Unexpected visitors

Cicindela repanda (Bronzed Tiger Beetle) | Lewis Co., Missouri

In late July I began blacklighting on a weekly basis at different locations along the Mississippi River in an effort to gain more detailed information on the distribution of certain tiger beetles along that great watercourse. While attraction of tiger beetles to ultraviolet lights is well documented, it seems to me to be an underutilized method for collecting tiger beetles and recording distributions. Perhaps this is because only certain species are attracted to lights—principally members of the genera Ellipsoptera and Habroscelimorpha [and even one species, Habroscelimorpha striga (Elusive Tiger Beetle), that is seen almost exclusively at blacklights], while others, including the more commonly encountered and speciose genus Cicindela, are rarely attracted to lights. As a result, when I setup a blacklight on a sandy beach along the Mississippi River in La Grange in far northeastern Missouri, I expected to see Ellipsoptera cuprascens (Coppery Tiger Beetle), which I had seen there during the day many years ago, and hoped to see Ellipsoptera macra (Sandy Stream Tiger Beetle), which I have so far seen only in northwestern Missouri. I did not see either of these species, but what I did see was even more unexpected—Cicindela repanda (Bronzed Tiger Beetle).

Feasting on the bounty!

It is ironic that I should be so excited to see this species—it is only the most common species of tiger beetle in Missouri (and probably across much of eastern North America), where chokingly thick populations develop each summer along every waterway in the state. As a species, it is remarkable infidel when it comes to habitat selection, proximity to water appearing to be its only real requirement. I have seen them on virtually every type of stream/river/pondbank regardless of soil type—sand, mud, or any mixture of the two—and note them to be common even on concrete boat ramps (although I have yet to find larval burrows in the latter habitat!). Yet, I have never seen them at a blacklight! Perhaps it was just a matter of time, as until this year I myself hadn’t done much blacklighting for tiger beetles. Populations of this species build as the summer progresses, and it could be that once numbers reach their peak in mid- to late August, a few will find their way to a light that happens to be placed in their midst while the majority of individuals bed down in their overnight burrows.

A macerated bolus is all that remains of the caddisfly meal.

It’s easy to see what might attract them to the light other than the light itself—prey! At every location along the Mississippi River that I’ve blacklighted this summer, choking throngs of caddisflies inundate the sheet within the first half-hour after sunset. Piling up in layers beneath the stupefying light, the caddisflies are a limitless bounty of easy pickings for the tiger beetles, who greedily grab the hapless trichopterans in their toothy, sickle-shaped mandibles and then use their maxillae and digestive juices to macerate them to a juicy pulp that can be sucked dry. I have watched tiger beetle adults feeding on many occasions, but I never noticed until examining these photographs that the feeding beetles hold their antennae back and out of the way against their head and pronotum. Contrast the antennal position of the feeding beetles in the above photographs with the forward position of the antennae in the non-feeding beetles in the remaining photographs. Perhaps this is an adaptation to prevent the antennae from being grabbed and damaged by struggling prey.

A male in more natural-looking surroundings.

Recall also my recent lamentations about lacking good photographs of this species, due initially to lack of effort and later to a rare failure when I did try to photograph them. A half dozen individuals made their way to the light this night, and I was able to coax a few of them off the sheet and onto the surrounding sand for a few photographs in more realistic and natural surroundings. I still don’t consider these to be the photographs that I want for this species, as they do not show any of the thermoregulatory behaviors exhibited during the day such as stilting, sun-facing, or shade-seeking that make for such marvelously iconic tiger beetle poses. For that, I will need to give them another shot on a hot day while summoning every ounce of tiger beetle stalking skill that I can possibly muster. Still, these last two photos (and a few others not shown) are several steps above the single, frustratingly distant lateral profile shot that I had for this species before this night.

All jaws, eyes, legs, and hair!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Very cozy tigers!

In my post Very wary tigers!, I spoke of the frustrations of trying to photograph tiger beetles when conditions of temperature and terrain conspire to make them too wary to approach. This is a common feature of tiger beetle photography in general, but the problem seems to reach its zenith with the “wet sand beach” species—most species inhabiting these habitats tend to be “summer species” active during the hottest part of the season, and their habitats tend to be virtually devoid of any vegetative cover that can be used to the photographer’s advantage. A blazing sun on hot, open sand is not conducive to photographing anything! Still I try, and on that particular day I did manage a few relatively distant photographs of two species, Cicindela repanda (Bronzed Tiger Beetle) and C. hirticollis shelfordi (Shelford’s Hairy-necked Tiger Beetle) but none at all of a third species that was present on the beach, Ellipsoptera cuprascens (Coppery Tiger Beetle).

