Ospriocerus abdominalis

August 18, 2009July 22, 2013 / Ted C. MacRae / 18 Comments

Photo details: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power w/ diffuser caps.

My dipteran digression continues with this photograph of the robber fly, Ospriocerus abdominalis (Diptera: Asilidae). More than just a pretty picture, this represents yet another apparently new state record that I and my colleague Chris Brown discovered a few weeks ago during our 2-day survey of Missouri’s critically imperiled hilltop prairies in the extreme northwest corner of the state. Like the previously discussed Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle) and Beameria venosa (a prairie-obligate species of cicada), O. abdominalis has not previously been recorded further east than Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma and Texas. This large fly is a grassland denizen that ranges over western North America and into Mexico (Cannings 1998, as Ospriocerus aeacus). It is somewhat suggestive of a mydas fly, although its short antennae immediately identify it as a robber fly (mydas flies have elongate clubbed antennae). It also reminds me of the magnificent western robber fly Wyliea mydas by its mimetic, wasp-like coloration – presumably modeled after spider wasps of the genus Pepsis and Hemipepsis (Hymenoptera: Pompilidae) – but is distinguished by its black body and wings with red dorsal coloration on the abdomen (W. mydas has the abdomen wholly black and the wings red). While not quite as handsome as W. mydas, it is impressive nonetheless.

The dry hilltop prairie remnants in which O. abdominalis, B. venosa, and C. celeripes were found are associated with the Loess Hills, a unique landform along the western edge of Iowa that reaches its southern terminus in extreme northwest Missouri. Due to their extreme rarity and vulnerability to woody encroachment and anthropogenic degradation, these remnant habitats are considered one of Missouri’s most critically imperiled natural communities. Only about 50 acres of original habitat remain, and of this only half is in public conservation ownership. Many of the plants and animals found in these habitats represent hypsithermal relicts that migrated eastward during a dry and warm period after the last ice age and were then “left behind” in pockets of relictual habitat as a return to cooler, wetter conditions forced the main populations back to the west. More than a dozen plants and two vertebrates occurring in these prairies are listed as species of conservation concern. As is typically the case, the flora and vertebrate fauna of these remnant habitats have been fairly well characterized, while precious little attention has been given to the vastly more diverse invertebrate fauna. As we begin to study the insects of these habitats more carefully, we are almost sure to find a great many species that are more typically found further to the west and that live nowhere else in Missouri. Their continued presence in the state will be wholly dependent upon the critically imperiled habitats in which they live, making conservation and restoration of the remaining loess hilltop prairie remnants in Missouri all the more important.

My thanks to Eric Fisher and Herschel Raney for confirming the identity of O. abdominalis.

REFERENCES:

Cannings, R. A. 1998. Robber Flies (Insecta: Diptera: Asilidae), in Smith, I. M., and G. G. E. Scudder, eds. Assessment of species diversity in the Montane Cordillera Ecozone. Burlington: Ecological Monitoring and Assessment Network.

Overlooked, needle-tailed, thick-headed fly

August 14, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 10 Comments

Photo details: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/16, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power w/ diffuser caps.

While photographing the rare Typocerus deceptus on flowers of wild hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescens) at Trail of Tears State Park in southeast Missouri last June, I encountered this strange fly also visiting the hydrangea blossoms. At first I thought it was some weird type of syrphid fly, but it turns out to be a member of an even more unusual group of flies in the appropriately-named genus Stylogaster¹. Although classified in the family Conopidae (thick-headed flies), members of this genus are placed in their own subfamily (Stylogastrinae) due to their unusual morphology and biology (obligate parasites of crickets, cockroaches and calyptrate flies). Ninty-two described species are currently placed in the genus, only two of which occur in North America (the remainder are found chiefly in the Neotropics and in sub-Saharan Africa and southeast Asia). This individual appears to be a female S. neglecta because of its short 2nd antennomere (antennal segment) and highly elongate 3rd antennomere (in S. biannulata, the 2nd antennomere is almost as long as the 3rd). Thus, the “overlooked, needle-tailed, thick-headed fly” – and who said common names are easier?

¹ Derived from the Latin stilus (needle) and the Greek γαστηρ (belly, stomach), a reference to the highly elongated female abdomen, or “tail.”

