Cicindelidae

Tiger beetles. Adults are agile predators in open areas such as stream banks and beaches; a few species are wingless and on tree trunks. Larvae are ambush predators living in vertical tunnels of soil or wood.

Tiger beetles in southeast Missouri

/ Ted C. MacRae / 6 Comments

Figure 1. Sites surveyed in southeastern Missouri for Cylindera cursitans during 2007–2010. Site numbers are referenced in Table 1 (CRP = Cape Rock Park), with red stars indicating sites where C. cursitans was observed. Black box on inset map of Missouri denotes main map area (bordering states include AR to the south and TN, KY, and IL to the east).

ResearchBlogging.orgVolume 43(3) of the journal CICINDELA was published a few weeks ago, and I can truly lay more claim to the issue than anybody else (except perhaps Managing Editor Ron Huber). In addition to having one of my photos (a face-on shot of Tetracha carolina) featured on the cover, I was coauthor on the first of two papers included in the issue and lead author on the second. (And to complete my stamp of ownership, I did the final assembly of the issue as the journal’s Layout Editor.) The two included papers each report the results of surveys conducted in the Mississippi Alluvial Plain of southeastern Missouri (also called the “bootheel” in reference to its shape—see Fig. 1) for tiger beetles whose occurrence in that part of the state was previously not well known. In the first, Fothergill et al. (2011) used a novel survey technique that involved searching beneath irrigation polypipe in agricultural fields to find Tetracha carolina (Carolina Metallic Tiger Beetle); while the second paper (MacRae et al. 2011) reports the results of a multi-year survey to characterize the distribution, habitat associations and conservation status of Cylindera cursitans (Ant-like Tiger Beetle). Together with our three papers on Habroscelimorpha circumpicta johnsonii (Saline Spring Tiger Beetle), Dromochorus pruinina (Loamy Ground Tiger Beetle) and Cylindera celeripes (Swift Tiger Beetle)—all published in the past year—these two papers officially complete the battery of publications that describe our survey efforts for the five tiger beetle species considered of potential conservation concern in Missouri when Chris Brown and I began our faunal studies of the group more than ten years ago.

The first three papers clearly painted a rather gloomy picture—H. circumpicta johnsonii is possibly extirpated from saline spring habitats in central Missouri, D. pruinina is limited to a 2.5 mile stretch of roadside habitat in western Missouri, and C. celeripes is restricted to a few patches of critically imperiled loess hill prairie habitat in extreme northwestern Missouri. Happily, prospects for T. carolina and C. cursitans in Missouri are much better. While both are limited in the state to the southeastern lowlands, our surveys indicated that populations are sufficiently robust and widespread in the area to alleviate any concerns about the potential for extirpation. Tetracha carolina in particular was found abundantly in agricultural habitats and appears to have adapted well to the extensive modifications caused by conversion of the cypress-tupelo swamps that formerly covered the region. Cylindera cursitans (Fig. 2) hasn’t shown nearly the same adaptive capability as T. carolina; however, it has nevertheless found suitable refuge in the ribbons of wet, bottomland forest that persist between the Mississippi River and the levee systems that protect the region’s farmland. For a time it seemed that the same habitats along the St. Francois River that bound the western side of the region weren’t suitable for the species, but after much searching (in often tough conditions!) Kent finally managed to locate a population on the Missouri side of the river opposite a known population in Arkansas.

Figure 2. Cylindera cursitans in southeast Missouri: a) New Madrid Co., Girvin Memorial Conservation Area, 6.vii.2007; b-c) Mississippi Co., Dorena Ferry Landing, 6.vii.2008; d) Mississippi Co., Hwy 60 at Mississippi River bridge, 20.vi.2009. Photos by CRB (a) and TCM (b-d).

Both of these species illustrate how healthy populations of insects are able to hide right beneath our noses. Previous to our surveys, records of T. carolina and C. cursitans in southeastern Missouri were scarce (the latter consisting of a single specimen in the Enns Entomology Museum at the University of Missouri in Columbia, and with considerable searching required before the first field population was finally located). In both cases, perceived rarity was a result not of actual rarity, but rather specific habitat requirement or unusual behavior. While I get great satisfaction out of finding populations of “rare” species and increasing our understanding of their habitat requirements, I also can’t help but wonder if they truly are rare and how many populations I might still have missed—populations that I would have found had I searched in a slightly different manner or at a slightly different time.

REFERENCES:

Fothergill, K., C. B. Cross, K. V. Tindall, T. C. MacRae and C. R. Brown. 2011. Tetracha carolina L. (Coleoptera: Cicindelidae) associated with polypipe irrigation systems in southeastern Missouri agricultural lands. CICINDELA 43(3):45–58.