Ellipsoptera cuprascens (Coppery Tiger Beetle) | New Madrid Co., Missouri

Well, there is always more than one way to skin a cat (or a tiger), and as can be seen in these photographs I took a different approach to that latter species that allowed me to obtain several quite decent photographs of both males and females. Not long after that frustrating day at Cape Rock Park, I found myself again in southeastern Missouri with an opportunity to do some night collecting. It may not be widely known, but certain species of tiger beetles are also active at night and can actually be attracted to ultraviolet (UV) lights. This is particularly true of species in the genus Ellipsoptera, which as a group seem to depend almost exclusively on coastal and fluviatile sand habitats. I have used UV lights in the past to attract nocturnally active species of tiger beetles for photography (see Return to Nowhere), and since I had seen E. cuprascens a few years ago at Steward Towhead in New Madrid County I thought this might be a good spot to try again for photographs of that species.

The relatively coarsely and densely punctate elytra distinguish E. cuprascens from E. macra.

“Might be a good spot” turns out to be quite the understatement, as I have never seen E. cuprascens in such numbers as I did that night! Seeing the species common at the sheet guarantees that individuals will also be found milling around on the ground in the immediate vicinity of the sheet, and unlike during the heat of the day when their bodies shift to thermal overdrive, adults at night are much easier to approach due to the cooler temperatures and the distraction of abundant, easily captured prey sitting transfixed in their UV light-induced stupor. Of course, night photography brings its own set of challenges, primarily (for me) the need to use the camera flash head lamps for focusing—I often find myself repeatedly aborting a shot because the lamps turned off automatically before I had a chance to find the subject and compose the shot to my satisfaction. Still, this is a minor inconvenience compared to the exasperation of subjects blasting across the hot sand when your approach comes within 12 feet!

Males mandibles are modified for grasping the female pronotum during mating.

Ellipsoptera cuprascens is very closely related to E. macra (Sandy Stream Tiger Beetle—see The last tiger beetle), which it resembles greatly and whose ranges overlap here in Missouri (although the latter is far less commonly encountered than the former). The photos in this post show the relatively coarser and denser punctures on the elytra that distinguish E. cuprascens from E. macra, as well as their somewhat shinier surface and distinctly more coppery color. The rounded elytral apices of the female (middle photo) also serve to distinguish the species from E. macra, in which species the elytra of the females come to a point at the suture (Pearson et al. 2006). Note also the sexual dimorphism in the labrum and mandibles of the female (first photo) and male (last photo), with the mandibles relatively longer and slightly curved and the labrum shorter in the latter. Presumably this is related to the use of the mandibles by the males in grasping the female pronotum during mating—the longer, curved mandibles are shaped to precisely fit the contour of the female’s pronotum, while the shorter labrum allows the mandibles to gain better purchase farther down on the side of the female’s pronotum (Pearson and Vogler 2001).

REFERENCE:

Pearson, D. L., C. B. Knisley and C. J. Kazilek. 2006. A Field Guide to the Tiger Beetles of the United States and Canada. Oxford University Press, New York, 227 pp.

Pearson, D. L. and A. P. Vogler.  2001. Tiger Beetles: The Evolution, Ecology, and Diversity of the Cicindelids.  Cornell University Press, Ithaca, New York, 333 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Very wary tigers!

In late July I found a new tiger beetle site in southeastern Missouri—a small sandbar along the Mississippi River near Cape Rock Park on the north side of Cape Girardeau. I originally went to the park to look for Cylindera cursitans (Antlike Tiger Beetle), two specimens of which my friend and colleague Kent Fothergill had found in the collection of a local lepidopterist (MacRae et al. 2012). I thoroughly searched the areas that looked suitable for that species, but to no avail. I did, however, spot the sandbar down by the river and knew immediately that it had good potential for several species typically found in such habitats. Even before hiking down the rocky embankment I figured I would see Cicindela repanda (Bronze Tiger Beetle)—dreadfully common along almost every waterway in the state. What I was really hoping to see, however, were some of the more specialty species found only in wet sand habitats along the big rivers of the state—the Missouri and mighty Mississippi.

