorado dune tiger beetle (C. theatina), and the sandy tiger beetle (C. limbata).  With the exception of the latter, these species show highly restricted distributions in their preferred sand dune habitats, and because their populations are so small they are especially vulnerable to drought and ever-increasing anthropogenic pressures (i.e., invasive plants, motorized vehicular traffic, overzealous collectors).  While the Bruneau Sand Dune tiger beetle has not been accorded status on the Endangered Species List, the Idaho Department of Fish and Game and the Bureau of Land Management have classified it as globally imperiled.

Bruneau Sand Dune tiger beetle, Bruneau Sand Dune State Park, Idaho. Photo © Kent Fothergill 2009.

Kent was observing these beetles in Bruneau Dune State Park in southwestern Idaho – the main habitat for this species – when he encountered several pairs of C. waynei in the process of mating.  Photographs were taken of one mating pair, revealing a fascinating sequence of behaviors that included vigorous but unsuccessful attempts by the female to dislodge the male, eversion and penetration of the female by the male aedeagus, and subsequent mate guarding (see photo above).  It is, in fact, this latter behavior that is most often observed among tiger beetle mating pairs and not actual mating itself, which is only rarely observed.  Kent noted the uniquely modified male mandibles (see photo below) and their possible role in preventing the male from being dislodged during the female’s initial protestations.

Male Bruneau Sand Dune tiger beetles sport impressive choppers! Photo © Kent Fothergill 2009.

This apparently is the first documented report of mating in this species, and its occurrence in May is considerably later in the season than Baker et al. (1997) speculated – significant because protection of 1st instar larvae is a management priority for conservation of this species.  The potential occurrence of 1st instars during a longer period of time is an important consideration for continued management of this species, as the Bruneau Sand Dune population continues to show evidence of decline despite the prohibition of insect collecting, cattle grazing, and off-road vehicles within the park (Bosworth et al. 2010).  Human trampling and pesticide applications to adjacent rangelands are continuing threats that have proven more difficult to manage.

My sincerest thanks to Kent Fothergill for presenting me the opportunity to review his manuscript prior to publication and allowing me to reproduce here two of his spectacular photographs of this gorgeous and rare species.

REFERENCES:

Baker, C. W., J. C. Munger, K. C. Cornwall and S. Staufer.  1997. Bruneau Dunes tiger beetle study 1994 and 1995.  Idaho Bureau of Land Management, Technical Bulletin 97-7, 52 pp.

Bosworth, W. R., S. J. Romin and T. Weekley.  2010. Bruneau Dunes tiger beetle assessment.  Idaho Department of Fish and Game, Boise, Idaho, 36 pp.

Fothergill, K.  2010. Observations on mating behavior of the Bruneau Dune tiger beetle, Cicindela waynei Leffler (Coleoptera: Carabidae: Cicindelinae).  CICINDELA 42(2):33–45, 7 color plates.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010

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