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

The World’s Largest Tiger Beetle

/ Ted C. MacRae / 28 Comments

Manticora scabra - male (L) and female (R) | Republic of South Africa

Some of the first residents of my new insect cabinets (see ) are also among the newest specimens in my collection. Not long ago I received a box from world tiger beetle expert David Brzoska, who had carefully chosen male/female pairs of a number of tiger beetle species from his impressive world collection and sent them to me as a surprise gift. Now, us North America-bound collectors are limited to just a few genera, e.g. Cicindela (although increasingly recognized as a cluster of several closely related genera), Tetracha, and if we’re really lucky Amblycheila and Omus (the last being one I still have not seen in the field). In the rest of the world (especially the tropics and subtropics), however, generic diversity is much higher, and coming as they did from South America, Africa, Australia, and southeast Asia most of the specimens in the sending represented new genera for my collection. While I was grateful for them all, the specimens that had me leaping for joy was this fine pair of Manticora scabra, one of the so-called “African Giant Tiger Beetles.”

Males of all Manticora spp. have asymmetrically enlarged mandibles

In the case of these beetles, the term “giant” is no exaggeration. The male specimen (above and left) measures a full 54 mm (that’s more than 2 inches, folks!) from the tip of its grossly enlarged mandible to the tip of its abdomen, and even the female at 47 mm length is substantially larger than my 38-mm long male specimen of North America’s largest tiger beetle, Amblycheila cylindriformis. While enlarged male mandibles are a common feature among many beetle groups, Manticora males feature an unusual asymmetry in the mandibles, with the right mandible always much larger than the left (itself enlarged compared to the female mandibles, and even the latter cannot be considered small).  Apparently the asymmetry represents a trade-off in natural selection—males use their mandibles not only to hunt prey but also hold onto the female pronotum during mating and subsequent mate guarding. There is positive selection pressure for larger mandible size, as males with smaller mandibles are more likely to be dislodged from the female by competing males. However, because of the large size of the species, larger male mandibles are less effective for securing normal prey items that tend to be smaller in size. If both mandibles were enlarged to the point needed to securely grip the female pronotum, the male would be unable to feed adequately, but having only one mandible fully enlarged provides sufficient grip while maintaining an ability by the somewhat smaller left mandible to grip regular prey items. A consequence of the mandibular asymmetry is that males ride “to the left” when coupled with females.

The right mandible is larger than the left mandible.

David identified these individuals as the species M. scabra, occurring throughout much of southern Africa (Botswana, Malawi, Mozambique, Republic of South Africa, Tanzania, Zimbabwe—according to Carabidae of the World). I presume the species epithet refers to the roughened surface of the elytra. There are at least two recent treatments of the genus (Werner 2000, Mares 2003); however, I have access to neither because of the exorbitant cost of these books—$247 and $433, respectively (I find it rather ironic that the recent explosion of book-sized treatments of “large” beetles has resulted in publications priced so high that they are inaccessible to most professional entomologists).

Female mandibles are nonetheless impressive despite their smaller size.

I made a trip to South Africa in 1999 and had hoped to see these beetles for myself, but unfortunately this did not happen. Perhaps part of the problem was my impression of these beetles as nocturnal hunters—the prevailing ‘wisdom’ at the time. My field partners and I made several nighttime forays in the semi-arid bushveldt where we were camping, using flashlights to scan the ground for any large black beetles we could find moving about. We found numerous tyrant ground beetles (family Carabidae, genus Anthia) and a diversity of tok-tokkies (family Tenebrionidae), but no Manticora tiger beetles. Shortly after that trip, Oberprieler & Arndt (2000) published an informative summary of the biology of several Manticora populations in South Africa, their most notable finding being that adults are opportunistic diurnal predators that hunt by smell rather than nocturnal visual hunters. Perhaps someday I’ll have another opportunity to visit South Africa and see Manticora adults in the field, but until that time I’m happy to have these two specimens residing in my cabinet.

My sincerest thanks to David Brzoska for these sending me these fine specimens and for the many additional kindnesses he has extended to me during the past few years.

REFERENCES:

Mares, J. 2003. A Monograph of the Genus Manticora. Taita Publishers, 205 pp.

Oberprieler, R. G. & E. Arndt. 2000. On the biology of Manticora Fabricius (Coleoptera: Carabidae: Cicindelinae), with a description of the larva and taxonomic notes. Tijdschrift voor Entomologie 143:71–89.

Werner, K. 2000. The Tiger Beetles of Africa (Coleoptera, Cicindelidae) Volume I. Taita Publishers, 191 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

MacRae Entomology Museum Expansion

/ Ted C. MacRae / 30 Comments

Badly needed drawer space is provided by these gorgeous, antique, hand-made, wooden insect cabinets.