Morphologically, stylogastrines are distinguished from other conopids by their eggs, which feature a rigid barbed tip. This, along with some behavioral observations, seems to imply a shooting oviposition technique; however, morphological evidence suggests that the eggs are forcibly jabbed into their hosts (Kotrba 1997). The larvae hatch and develop inside their host as internal parasites, but other than the egg very little is known about the life histories of species in this genus (Couri and Pont 2006). Adults are further distinguished by their long proboscis, which exceeds the length of the body when fully extended and is used to access nectar within a variety of flowers. Adult females aggressively intercept hosts in-flight for oviposition, and speculation has been made that they are obligate associates of army ants (New World subfamily Ecitoninae and Old World subfamily Dorylinae), relying upon the ants’ raiding columns to flush out their prey. However, since the genus also occurs in Madagascar and parts of Africa where army ants are completely absent, it is clear that at least some species of Stylogaster have no obligatory association with these ants (Stuckenberg 1963, Couri and Pont 2006).

REFERENCES:

Couri, M. S. and A. C. Pont. 2006. Eggs of Stylogaster Macquart (Diptera: Conopidae) on Madagascan Muscids (Diptera: Muscidae). Proceedings of the California Academy of Science 57(16):473-478.

Kotrba, M. 1997. Shoot or stab? Morphological evidence on the unresolved oviposition techique in Stylogaster Macquart (Diptera: Conopidae), including discussion of behavioral observations. Proceedings of the Entomological Society of Washington 99:613-621.

Stuckenberg, B. R. 1963. A study on the biology of the genus Stylogaster, with the description of a new species from Madagascar. Revue de Zoologie et Botaniques Africaines 68:251-275.

The last tiger beetle

August 11, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 22 Comments

Our recent discovery of Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle) in Missouri was arguably the most exciting moment that I and colleague/fieldmate Chris Brown have experienced since we first began surveying the tiger beetles of Missouri back in the year 2000. It was the 24th species that we had recorded for the state and the latest of several for which we had searched through targeted surveys during the past few seasons. Earlier surveys have already produced a new record for Cicindela trifasciata ascendens (ascendant tiger beetle), “rediscovered” Cylindera cursitans (ant-like tiger beetle) and Dromochorus pruinina (frosted dromo tiger beetle), precisely characterized the limited in-state distributions of Habroscelimorpha circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle) and Cicindela obsoleta vulturina (prairie tiger beetle), and generated copious distributional data for the remaining more generally distributed species.

Yet, there still remained one species that we had not managed to find ourselves – Ellipsoptera macra (sandy stream tiger beetle). This species was recorded from a few localities along the Missouri River in northwestern Missouri by Willis (1967), and we have examined a small number of additional specimens in the Enns Entomology Museum. According to the literature, this species occurs near the water’s edge on sandy habitats along large rivers – precisely the type of habitats in which we have encountered the closely related E. cuprascens (coppery tiger beetle), which we have found at several locations along the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers. Each time we found E. cuprascens we expected/hoped to see E. macra as well but never did. The reasons for this remained a mystery to us until I noted a comment on the Tiger Beetles of Nebraska website stating that blacklighting is usually more productive for this species than daytime collecting. With its known occurrence in northwestern Missouri, our planned survey for C. celeripes in that part of the state this season offered a perfect opportunity to try to find this, the last tiger beetle species in Missouri that we had not yet collected ourselves. Our plan was to search loess hilltop prairie habitats during the day for C. celeripes, then blacklight along the Missouri River at night to look for E. macra. Both species seemed like longshots – we’d searched for each many times, and we were willing to spend several consecutive weekends from late June to mid-July on our survey so that we could claim that we had given it our best shot. Of course, as you know, we succeeded in finding C. celeripes on the first day of our first weekend, and we would also enjoy the same success with E. macra later that evening.

Chris Brown looks for Ellipsoptera macra amongst the swarm.

Chris Brown braves the swarm to look for individuals of Ellipsoptera macra.