”Stilting” and ”sun-facing” by Cicindela hirticollis shelfordi | Cape Girardeau Co., Missouri

Predictably, C. repanda was present and abundant, but it wasn’t long before I spotted some individuals that looked just a little bit different—stockier and with the white markings a little more distinct. A closer look confirmed that these were C. hirticollis shelfordi (Shelford’s Hairy-necked Tiger Beetle). It had been a while since I’d seen this species, and it occurred to me that the only photos I had of it were taken with my point-and-shoot prior to getting my dSLR setup. I then realized also that I didn’t even have good photographs of C. repanda—I’ve been so focused on photographing rare and unusual species over the past few years that I’ve completely neglected photographing our state’s most common resident.

Sand bar habitat along the Mississippi River | Cape Girardeau Co., Missouri.

Over the years, I’ve learned a number of tricks that have allowed me to be fairly successful at approaching tiger beetles closely for photography—working a population to find that one slightly more cooperative individual, and then working that one individual until it becomes accustomed to my presence, perhaps allowing it to “hide” under debris before carefully removing its cover or even “trapping” it in a relatively confined area until it settles down enough to allow photographs. But nothing, not a single thing I tried, worked on this day. As it was through much of July and early August, temperatures were extreme—already well into the 90s despite my mid-morning arrival. Combined with the wide open spaces and a blazing hot sun, the beetles were already extremely active and very wary. The sandbar itself offered little help in corralling the beetles—stark, barren, devoid of any debris or other potential shelters that could be used to my advantage. Stubbornness prevented me from accepting this fact, so I spent the good part of two hours slowly stalking each beetle that looked like it might cooperate, only to have it fly before I could even get down on all fours or, once I did, run incessantly to the point that it was almost impossible to settle it in the frame—much less compose a decent closeup shot. Eventually I decided that the only way I was going to get a beetle standing still in the frame with any degree of closeness was to approach it from the front and try to catch it in one of its intermittent “stilting/sun facing” poses—a thermoregulatory behavior that tiger beetles employ when the sun heats the soil surface to temperatures that would be lethal for many other insects. The first shot in this post is the best of that type that I could manage (although I like its composition very much—I just wish I’d been able to get some closer shots as well).

The ”C”-shaped humeral lunule identifies this individual as Cicindela repanda.

As suggested above, C. repanda and C. hirticollis are quite similar in appearance, and at least in Missouri the latter is always found in association with the former, though only in wet sand habitats along the big rivers and not nearly in the same numbers as C. repanda. Until one develops a feeling based on “gestalt” it can be difficult to pick out individuals of C. hirticollis amongst the commoner C. repanda. I’ve already mentioned their slightly huskier build and somewhat bolder white markings, and C. hirticollis also tends to exhibit a slightly more coppery cast to the body. The surest character to use, however, is the “G”-shaped humeral lunule, which is the white marking on the “shoulders” of the elytra just behind the pronotum. The posterior portion of this marking is nearly transverse and usually angles sharply anteriorly on its inner edge. By contrast, in C. repanda this marking is always “C”-shaped and never curls forward on its inner edge. These characters can be compared in the lateral profile photos of the two species above and below (though not as closely as I would like).

The ”G”-shaped humeral lunule identifies this individual as Cicindela hirticollis.

I should mention that there was one other big river specialty species present on the sandbar—Ellipsoptera cuprascens (Coppery Tiger Beetle). I saw only a few individuals of this species and couldn’t get close enough to one of them to even fire off a single shot. For this species, however, I still had one more trick up my sleeve that allowed me to photograph it to my heart’s content (no, not capturing one and confining it in a terrarium!)…

REFERENCE:

MacRae, T. C., C. R. Brown and K. Fothergill. 2011. Distribution, seasonal occurrence and conservation status of Cylindera (s. str.) cursitans (LeConte) (Coleoptera: Cicindelidae) in Missouri.  CICINDELA 43(3):59–74.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

And the winner is…

Okay, time to fess up on which of my photos was selected for the 2013 ESA World of Insects Calendar, but before I do let me say that getting readers’ comments on which one they thought was selected proved to be a very interesting exercise. The final tally is as follows (I gave ½ a vote for mentions of a photo as a second choice):