Every five years or so I find myself facing the same dilemma—too many bugs and not enough space to keep them. Each time this occurs, I go through the same thought process trying to decide the best way to solve the problem. Do I create new space by buying new cabinets, or clear existing space by donating “excess” material? If money was no object it would be the former. However, money is an object—a new, premium 25-drawer cabinet costs more than $1,000, not to mention another $400 for the drawers to fill it (if I build them myself—3 times that amount if I buy them already made). In my younger, more care-free days I got away with plunking down this kind of money several times, eventually assembling my current battery of three half-size and three full-size cabinets holding a total of 111 Cornell drawers fully stocked with unit trays. These days, however, there are kids to feed and college costs looming on the horizon. I just can’t swing that kind of dough.

Each cabinet came complete with 10 hand-made, wooden, glass-topped drawers.

The alternative, however—donating away part of my collection, is equally unattractive. I’ve been collecting insects for most of my life, so it’s more than just a hobby—it’s a part of me. Nevertheless, I am able to draw a distinction between a working collection and a hobby collection, and for the most part mine is the former. I have a few “hobby” taxa like treehoppers and leaf beetles and such, and I’ve already made a number of donations from these groups over the years. However, the bulk of my collection—and hence drawer space—is taken up by just three taxa; jewel beetles, longhorned beetles, and tiger beetles. Not only are my research activities in these three groups ongoing, but a considerable amount of the material in these groups consists of voucher specimens for my publications. I just can’t think about divesting myself of material in these groups, at least not at this point in my life. Besides, pulling material for donation is, in itself, a long and very time-consuming process that I would not look forward to.

I’ve actually been debating my options for the past couple of years now, watching nervously as my inventory of specimens housed in temporary cardboard boxes started to balloon from the successes of the past several years of collecting. Temporary boxes are bad—not only is it impossible to integrate the specimens into the organization of the main collection, but they remain vulnerable to that dreaded pest of insect collectors around the world; DERMESTID BEETLES! (The one beetle I don’t like!) The likelihood of having specimens damaged by dermestids is directly proportional to the number of temporary boxes that must be checked periodically looking for any evidence of their presence. I’ve been hit by dermestids more than once, and with the number of temporary boxes that I currently have (more than 50) it has become almost impossible to monitor them frequently enough.

Unit trays designed for Cornell drawers fortuitously fit nicely inside the custom-sized drawers.

Of course, patience is a virtue, and my reward this time for not acting too rashly came in the form of an email sent to the members of our local entomology group by Mark Deering, Director of the Sophia M. Sachs Butterfly House just a few blocks from my office. Mark was an avid butterfly collector in the past but has divested much of his collection in recent years and, as a result, no longer needed the cabinets and drawers he was using to store his collection. The list of items he had for sale included a few Cornell cabinets with drawers, ostensibly perfect for my needs, but it was the last item in the list that caught my eye—several antique, hand-made, wooden, 10-drawer cabinets with drawers. Now, I love my Cornell cabinets—they provide state-of-the-art (albeit industrial-looking) protection for my collection. However, there is something appealing about hand-made, wooden insect cabinets. I can almost see John L. LeConte and George W. Horn themselves standing next to one and pulling a drawer to have a look at its contents. I quickly contacted Mark and made arrangements to look at the cabinets. Mark explained that they were part of a 40-cabinet set housing a collection of pierid butterflies that eventually found its way to the Smithsonian Institution… yes, the Smithsonian (such history!). He had gotten ahold of seven cabinets and was now selling them for a very reasonable price. The cabinets were gorgeous, and it didn’t take long for me to do the math; I could afford to buy three cabinets with drawers for a fraction of what a 25-drawer Cornell cabinet with drawers would cost. That’s 30 drawers total, each with almost as much space as a Cornell drawer.

Drawer 1 of my tiger beetle collection.

I picked up the cabinets a few days later and spent the next two days rearranging furniture in my ‘museum’ to create the perfect showcase spot, cleaning the glass on each drawer (both sides), and transferring my tiger beetle collection into the first cabinet (drawer 1 of which is shown at right). Despite their age several transfers of ownership, the finish is still in very good shape with only minor nicks and scratches that add a sense of history yet don’t detract from their attractiveness. Especially pleasing was the discovery that the Cornell unit trays I use for my collection fit almost perfectly in the drawers (just an annoying empty spot in the upper right corner—this can probably be fitted with a California Academy-sized unit tray, perhaps for holding insect repellent blocks since the drawers and cabinets are not as air-tight as my modern Cornell cabinets). I’ll probably move the rest of my “hobby” taxa into the remaining drawers to free up the Cornell cabinets completely for exclusive use in housing my Buprestidae and Cerambycidae. That will take some time, but it’s a good problem to have. My only fear is that after I move things around and incorporate all of my backlogged material, I will have once again used up all of the newly available drawer space and find myself facing that same dilemma that I face every five years or so!