We setup two blacklights at a public fishing access along the Missouri River (explaining to some puzzled locals exactly what we were doing and why), turned the lights on, and sat back with pizza and merlot as we waited for things to start coming to the sheets. We had been to this site before in previous years and found E. cuprascens here, suggesting that suitable habitat was present in the area. Almost immediately a growing cloud of all manner of aquatic insects began swarming around the lights, landing on the sheets – and flying down our shirts and in our hair whenever we tried to approach! I don’t blacklight as much as I did in my younger days, but even then I wasn’t much of a fan of blacklighting near water for precisely these reasons. We hadn’t had the lights going for more than 15 minutes or so before we saw the first tiger beetle crawling on the bottom of the sheet below the light. It looked like cuprascens, but I placed it live in a vial anyway for photographs the next morning. Then there was another… and another… Soon, they were coming in with regularity, and I quickly ran out of vials in which to keep live individuals separately. I’ve never seen tiger beetles come to blacklights like this, but we still weren’t convinced they were E. macra until later that night when we got back to the hotel and had a chance to take a close look at them with good light. There was no doubt about it – we had finally found E. macra in Missouri!

This species is very similar to E. cuprascens, but the elytra are not as shiny and with smaller, shallower punctures than the latter. Some references mention a more recurved lower portion of the humeral lunule and a generally more green than bronze coloration (Pearson et al. 2006), but these characters were tenous at best with the specimens we had in hand (see photo below). The best character we have found to separate the two species is by examining the female elytra – in E. macra the sutural apex is acute, while in E. cuprascens it is rounded (Willis 1967). We returned to the site the next morning to see if we could find them during the day, and although we did manage to find a few, they were nowhere near as numerous as we had seen them at the blacklights the night before. The following photograph is of an individual captured that evening and then “released” back into the field the following morning – they were quick to fly once released, and only after several individuals and trying the “lens cap” technique did we succeed in getting some good shots.

Ellipsoptera macra

We didn’t get a chance to use blacklights in subsequent weekends to see if we could find E. macra in other localities along the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers – with E. macra and C. celeripes success already in hand, I quickly turned my attention to the White River Hills of southwestern Missouri and their gorgeous glade habitats to look for one of North America’s most beautiful cerambycid beetles, Plinthocoelium suaveolens (more on that in a future post). However, I am confident that E. macra will be found at other spots in Missouri should we decide to look for them with blacklights. Having encountered all 24 species of tiger beetles known from Missouri, I present here a checklist of those species.

CHECKLIST OF TIGER BEETLES IN MISSOURI
(classification and common names by Erwin and Pearson 2008)

Tribe CICINDELINI
Subtribe MEGACEPHALINA
Tetracha (s. str.) carolina carolina – Carolina Metallic Tiger Beetle
Tetracha (s. str.) virginica – Virginia Metallic Tiger Beetle

Subtribe CICINDELINA
Cicindela (s. str.) duodecimguttata – 12-spotted Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (s. str.) formosa generosa – Eastern Sand Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (s. str.) hirticollis shelfordi – Shelford’s Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (s. str.) limbalis – Common Claybank Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (s. str.) purpurea purpurea – Cowpath Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (s. str.) repanda – Bronzed Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (s. str.) scutellaris lecontei – LeConte’s Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (s. str.) sexguttata – Six-spotted Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (s. str.) splendida – Spendid Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (s. str.) tranquebarica tranquebarica – Oblique-lined Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (Cicindelidia) obsoleta vulturina – Prairie Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (Cicindelidia) punctulata punctulata – Punctured Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (Cicindelidia) rufiventris rufiventris – Eastern Red-bellied Tiger Beetle
Cicindela (Cicindelidia) trifasciata ascendens – Ascendant Tiger Beetle
Cylindera (s. str.) celeripes – Swift Tiger Beetle
Cylindera (s. str.) cursitans – Ant-like Tiger Beetle
Cylindera (s. str.) unipunctata – One-spotted Tiger Beetle
Dromochorus pruinina – Frosted Dromo Tiger Beetle
Ellipsoptera cuprascens – Coppery Tiger Beetle
Ellipsoptera lepida – Ghost Tiger Beetle
Ellipsoptera macra macra – Sandy Stream Tiger Beetle
Habroscelimorpha circumpicta johnsonii – Johnson’s Tiger Beetle

Photo details:
Blacklighting: Canon 17-85mm zoom lens on Canon EOS 50D (manual mode), ISO 100, 1/30 sec, f/11, on-camera flash.
Ellipsoptera macra: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D (manual mode), ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power w/ diffuser caps.

REFERENCES:

Erwin, T. L. and D. L. Pearson. 2008. A Treatise on the Western Hemisphere Caraboidea (Coleoptera). Their classification, distributions, and ways of life. Volume II (Carabidae-Nebriiformes 2-Cicindelitae). Pensoft Series Faunistica 84. Pensoft Publishers, Sofia, 400 pp.