1. Trimerotropis saxatilis nymph – 4½ votes
2. Crossidius coralinus fulgidus – 3½ votes
3. Tetracha floridana – 3 votes
4. Buprestis rufipes – 2 votes
4. Edessa meditabunda eggs – 2 votes
6. Megaphasma denticrus – 1 vote

My personal favorites were Buprestis rufipes, Crossidius coralinus fulgidus and Tetracha floridana, with the second having what I thought was the best “calendar appeal.” I also thought the Trimerotropis saxatilis was strong for its natural history back story. It thus comes as no surprise that these were the top four vote-getters among those who commented.

The two photos that did not receive any votes are interesting—Spissistilus festinus, because the post containing that photo is one of the Top 5 posts on this blog (based on page views); and Cicindela formosa generosa, because that was the photo selected by ESA for their 2013 Calendar! I went back and forth on whether to include the photo in the final selections, but it won out over some others I was considering because of its composition—not many tiger beetle closeups contain as much scale and depth. I guess that’s what ESA like about it as well, but whatever the reason it seems I need to develop a better sense of what photo judges are looking for.

Since nobody guessed the correct photo, I’m going to give all who commented 5 “participation” points, and those of you who used italics with scientific names will get an additional 2 bonus points. Brady Richards maintains his spot atop the overalls in BitB Challenge Session #6 with 66 points, but Mr. Phidippus‘ 58 points moves him into second place over Sam Heads with 54 points.

For those who did not vote for this photo (or, everybody!), maybe access to this 1680×1120 version of the photo (click to enlarge) will help change your minds.

Cicindela formosa generosa (Coleoptera: Carabidae: Cicindelinae) – eastern big sand tiger beetle

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

2013 ESA World of Insects Calendar Selection

Today I received word from Richard Levine at the Entomological Society of America that one of my photos had been selected for the 2013 version of their famed World of Insects Calendar!

Excuse me for a moment please… (pumps fist, stirs the pot, does a very bad moon walk…)

Okay, I’m back. Honestly, this is an honor that I did not expect—at least not yet. Historically dominated by such giants in the world of insect macrophotography as Piotr Naskrecki,  Thomas Myers, and others, competition for ESA’s World of Insects Calendar is fierce. Last year more than 500 photographs were submitted for 13 slots (12 months and an introductory page) by 98 photographers from around the world. I was one of those photographers, though not selected (no surprise as I was a first-time submitter). However, I took great pleasure in seeing fellow bug blogger Adrian Thysse nab two of the 2012 slots, and I increased my resolve to try again for next year with a selection of eight mostly newer photographs.

At the suggestion of Dave Stone, I present each of those photos below along with a short description of why I submitted it. However, I’m not going to tell you which photo ultimately was selected—I thought it might be fun to see which photo you think was selected and why. As added incentive for guessing, I’m going to award 10 BitB Challenge points to each person who correctly picks the selected photograph. BitB Challenge Session #6 is coming down to the wire, so this could have a big impact on the overall standings.

The 2013 Calendar will become available for sale later this year (probably October) at the ESA website—last year’s version cost only $12 (discounted to $8 for ESA members, and free for those attending the annual meeting [which I will be attending this year]).


Megaphasma denticrus (Phasmida: Diapheromeridae) – giant walkingstick

From North America’s longest insect (21 Aug 2009).  This is one of my earlier super-closeup attempts. I liked the combination of blue and brown colors on the black background.


Buprestis rufipes (Coleoptera: Buprestidae) – redbellied Buprestis

From Special Delivery (13 July 2010).  The use of a white box shows off the brilliant (and difficult-to-photograph) metallic colors well, and I like the animated look of the slightly cocked head.


Edessa meditabunda (Hemiptera: Pentatomidae) – alquiche chico

From  (18 May 2011). I found these Edessa meditabunda stink bug eggs on the underside of a soybean leaf in Argentina almost ready to hatch. The developing eye spots in each egg gives the photo a “cute” factor rarely seen in such super close-ups.


Cicindela formosa generosa (Coleoptera: Carabidae: Cicindelinae) – eastern big sand tiger beetle

From  (10 May 2011). I like this slightly panned out view because of the sense of scale and landscape created by the inclusion of the plantlets and the view over the small rise.