Perhaps a little teaser is in order—one of the species in the drawer shown at right will be the subject of an upcoming post—can you guess which one? Also, 2 BitB Challenge points to anyone who can correctly identify the country shown in the map behind the drawer.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Return to Calico Rock

/ Ted C. MacRae / 17 Comments

Sandstone glade | nr. Calico Rock, Arkansas.

Although western sand dune endemics were the top goals on my  during last fall’s Annual Tiger Beetle Trip, I started the trip by leaving St. Louis in the most unlikeliest of directions—south! No, I wasn’t trying to get to Denver without having to drive the tedious stretch of I-70 through Kansas. Rather, I wanted to take advantage of the chance to witness active adults of the Missouri/Arkansas disjunct population of Cicindelidia obsoleta vulturina (prairie tiger beetle)—perhaps my favorite of all tiger beetle species—on the sandstone glades near Calico Rock in north-central Arkansas. Widely disjunct from the main population’s eastern limit of distribution in central Texas, I’ve seen them at many locations in the White River Hills of southwestern Missouri and adjacent Arkansas over the past ten years, but never in the area around Calico Rock where they are best known from the state. I already had precise localities where I knew I could see them, as I had found 3rd-instar larvae earlier in the year (some of which had already emerged as adults), so I wanted see them and document the range of variability exhibited by adults at this southeasternmost known extent of the disjunct population’s distribution.

Cicindelidia obsoleta vulturina | nr. Calico Rock, Arkansas.

Although the adults were not quite as numerous as I have found them at certain sites in Missouri, I had no trouble finding them once I got to the area where I had collected the larvae this past June. While showing Steve Spomer our Missouri population last year, he commented that our Missouri adults seemed much less flighty than adults he had seen at Calico Rock. I must say that I agree with him, as I found the adults much more difficult to photograph than those in Missouri. To be honest, I had to stalk nearly ten individuals before the male in the photo above finally allowed me to get close to him. When adults are numerous this is not a problem, but in this case every failed attempt required several more minutes of searching for the next subject. Eventually, however, I got my mojo and started having success with the photographs.

Unlike true spring-fall species, mating occurs in fall instead of spring.

In the main population, and like other members of the genus Cicindelidia, adults are active during the summer months and exhibit the classic “summer” species life history. The Missouri/Arkansas disjunct population, however, shows a phenologic shift in adult activity to the cooler fall months—perhaps in response to the generally droughty conditions that prevail during the summer in this part of the country followed by rains during late summer and into fall. (This is one reason why I think this population may be deserving of separate subspecific status.) In this regard they appear to be “spring-fall” species, but their life history does not match true members of that group, which emerge during fall as sexually immature adults, hibernate during winter, and re-emerge during spring for mating and oviposition. Thus, one never sees adults of classic spring-fall species like Cicindela limbalis mating during the fall. In contrast, adults of this disjunct population emerge, mate, and lay eggs all during the fall before the onset of winter, then they’re done. The eggs hatch during fall and require another season or two to reach 3rd-instar and pupate during the summer for fall emergence.

Coloration likely functions in crypsis, as shown by this individual nestled in amongst moss and lichens.

When viewed as prepared specimens in a cabinet, C. obsoleta and its subspecies are among the most conspicuous of species due to their large size (in Missouri and Arkansas only Tetracha virginica is larger), olive green coloration, and bold white maculations. More than likely, however, the combination of color and markings serve a crypsis function in their native habitat. This is clearly evident with the individual in the above photograph, who had retreated to a moss- and lichen-covered rock crevice in his efforts to evade my lens. Squint your eyes a little bit, and he almost disappears! It must be similar for visually based predators such as birds and lizards.

On more open ground and from a lower angle, the beetle is much more visible.

This same individual, however, becomes quite visible when chased onto more open rock surfaces (and viewed more laterally than from above). It is common to see individuals out in the open such as this, but more often than not when alarmed they fly or run to less exposed areas, relying on their cryptic coloration to avoid detection. In fact, when I follow beetles that have evaded me to the spot where I am sure they must have landed, I often fail to see them even though I am looking almost exactly in the area where they are sitting until they start to crawl and their movement catches my attention.

A rather greenish individual tries to hide amongst lichens and shortleaf pine duff.

I have observed a great deal of variability in coloration and maculation at locations in Missouri, with individuals ranging from bright green to dull olive-green to dark green and even brown, and the markings ranging from complete to interrupted. I saw a similar amount of variability in the Calico Rock population, with the exception of brownish (which I have only seen at the northernmost localities in Missouri) and fully maculated individuals. Most of the Calico Rock individuals were dull olive-green, but the female in the above photo (trying to evade my attentions by hiding amongst lichens and pine duff) was as bright a green as I’ve seen in any individual.