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.

Willis, H. L. 1967. Bionomics and zoogeography of tiger beetles of saline habitats in the central United States (Coleoptera: Cicindelidae). The University of Kansas Science Bulletin 47(5):145-313.

North America’s smallest cicada

August 4, 2009July 22, 2013 / Ted C. MacRae / 17 Comments

Photo details: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/18, MT-24EX flash 1/2 power w/ diffuser caps.

While searching the hilltop prairies for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle) at McCormack Loess Mounds Natural Area in northwestern Missouri, I ran across a species of cicada that I’d not yet encountered in the state – Beameria venosa. Cicadas as a rule are quite large insects, but with a body measuring only 16 mm (well under an inch) in length, B. venosa is one of – if not the – smallest species of this group in all of North America. Had it not been for its distinctly cicada-esque call I might have thought it was some sort of fulgoroid planthopper (albeit a rather large one). But a cicada it is, and a beautiful one at that despite its small size.

Beameria venosa is a prairie obligate species occurring from Nebraska and Colorado south to Texas and New Mexico. To my knowledge, it has not been formally recorded from Missouri, although it is certainly already known from the state (it is listed in the 2009 issue of Missouri Species and Communities of Conservation Concern Checklist as “vulnerable” due to the restricted occurrence in Missouri of the prairie habitats in which it lives). Froeschner (1952) listed 14 species of cicadas from Missouri but did not include this species even among those of possible occurrence in the state. In my younger days, I managed not only to find all 14 of those species, but also a fifteenth species – the magnificent Tibicen superbus – in the southwestern corner of the state (formally recorded from the state some years later by Sanborn and Phillips 2004). The occurrence of B. venosa in Missouri now brings to 16 the number of cicada species known from Missouri.

Despite its small size, the calling song of B. venosa is quite audible. In fact, it was only due to its call that I noticed and began looking for this individual. This brings up an interesting point regarding conspicuous insect songs and their role in enhancing predation risk. Many predators are known to orient to the calls of cicadas (Soper et al. 1976), which in turn exhibit a variety of predator avoidance behaviors such as high perching, hiding, fleeing, and perhaps even mass emergence in the periodical cicadas. Beameria venosa appears to avoid predators by producing its continuous train of sound pulses at a very high frequency. Although audible to humans, the high frequency call apparently is not audible to birds and lizards – their chief predators (Sanborn et al. 2009). In the open, treeless prairies where B. venosa lives, high frequency calling appears to provide the selective advantage for predator avoidance that fleeing, hiding, and high perching cannot.

REFERENCES:

Froeschner, R. C. 1952. A synopsis of the Cicadidae of Missouri. Journal of the New York Entomological Society 60:1–14.

Sanborn, A. F., J. E. Heath and M. S. Heath. 2009. Long-range sound distribution and the calling song of the cicada Beameria venosa (Uhler) (Hemiptera: Cicadidae). The Southwestern Naturalist 54(1):24-30.

Sanborn, A. F. and P. K. Phillips. 2004. Neotype and allotype description of Tibicen superbus (Hemiptera: Cicadomorpha: Cicadidae) with description of its biogeography and calling song. Annals of the Entomological Society of America 97(4):647-652.

Soper, R. S., G. E. Shewell and D. Tyrrell. 1976. Colcondamyia auditrix nov. sp. (Diptera; Sarcophagidae), a parasite which is attracted by the mating song of its host, Okanagana rimosa (Homoptera: Cicadidae). The Canadian Entomologist 108:61-68.

Salt Plains National Wildlife Refuge

July 28, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 12 Comments

I’ve written quite a few posts about my June trip to northwestern Oklahoma. Four days at the ruggedly scenic Four Canyon Preserve and nearby Packsaddle Wildlife Management Area yielded a few interesting jewel beetles (though not many tiger beetles), but the followed two days in the red clay/gypsum hills just north of there were as successful a two-day period as I’ve ever had, with new localities for Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle) and true field photographs of Dromochorus pruinina (frosted dromo tiger beetle¹). The next day was spent at nearby Salt Plains National Wildlife Refuge, just east of the red clay hills in Alfalfa Co. Salt Plains is best known for its Selenite Crystal Dig Area, where an estimated 30,000 annual visitors dig for Oklahoma’s State Crystal with its unique hour glass-shaped inclusion (the only known site where these crystals are found). A dominant feature of the refuge, however, is its 10,000 acre saline flat – left behind by the vast Permian seas that once covered the interior of the continent and the largest such salt flat in the Great Plains. It was this feature that drew my interest.