Trimerotropis saxatilis (Orthoptera: Acrididae) – lichen grasshopper

From  (15 July 2011). Some of my favorite insect photos are not only those that show the bug in all its glory, but also tell a story about its natural history. This nymph is almost invisible when sitting on the lichens that cover the sandstone exposures in its preferred glade habitat. 


Tetracha floridana (Coleoptera: Carabidae: Cicindelinae) – Florida metallic tiger beetle

From  (23 August 2011). I used extension tubes to improve the quality of flash lighting (decreased lens to subject distance results in greater apparent light size), and I like the symmetry of the composition.


Spissistilus festinus (Hemiptera: Membracidae) – threecornered alfalfa hopper

From  (17 September 2011). Even though both the insect and the background are green, there is sufficient value contrast to create a pleasing composition, punctuated by the bizarre zig-zag pattern of the eyes.


Crossidius coralinus fulgidus (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae) – a rabbitbrush longhorned beetle

From  (4 October 2011). The blue sky background provides a pleasing contrast with the colors of this particular beetle and flowers.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Planet’s Coolest Critters – Tiger Beetles

Cicindela scutellaris rugifrons – photo by Harry Zirlin.

Readers of this blog know well (and hopefully share) my affection for tiger beetles (family Cicindelidae). That should come as no surprise, as tiger beetles rank among the most popular of all beetle groups. The reasons for this are many—for me it is their extreme polytopism (geographically based variation in coloration and markings), affinity for extreme habitats, and charismatic behavior (both adults and larvae), while for others it may be from a more basic research perspective (e.g., thermoregulatory behaviors, molecular phylogeny, and visual physiology) or as models for conservation research. I think most, however, will simply declare that tiger beetles are just… well, cool! That is the perspective of Harry Zirlin, who wrote this charming little article entitled, Planet’s Coolest Critters – Tiger Beetles at PetsLady. After introducing the group and its diversity, lifestyles, and behaviors, Harry notes the increasing popularity of tiger beetles with birders, butterfly watchers and nature photography buffs and the recent proliferation of field guides that have enabled their elevation to the ranks of “watchable wildlife.” Maintaining tiger beetles in terraria allows an even closer look at their beauty and behaviors, and Harry gives some useful tips on how best to accomplish this. It’s a pleasant little read, and I recommend you check it out!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Working with Cerceris fumipennis—Part 2

During the 6-week period from late May to early July this year, I collected ~400 jewel beetle specimens representing at least 20 species (see Working with Cerceris fumipennis—Part 1). A final accounting of the species represented won’t be done until this winter, but the genera represented include Acmaeodera, Actenodes, Agrilus, Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia), Buprestis (Knulliobuprestis), Chrysobothris, Dicerca, Poecilonota, and Spectralia. Perhaps two-thirds of the specimens were “ground-picked”¹, while most of the remaining third were “stolen” directly from wasps by netting wasps in flight as they returned to their nest carrying prey.

¹ It’s not clear to me why I found so many abandoned buprestids at nest entrances. The wasps are known to drop prey when threatened and, rather than search for and relocate the prey, fly off to look for a new beetle(Careless et al. 2009). I observed this myself in several cases when I missed netting the wasp but swiped the net close enough to scare it, at which time it dropped the beetle and flew off (and I popped the beetle in a vial). However, the bulk of the beetles I found on the ground were not only at the nest entrance, but even mixed within the diggings surrounding the nest. My first act when checking each field was to check each nest, pick up any adults lying on top of the burrow diggings, and then carefully spread out the diggings with a knife or trowel to collect the beetles hidden within them. One nest contained as many as 13 Agrlus obsoletoguttatus inside the diggings. I wondered at one point if the wasps were leaving the beetles at the burrow entrance and then digging out the burrow before coming back to retrieve them, but I never actually witnessed this. On the other hand, I observed numerous wasps approaching their burrows while carrying prey, and every time the wasp dropped directly into the burrow. In fact, I could even predict what beetle species I was likely to find inside the nest based on the species I found around the entrance (more on that below).

This ball field with contains several dozen Cerceris fumipennis nests.