A very weakly maculate individual.

As mentioned above, I didn’t seen any individuals that I would consider fully maculated, and several that I saw were more weakly maculated than any I’ve seen in Missouri. The female in the photograph above was the most weakly-marked individual that I saw, with the lateral and median bands greatly interruped—the latter nearly reduced to small discal spots.

A dark, almost blackish female.

While I did not see brownish individuals as I have seen at the northernmost localities in Missouri, I did see the occasional blackish individual—the one in the above photograph also exhibiting about the greatest degree of macular development that I observed among the adults seen. My impression now is that there are clinal patterns to the coloration and macular development in this disjunct population, with markings tending to be more developed in northern localities. With the specimens collected from this and the many other locations throughout the disjunct population’s range that I have now sampled, a more critical assessment of variability in this population may now be possible.

Beetle's-eye view of sandstone glade habitat.

It has become standard practice for me to photograph tiger beetle habitats whenever I can. However, I’ve become interested recently in trying to understand how tiger beetles perceive their own habitats. While this isn’t possible to know precisely, ground level photographs can provide at least a clue into seeing the world from a beetle’s eye. I almost find this perspective of the glade habitat more interesting than the human perspective shown in the first photograph.

The last sight that their prey sees.

There can be little doubt about what the beetles themselves look like from the perspective of their prey. The photograph above may not properly represent the image generated by an insect’s collective ommatidia, but it certainly must be just as frightening!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Colorado’s Great Sand Dunes Tiger Beetle

/ Ted C. MacRae / 19 Comments

Great Sand Dunes National Park | Saguache and Alamosa Counties, Colorado (click for 1680 x 887 version)

Last year’s Annual Fall Tiger Beetle Trip entered its last day as an unqualified success. Travel partner Jeff Huether and I were doing the “Great Western Sand Dune Tour” on a quest to find and photograph some of North America’s most geographically restricted tiger beetles. The first four days featured successful visits to northwestern Colorado’s Maybell Sand Dunes for Cicindela scutellaris yampae and Cicindela formosa gibsoni, southeastern Idaho’s St. Anthony Sand Dunes for Cicindela arenicola, and southwestern Utah’s Coral Pink Sand Dunes for the prize of the trip—Cicindela albissima. The only endemic that we had failed to find was Cicindela waynei at southwestern Idaho’s Bruneau Sand Dunes (hopefully this was a result of poor fall emergence conditions rather than an indication of further decline of this perilously endangered species).

Small sand dune west of GSDNP in the Nature Conservancy's Medano-Zapata Ranch.

Day 5 featured a visit to southwestern Colorado’s Great Sand Dunes to look for the endemic Cicindela theatina. As on every day previous of the trip, the morning drive saw cool but rising temperatures under bright, sunny skies, so we were optimistic about our chances. Between Great Sand Dunes National Park (type locality of the beetle) and The Nature Conservancy’s Medano-Zapata Ranch west of the park, the entire 290 km² range of C. theatina is on protected land. Not knowing whether the beetle would be out and, if so, how extensively it would occur, our plan was to approach the Park from the west through Zapata Ranch and stop at any sand dunes we sighted along the way until we found the beetle.  It didn’t take long—as soon as we entered the Ranch we began to see small sand dunes in the distance, and within minutes after making the 1-km hike towards one particularly promising looking dune we saw the beetles. Even though this was the fifth western sand dune endemic I had seen in as many days, the first moment I laid eyes upon it was no less exciting—flashing red and green on coppery, white marked elytra, it seemed all hair and teeth!

Great Sand Dunes tiger beetle (Cicindela theatina) | Medano-Zapata Ranch

Despite this being my first sighting of the species, there was no doubt about it’s identity. The only other tiger beetle that occurs with and could possibly be mistaken for C. theatina is the blowout tiger beetle, C. lengi; however, the broad marginal band that runs completely around the elytra and the green/brown dorsal coloration of C. theatina are enough to distinguish it from that species. Temperatures were still a bit on the cool side, but the beetles were already remarkably active and skittish. Like the other sand dune species we had already seen, they were enormously difficult to approach—numerous failed attempts were necessary before I encountered the slightly more cooperative female shown in these photos (although she still required several minutes of stalking to get her sufficiently accustomed to my presence to allow these shots).

Like most sand dune tiger beetles, adults are densely hairy on the lateral and ventral surfaces.

Adults ''hug'' the sand for warmth during the cooler morning hours.

The dense covering of white hairs on the lateral and ventral surfaces of the adults belies their adaptation to the abrading sands of their wind-swept habitat. Scouring sands, however, are not the only hardships that the adults must contend with. Temperatures on the dunes can range from as low as 40° F on a chilly morning to nearly 140° F during the heat of the day. Accordingly, much of the adult beetle’s activities revolve around thermoregulation to maintain optimal body temperatures for activity (Pineda and Kondratieff 2003). These include not only stilting, shade-seeking, and mid-day burrowing to avoid excessive warming (see my post  for examples of these behaviors), but basking to gain warmth when temperatures are still a bit too cool for effective foraging (photo above).