¹ Common names according to Erwin and Pearson (2008).

I first visited Salt Plains a few years ago when fieldmate Chris Brown and I were near the end of a rather unproductive (yet still enjoyable) fall tiger beetle trip to the nearby Gypsum Hills of south-central Kansas (Cicindela pulchra had eluded us – for the time being!). We noted the refuge on the map and decided to take a look – becoming instantly enamoured with the diversity of tiger beetles seen running on its barren, salt-encrusted mud flats. I returned the following fall with long-time fieldmate Rich Thoma and Hardtner, KS resident “Beetle Bill” Smith, who introduced us to the refuge biologist so we could get permits to do some proper collecting. Most of the tiger beetles we saw were widespread and familiar to me – Cicindela species proper such as C. formosa formosa (big sand tiger beetle), C. tranquebarica (oblique-lined tiger beetle), C. punctulata (punctured tiger beetle), and C. repanda (bronzed tiger beetle), but it was the creamy white Eunota togata globicollis (alkali tiger beetle) that had me swiping my net for the next hour or two. Sadly, those were in my pre-photographer days, so I have no visual record of that species other than the pinned specimens in my collection.

My visit during this trip was completely unplanned. After the mid-week’s thunderstorms chased me back to this part of the state, I thought this would be a nice contrast to the red clay/gypsum hills where I saw C. celeripes and D. pruinina. In addition, the selection of tiger beetles active on the saline flats during this summer trip would likely be quite different from the fall/spring species I had seen on my previous two visits. Trouble was, the unplanned nature of the visit also meant that I didn’t have a permit, but I was prepared to limit my activities to only photography in case I was unable to convince the refuge staff to renew my prior permit. That eventuality was unnecessary, however, as the refuge biologist located my permit in a gray, dusty file cabinet and graciously typed up a new permit for me – good until next summer! With that, I was off to SandPiper Trail and seven hours of stalking, netting, and photographing. Some familiar faces were there again – C. formosa, C. repanda, C. punctulata, and C. tranquebarica (as they are almost everywhere), but I also encountered three beautiful species that I had not seen there before (one of which I had never seen previously). Like E. togata, each of these species is an alkaline habitat specialist that makes its living only in these harsh, saline environments. They were not the easiest species to photograph, easily alarmed in the heat of the day, but the vast open spaces allowed me to follow their escape flights with relative ease, and one-by-one they gradually became accustomed to my presence and eventually allowed me to get at least one or two good shots.

Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii - Knaus' tiger beetle

Habroscelimorpha circumpicta johnsonii - Johnson's tiger beetle

Cicindela fulgida fulgida - crimson saltflat tiger beetle

Along with E. togata globicollis, these species bring the total number of species that I’ve observed at Salt Plains to eight – quite a hyperdiversity given the very small portion of the refuge that I’ve explored during my three visits. Willis (1967) has observed as many as 11 species in a single habitat, and while this may seem to violate the principle of competitive exclusion (limiting the number of species that can occupy a given niche), careful observation reveals small but distinct partitionings of this harsh environment by the different species. For example, C. fulgida was seen in the drier, more vegetated fringes around the flats, E. nevadica knausii was observed in moist, open areas near the water’s edge, and H. circumpicta johnsonii was more generally free ranging across the open salt surfaces. Temporal separation combines with spatial separation to further subdivide the habitat – the latter two species occur as adults during summer, while E. togata globicollis and C. fulgida adult occurrence is primarily during spring and fall (the individual I saw was likely a stragler). I have noted the same phenomenon with species occurring in clay habitats here in Missouri, with as many as six species seen at a single highway intersection in the White River Hills a few years ago.

Photo details:
Landscapes: Canon 17-85mm zoom lens on Canon EOS 50D (landscape mode), ISO 100, 1/50-60 sec, f/7.1-6.3, natural light.
Beetles: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D (manual mode), ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power w/ diffuser caps.