There is a third method that I used to collect beetles that I haven’t yet discussed, and that is digging them out of nests. In the latter part of the survey period (late June and early July), beetle numbers dropped rapidly, as did apparent wasp activity. As mentioned in the previous post, this drop off in activity came precisely at the time of season when I have observed buprestid beetle activity to decline in Missouri. As the drop off in activity was taking place, I began wondering what I would find if I tried digging up some of the burrows. Of course, digging up a nest takes much more effort than netting wasps or picking beetles up off of the ground, so it becomes important not only to identify whether a nest actually belongs to C. fumipennis and if it is active and likely to contain freshly captured beetles.  In addition, I observed the burrows of a variety of other insects in these fields as well, some of which are shown here and which might be confused with burrow entrances of C. fumipennis.

Cerceris fumipennis nest with Chrysobothris sp. adult left on diggings.

Cerceris fumipennis burrows exhibit perfectly circular, pencil-sized entrances surrounded by a symmetrical mound of diggings with a fine rather than granular texture. There are other Cerceris species that make nearly identical burrows, but they prey on other insects rather than buprestid beetles. At my site I found C. bicornis, a weevil specialist, almost as common as C. fumipennis. Their burrow entrances on the whole seemed slightly larger, but I could not use this as consistent distinguishing character. What I could use, however, was the presence of weevils rather than buprestids lying on the ground near the nest entrance. (I also observed this species returning to its nest and noted a rather faster, more powerful flight that made them even more difficult to capture than C. fumipennis). In contrast, there can be no doubt that the burrow above, with a buprestid beetle lying on the ground near the entrance, belongs to C. fumipennis

² The white plastic tag marks the burrow to facilitate locating nests on subsequent visits. It is secured with a golf tee and also can be rotated so that the hole covers the entrance. The hole is large enough to allow the wasp to leave but too small for a returning wasp to enter while carrying a beetle. The idea was to rotate the tags when I first entered a field to cover all the burrow entrances, watch for wasps returning with prey, and then net the wasps as they tried (in vain) to enter the burrow. However, I never actually observed a wasp trying to enter a covered burrow, even after leaving a field and returning 20–30 minutes later.

I presume this nest to be that of Bembix americana (sand wasp).

For the first few weeks, I thought the burrows such as that shown in the above photo also belonged to C. fumipennis. However, I never found beetles lying on the ground near the entrance, nor did I ever observe a wasp to enter or leave the burrow. I eventually noticed several distinct differences in burrow architecture—the burrow entered the ground at an angle rather than straight down, the diggings were distributed asymmetrically to one side of the entrance, and the latter seemed consistently a little larger than those of C. fumipennis. In addition, these burrows always seemed to be in the sandier portions of the fields. While I never associated any insect directly with these burrows, I did observe sand wasps (perhaps Bembix americana) in the vicinity and have seen similar-looking burrows dug by these wasps at Sand Prairie Conservation Area.

Larval burrows of Cicindelidia punctulata and other tiger beetles lack diggings around the entrance.

Tiger beetle larval burrows might also be confused with C. fumipennis burrows, especially after rain or high winds which can wash/blow away the diggings from around the entrance. I found adults of the punctured tiger beetle, Cicindelidia punctulata, fairly commonly at the site and presume the numerous tiger beetle larval burrows that were also present belong to that species. Larval tiger beetles burrows also enter the ground straight down and are, at first appearance, also perfectly round, but they are usually a little too small for C. fumipennis (those of Tetracha spp. being an exception)—the presumed C. punctulata burrow in the above photo measures about 5 mm in diameter. In addition, closer examination reveals a slight “D” shape to the burrow entrance (upper right in the above photo—the tiger beetle larva rests its jaws against the flat side) and, more distinctively, beveling of the ground around the rim of the burrow entrance. Cerceris fumipennis nests lack the slight D-shape and distinctive beveling.

Use a grass stem as a guide while carefully digging away the surrounding soil.

Years of practice digging up tiger beetle burrows prepared me well for my first attempts at digging up C. fumipennis burrows. While it might seem an easy task to follow a hole into the ground while digging soil away from it, in practice the burrow can be quickly lost after even a few inches due to falling soil covering the hole and making it impossible to relocate. I use a thin, flexible but sturdy grass stem to preserve the burrow path, inserting the stem into the burrow and down as far as it will go and then removing the soil carefully from around the hole with a knife or trowel. I try to avoid letting soil fall over the hole by prying the soil away from the hole, but if the hole does get covered the grass stem allows it to be easily relocated.