Fabulous metallic red and green highlights on the head and pronotum contrast with the reddish brown elytra and their white lateral markings.

Despite the fact that the entire range of this species is encompassed by protected land, WildEarth Guardians filed a petition for federal listing as an endangered species in 2007 (Tweit 2010). Whether protection will be granted remains to be seen—Coral Pink’s C. albissima has a global range only 1.3% the size of C. theatina‘s range (only slightly more than half of which is on protected land), yet that species has been awaiting listing for nearly three decades now! (Too bad C. theatina doesn’t have real fur, feathers, or those endearing mammalian eyes that would surely allow it to jump to the front of the line.)

For the first time in BitB Challenge history, we have a 4-way tie for the win. Dorian Patkus, Mr. Phidippus, Mike Baker, and David Winter all share the honors for . Mr. Phidippus is the big winner, however, as he strengthens his grip on the overall lead with a lead of 13 or more points over his nearest rivals (Roy, Tim Eisele, Mike Baker, and Dennis Haines). The competition is far from over though—a single misstep is all it would take to see the emergence of a new leader before this session is over.

REFERENCES:

Pineda P. M. and B. C. Kondratieff. 2003. Natural history of the Colorado Great Sand Dunes tiger beetle, Cicindela theatina Rotger. Transactions of the American Entomological Society 129(3/4):333–360.

Tweit, S. J. 2010. Beetle Mania. National Parks 84(4):24–25.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

ID Challenge #15

/ Ted C. MacRae / 27 Comments

Who am I, and where do I live?

It’s been almost a month since the last challenge, and since Alex got back to his roots I think I’ll do likewise. This is a straight up identification—the order and family are obvious (or should be), so I’m going to limit ID points to genus and species. However, to make up for this loss of higher taxa points I’ll be awarding points for correctly guessing/deducing/intuiting where this little beastie lives or providing any unique comments on its natural history. As always, standard challenge rules apply, including moderated comments to give everyone a chance to submit their answers.  Bonus points will be awarded to for answering first in the case of multiple correct answers, and discretionary bonus points are also up for grabs. Good luck!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

I am an Entomologist

/ Ted C. MacRae / 21 Comments

In my last post (Best of BitB 2011), I showed my favorite 13 insect (mostly) macrophotographs from 2011. Such “Best of …” posts have become an annual tradition here at BitB, and I like them because they give me a chance to review my photographs for the year and assess my progress as an insect macrophotographer. Others seem to like them also, as previous editions remain among this blog’s most popular posts despite the passage of time. Hopefully this latest edition will achieve similar popularity, and if it does I will be truly grateful.

Despite this, however, I find that I still have trouble considering myself a true “insect macrophotographer” rather than an “entomologist with a camera.” It’s not that I don’t want or hope to achieve such a moniker, and I’ve been thinking lately about why this should the case. I’ve realized that it really has less to do with self-opinion and more to do with the importance I still place on and satisfaction I get out of my other entomological pursuits. Not only have I been fortunate to find stable employment conducting entomology research, but I’ve also managed to find satisfying outlets for my avocational entomological interests. I am an Entomologist (with a capital ‘E’), and although I’ve enjoyed immensely my recent growth as an insect macrophotographer, I did have other other, purely entomological accomplishments in 2011 that I think also deserve mention:

  • Managing Editor of The Pan-Pacific Entomologist. It has been my life-long goal to become editor of a major entomology journal, and this past April I was presented with just such an opportunity with The Pan-Pacific Entomologist. My seven prior years as the journal’s Coleoptera Subject Editor prepared me well for the role (and further confirmed for me that the chief role was something I wanted to do), and in the seven months since I took over, the Editorial Board and I have processed 50 manuscripts, are about to submit files for our 4th issue, and have shaved more than two months off of the deficit that separates us from our eventual goal of on-schedule publishing.
  • Five papers published. With co-authors Chris Brown and Kent Fothergill, 2011 saw the publication of our series of papers assessing the conservation status of the tiger beetles Habroscelimorpha circumpicta johnsonii, Dromochorus pruinina, Tetracha carolina, and Cylindera cursitans in Missouri and Cylindera celeripes in the eastern Great Plains. Survey work for these species dominated my field activities during the past decade and formed the basis for these papers, and it was immensely satisfying to finally see the results of all that work finally appear in print. The real impact of this work, however, will be seen in the coming years as I work with conservation stakeholders who will utilize the information that we have gathered.
  • First seminar presented fully in Spanish. I don’t talk much about my professional activities—part of being an industry entomologist is the necessity to maintain company confidentiality. I have mentioned, however, my role in soybean entomology research and my recent travels to Argentina as part of this work. In November I finally realized one of my professional goals of giving a seminar fully in Spanish. It was a long time coming—I took Spanish lessons for a short time in the late 1990s but have otherwise had only one or two trips per year to Argentina and Mexico with which to improve my skills. It was during my trip to Argentina this past March that something finally ‘clicked’ and I found myself for the first time able to engage fully in conversation. My colleagues in Argentina must have noticed this as well, as it was they who requested that I not only give a seminar during my November visit, but that I do so in Spanish. The presentation went well, and I now find myself more motivated than ever to pursue what before seemed only a pipe dream—full fluency.
  • Senior Research Entomologist. After three decades of working as an entomologist—the last two in industry, I now can add “Senior” to my title. What this means in practice I’m not quite sure—I’m still doing largely what I have been doing for the past few years, and in this environment compensation is linked more to accomplishments than title. Maybe it’s just recognition of dogged persistence. Still, it sounds cool and looks good in the email signature line!
  • 32 species/subspecies of tiger beetles! This is the fun stuff! Nothing is more enjoyable for me than locating, observing, and photographing tiger beetles in their native habitats. It’s even better when they are uncommonly observed or rare endemic species. In 2011 I looked for tiger beetles in seven states (Arkansas, Colorado, Florida, Idaho, Missouri, Oklahoma and Utah), and of the 32 total species and subspecies that I found (listed below) the highlights must include three of North America’s rarest tiger beetle species: Cicindela albissima (Coral Pink Sand Dune Tiger Beetle), Cicindela arenicola (St. Anthony Dune Tiger Beetle), and the recently rediscovered Cicindelidia floridana (Miami Tiger Beetle).  Another eight endemic or highly restricted species and subspecies were also found, and I was able to obtain in situ photographs of all eleven in their native habitat (as well as most of the non-endemics that I had not already photographed). In the list that follows, bold text indicates endemics, and links to any photographs I posted are provided when available:
    • Genus Cicindela
      • Cicindela albissima Rumpp, 1962 [photos]
      • Cicindela arenicola Rumpp, 1967 [photos]
      • Cicindela formosa formosa Say, 1817
      • Cicindela formosa generosa Dejean, 1831 [photos]
      • Cicindela formosa gibsoni Brown, 1940 [photos]
      • Cicindela lengi lengi W. Horn, 1908
      • Cicindela purpurea audubonii LeConte, 1845
      • Cicindela scutellaris scutellaris Say, 1823
      • Cicindela scutellaris yampae Rumpp, 1986 [photos]
      • Cicindela sexguttata Fabricius, 1775
      • Cicindela splendida Hentz, 1830
      • Cicindela theatina Rotger, 1944 [photos pending]
      • Cicindela tranquebarica borealis E. D. Harris, 1911
      • Cicindela tranquebarica kirbyi LeConte, 1866
      • Cicindela tranquebarica tranquebarica Herbst, 1806 [photos]
    • Genus Cicindelidia
      • Cicindelidia floridana (Cartwright, 1939) [photos]
      • Cicindelidia haemorrhagica haemorrhagica (LeConte, 1851)
      • Cicindelidia obsoleta vulturina (LeConte, 1853) [photos pending]
      • Cicindelidia punctulata punctulata (Olivier, 1790)
      • Cicindelidia rufiventris rufiventris (Dejean, 1825)
      • Cicindelidia scabrosa (Schaupp, 1884) [photos]
    • Genus Cylindera
      • Cylindera (Cylindera) curistans (LeConte, 1860) [photos]
      • Cylindera (Cylindera) unipunctata (Fabricius, 1775) [photos]
    • Genus Ellipsoptera
      • Ellipsoptera hamata lacerata (Chaudoir, 1854) [photos, photos, photos, photos]
      • Ellipsoptera hirtilabris (LeConte, 1875)
      • Ellipsoptera marginata (Fabricius, 1775)
    • Genus Habroscelimorpha
      • Habroscelimorpha dorsalis saulcyi (Guérin-Méneville, 1840)
      • Habroscelimorpha severa severa (LaFerté-Sénectère, 1841)
      • Habroscelimorpha striga (LeConte, 1875) [photos]
    • Genus Tetracha
      • Tetracha (Tetracha) carolina carolina (Linnaeus, 1767) [photos]
      • Tetracha (Tetracha) floridana Leng & Mutchler, 1916 [photos, photos]
      • Tetracha (Tetracha) virginica (Linnaeus, 1767)

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Best of BitB 2011

/ Ted C. MacRae / 20 Comments

Welcome to the 4th Annual BitB Top 10, where I get to pick my 10 (more or less) favorite photographs of the year. As an insect macrophotographer I still feel like a relative newcomer, although with three seasons under my belt fewer and fewer people seem to be buying it anymore. Granted I’ve learned a lot during that time, but the learning curve is still looking rather steep. I don’t mind—that’s the fun part! With that said, I present a baker’s dozen of my favorite photographs featured here during 2011. I hope they reflect the learnings I’ve had the past year and maybe show some progress over previous years (2009, 2008 and 2010).