REFERENCES:

Erwin, T. L. and D. L. Pearson. 2008. A Treatise on the Western Hemisphere Caraboidea (Coleoptera). Their classification, distributions, and ways of life. Volume II (Carabidae-Nebriiformes 2-Cicindelitae). Pensoft Series Faunistica 84. Pensoft Publishers, Sofia, 400 pp.

Oklahoma is for lovers

July 24, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 24 Comments

A few rather risqué photos from my June trip to northwestern Oklahoma.

Eleodes suturalis (family Tenebrionidae) - June 6, 2009 at Four Canyon Preserve, Ellis Co., Oklahoma

Chrysobothris ignicollis (family Buprestidae) - June 6, 2009 at Four Canyon Preserve, Ellis Co., Oklahoma

Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii ("family" Cicindelidae) - June 12, 2009 at Salt Plain National Wildlife Refuge, Alfalfa Co., Oklahoma

Photo details:
Eleodes suturalis: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/13, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power through diffuser caps.
Chrysobothris ignicollis: Canon 65mm 1-5x macro lens on Canon EOS 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/13, MT-24EX flash 1/8 power through diffuser caps.
Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power through diffuser caps.

Dromochorus pruinina in Oklahoma

July 21, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 9 Comments

As my colleague Chris Brown and I continue to study the tiger beetle fauna of Missouri, one of the species we have become very interested in is Dromochorus pruinina (frosted dromo tiger beetle). This is another of North America’s more enigmatic species and is one of a handful of species in Missouri – along with Cylindera cursitans (ant-like tiger beetle), C. celeripes (swift tiger beetle), Habroscelimorpha circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle), and Cicindela (Cicindelidia) obsoleta vulturina (prairie tiger beetle) – whose highly restricted distributions within the state make them worthy of special consideration for conservation (see Saving Missouri’s tigers and Revisiting the Swift Tiger Beetle – Part 3). Of these, D. pruinina appears to be the most highly localized – thus far we have found this species only in west-central Missouri along a 2.5 mile stretch of roadside habitat in Knob Noster State Park. This tiny population is not only the easternmost known occurrence of the species, but is also disjunct from the main population in Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas by nearly 100 miles. As a result of this extreme localization within the state, the species has been accorded a conservation status in Missouri of S1 – the state’s highest conservation ranking.

Dromochorus pruinina is secretive and easily overlooked, and as a result little is known about it – in fact, the larva was unknown until just last year (Spomer et al. 2008). There has also been little agreement on what to call it – many authors (e.g., Freitag 1999, Pearson et al. 2006) have considered it a synonym or subspecies of D. belfragei (loamy-ground dromo tiger beetle) from Texas; however, Spomer et al. (2008) and Erwin and Pearson (2008) consider it a valid species based on its smooth elytra in contrast to the granulated elytral surface of D. belfragei and the apparent lack of intergrades in central Texas where their geographical distributions overlap. It was one of the species I had hoped to see during my early June visit to The Nature Conservancy’s Four Canyon Preserve in northwestern Oklahoma; however, I would not see this species there despite its abundance of exposed red clay slopes. Following that visit, as I sat in a coffee shop in north-central Oklahoma trying to predict where the pounding rainstorm outside was least likely to spoil my collecting plans for the next few days, this species again came to my mind when I decided to go back to the red clay/gypsum hills just north of Four Canyon Preserve – where I had just seen the even more enigmatic C. celeripes. I noted that this corner of Oklahoma was just at the western edge of the distribution given by Pearson et al. (2006) for the species, but still read through the notes on its habits and habitats in the off chance that I might still encounter it. Despite all the forethought, it was nevertheless a surprise when an adult bolted across my path soon after beginning my search of the Gloss Mountains the next day (see Revisiting the Swift Tiger Beetle – Part 2). Like C. celeripes, this species is flightless and runs swiftly – perhaps even more so – as it dashes between clumps of vegetation before disappearing. It’s larger size would seem to make it easier to capture than C. celeripes, but that is not the case, yet I still managed to capture all three individuals I saw during the course of the several hours I spent on the lower talus slopes at the Gloss Mountains Scenic Overlook that morning. With none of them could I even make an attempt at field photographs – their repeated mad dashes for cover eliminated all opportunity. I placed the three individuals into a terrarium of native soil, resigned that I would have to settle for photographs in confinement (there is nothing wrong with confined photographs, which look every bit as natural as true field photographs – still, there is just something about not succeeding in photographing the subject in its native habitat).