This nest contained a single Buprestis rufipes

Cerceris fumipennis burrows are not very deep—only 10–15 cm, and angle to one side a few cm below the surface before leveling out near the bottom. I noticed the nest in the above photo because I saw a wasp fly into it. When I went over to look at it I found a Buprestis rufipes lying on the ground near the entrance and so decided to dig it up. As I expected, I found another B. rufipes at the bottom of the burrow (two above photos courtesy of Madison MacRae).

…while this one contained a cache of seven Agrilus quadriguttatus.

The above photo shows a cache of seven Agrilus quadriguttatus that I found at the bottom of another burrow. In this case, the prey is rather small compared to large prey such as Buprestis and Dicerca. While nests provisioned with species in these latter genera often contained only a single beetle in them, I nearly always found multiple beetles in nests provisioned with the smaller Agrilus species. One nest contained as many as 13 Agrilus obsoletoguttatus, among the smallest of the species I found utilized by C. fumipennis at this site.

Buprestidae taken from five different Cerceris fumipennis nests.

Some of the nests I dug up contained multiple species of beetles, but far more commonly I found only a single species in a given nest. The photo above shows the diversity and number of beetles found on one date after digging up five different nests. From top left the beetles are: 1) 1 Buprestis rufipes; 2) 2 Agrilus quadriguttatus and 1 A. obsoletoguttatus; 3) 2 A. quadriguttatus and 1 A. obsoletoguttatus; 4) 8 A. obsoletoguttatus; and 5) 2 Poecilonota cyanipes, 2 A. quadriguttatus, and 1 A. pseudofallax. It would make sense for wasps to provision nests with greater numbers of smaller beetles to ensure adequate food for their larvae to complete development. How the wasps actually locate their prey, and why this species has specialized almost exclusively on buprestid beetles, is a mystery (at least to me); however (and here comes the speculation du jour), I suspect the wasps may have keyed in on volatiles used by the beetles—either those released by suitable hosts or by each other to facilitate mate location. Use of buprestid pheromones or freshly dead host volatiles would allow wasps to more efficiently locate buprestid prey and, once locating a source (a tree harboring a particular beetle species), could return repeatedly to provision their nest fully. It seems less likely that wasps rely exclusively on visual location of prey, as this would involve a large amount of random searching through trees and passing up numerous, seemingly equally suitable prey.

REFERENCE:

Careless, P. D., S. A. Marshal, B. D. Gill, E. Appleton, R, Favrin & T. Kimoto. 2009. Cerceris fumipennis—a biosurveillance tool for emerald ash borer. Canadian Food Inspection Agency, 16 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Just published: Cicindela 44(1) March 2012

Issue 44(1) of the journal Cicindela is now hitting mailboxes. This one-paper issue features an article by Chandima D. Dangalle and Nirmalie Pallewatta (University of Colombo, Sri Lanka) and Alfred P. Vogler (The Natural History Museum, London) reporting the results of a survey of tiger beetles of Sri Lanka and analysis of their habitat specificity. The authors sampled 94 locations on the island representing six habitat types: coastal and beach habitat, river and stream banks, reservoir systems, urban man-made sites, agri-ecosystems and marshy areas, finding ten species in the genera Cylindera, Calomera, Hypaetha, Lophyra and Myriochile at 37 locations representing all habitat types except the last two. The study further revealed that the species of tiger beetles were restricted to different habitat types, with most displaying a high degree of habitat specificity. Statistical analysis revealed significant differences between two or more species in four factors: solar radiation (i.e., sun or shade), soil salinity, soil moisture and wind speed. This suggests that these are the key factors involved in habitat selectivity in Sri Lankan tiger beetle species. Other factors such as temperature, relative humidity, soil type and soil color did not differ significantly between habitats for the different species, suggesting that these criteria are essential for tiger beetle survival in any habitat type.

You may also notice that my photo of Cicindela arenicola, taken last fall in Idaho Falls, graces the cover of this latest issue. Contact Managing Editor Ron Huber to begin your subscription—membership is a very nominal $10 per year in the U.S., a little more elsewhere to cover additional postage.

REFERENCE:

Dangalle, C. D., N. Pallewatta & A. P. Vogler. 2012.  Habitat specificity of tiger beetle species (Coleoptera, Cicindelidae) of Sri Lanka. Cicindela 44(1):1–32.