One more thing—I’m including a special bonus for the first time in this year’s edition. Each of the photos shown below is linked to a 1680×1120 version that may be freely downloaded for use as wallpaper, printing in calendars, or any other use (as long as it’s personal and non-profit). It’s my way of saying thanks for your readership and support.

From  (posted 8 Jan). I’ve done limited photography with prepared rather than live specimens. However, the recreated aggressive-defensive posture of this greater arid-land katydid (Neobarrettia spinosa)—or “red-eyed devil”—was too striking to pass up. A clean background allows every spine and tooth to be seen with terrifying clarity.

From  (posted 6 Feb). I had never seen a cactus fly until I encountered this Nerius sp. I’m especially fond of the bizzarely-shaped head and un-fly-like spines on the front legs.

From  (posted 17 Feb). This photo of a fungus weevil, Phaenithon semigriseus, is one of the first where I nailed the focus right on the eye at such a magnitude of closeup (~3X) and also got the composition I was looking for. I didn’t notice at the time, but the beetle seems to be “smiling.”

From  (posted 28 Mar). One of the field techniques I’ve been practicing this year is actually holding the plant with the subject in one hand, resting the camera on my wrist and controlling it with the other hand, and manipulating the position of the plant to achieve a desired composition. It’s a difficult technique to master, but the results are worth it. The jumping spider, Euophrys sutrix, represents one of my earliest successful attempts with this technique.

From  (posted 30 Mar). This South American tree fruit weevil looks like it is sitting quite calmly on a branch. In reality, it never stopped crawling while I attempted to photograph it. Crawling subjects are not only difficult to focus on but also almost always have a “bum” leg. I achieved this photo by tracking the beetle through the lens and firing shots as soon as the center focus point flashed, playing a numbers game to ensure that I got at least one with all the legs nicely positioned. I’d have been even happier with this photo if I had not clipped the antennal tip.

From  (posted 4 May). Face shots of predatory insects are hard to resist, and in this one of the fiery searcher beetle, Calosoma scrutator, the angle of the subject to the lighting was perfect for showing off every ridge and tooth in its impressive mandibles.

From  (posted 10 May). I’ve taken plenty of lateral profile shots of tiger beetles, but I like this slightly panned out one especially because of the sense of scale and landscape created by the inclusion of the plantlets and the view over the small rise.

From  (posted 18 May). 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.

From  (posted 15 July). 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 nymphal lichen grasshopper, Trimerotropis saxatilis, is almost invisible when sitting on the lichens that cover the sandstone exposures in its preferred glade habitat. 

From  (posted 23 Aug). I know this is the second beetle face shot I’ve included in the final selections, but it was while photographing this rare Florida metallic tiger beetle, Tetracha floridana, in the middle of the night that I discovered the use of extension tubes to improve the quality of flash lighting (decreased lens to subject distance results in greater apparent light size). This is perhaps one of the best illuminated direct flash photographs that I’ve taken, and I also like the symmetry of the composition.

From  (posted 17 Sep). The three-cornered alfalfa hopper (Spissistilus festinus) is a common pest of alfalfa and soybean in the U.S. However, despite its abundance, I’ve never noticed the bizarre zig-zag pattern of the eyes until I took this photo. Even though both the insect and the background are green, there is sufficient value contrast to create a pleasing composition. Bumping up the ISO and a lower FEC setting prevented overblowing the light greens—easy to do with full flash macrophotography.

From  (posted 4 Oct). This longhorned beetle had settled in for the night on its Ericamera nauseosa host plant, allowing me to use higher ISO and lower shutter speed settings with a hand-held camera to achieve this very pleasing blue sky background, while retaining the sharpness of detail of the subject that comes from full-flash illumination. The blue sky background provides a more pleasing contrast with the colors of this particular beetle and flowers than the black background that is more typically seen with full-flash macrophotography.

From  (19 Dec). An uncommon underside view of these purple tree fungus (Trichaptum biforme) caps and use of flash illumination allows the colors to literally glow against the bright green lichens also growing on the tree. Keeping aperture at a moderate setting allows blurring of the caps further back, adding three-dimensionality to the photo and preventing it from looking ‘flat.’

Well, there you have it, and I hope you’ve enjoyed my selections. Please do tell me if you have a favorite among theses (and if there were other photos posted during 2011 that you think deserved making the final selections).

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011