I returned to the Gloss Mountains late in the day and completed my search for C. celeripes in the State Park across the highway (and also saw my first massasauga rattlesnake). By then it was about 7:00 pm, and my thoughts turned back to the D. pruinina I had seen across the highway earlier that day. I recalled the tendency of the Missouri population of D. pruinina to be most active in the few hours before dusk and decided to have another go at them. No sooner than I had begun to climb the talus slope did I see another one – he bolted into a grass clump, and despite my best attempts to tear the vegetation apart he was gone. Frustrated, I got up and started walking up the slope again – and saw another one, with the same result! Now I was mad. I started searching the rankly vegetated clay slope with determination, and it wasn’t long before I saw a third individual higher up on the slope. It was then and there that I decided I was going to get a field photograph. I stopped dead in my tracks so as not to further disturb the beetle, and carefully took off my backpack and put my camera together as I kept a watchful eye on him. Once ready, I moved slowly toward him – and he bolted. This time I managed to catch him before he disappeared. Okay – I’ve got one in the hand, now what? I decided to try the time-out trick – placing him in the middle of an open area on top of the small mesa and covering him with my camera lens cap. With luck, being covered momentarily would cause him to “settle down” long enough for me to get some shots. I waited a few minutes, then carefully lifted up the lens cap – out he bolted with a vengeance. Time for a new strategy. I started blocking his path with my free hand everytime he tried to run out of the open area I had designated for him, hoping that he would eventually tire and rest momentarily – this was the strategy I successfully employed to get my first field photographs of C. celeripes the day before at Alabaster Caverns (see Revisiting the Swift Tiger Beetle – Part 1). I did this for several minutes, and the little bugger just refused to settle down. Finally, as I took my eye off of him for a split second, he disappeared into an adjacent grass clump and was never seen again. By now I was so frustrated that I considered giving up. Of course, I couldn’t – there was still daylight, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this game, it’s persistence. I started walking back down the slope searching for another individual, and right at the edge of the vegetated area I saw one running for cover. This time I cut him off at the pass and forced him to run back towards the more open area of the upper slope. Once out in the open, I continued to follow him as he nervously ambled across the slope into and out of erosion channels, looking for a place to hide. Everytime he siddled up against a chunk of clay or tried to crawl into a crack I forced him out. In the open expanse of the upper slope where I had him trapped, he eventually started pausing – not for long, but just long enough that I could get a shot or two in before he started running again. Eventually, I got several shots that I thought might turn out acceptable. I briefly looked at my camera to try another setting, looked up, and he was gone! By now it was past 8:30 pm, and the sun was sinking fast. I decided that I had given it my best effort, and that whatever shots I had would have to do. I share with you here three of the five shots that I kept.

Photo details: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14-16, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power through diffuser caps.

REFERENCES:

Freitag, R. 1999. Catalogue of the tiger beetles of Canada and the United States. National Research Council Canada, Ottawa, Ontario, 195 pp.

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.

Spomer, S. M., P. D. Nabity and M. L. Brust. 2008. Larval description of Cicindela (Dromochorus) pruinina (Casey) (Coleoptera: Carabidae: Cicindelinae) with notes on habitat and adult behavior. The Coleopterists Bulletin 62(1):37-41.

Typocerus deceptus in Missouri

July 17, 2009July 22, 2013 / Ted C. MacRae / 16 Comments

It has been fifteen years now since I published an annotated checklist of the longhorned beetles (families Cerambycidae and Disteniidae) of Missouri (MacRae 1994). That publication (and a similar one on Buprestidae) was the product of eight years of collecting – of specimens in the field and of data in any other public or private collection I could find that contained Missouri specimens – during my stint as a field entomologist with the Missouri Department of Agriculture. I collected during the week while on my rounds. I collected on weekends as well. I visited every college and university in the state that had an insect collection of any size, and a few in neighboring states as well. I made the acquaintance of private collectors with significant Missouri material – most notably Richard Heitzman, Marlin Rice, and the late Gayle Nelson. By the time I left Missouri for a new position in Sacramento, I had documented 219 species and subspecies of longhorned beetles from the state – 66 of which were new state records.

Typocerus deceptus on flower of Hydrangea arborescens

Despite my best efforts, however, I knew the list was not complete – they never are. In the years since returning to Missouri, I’ve documented an additional 10 species and subspecies in the state (MacRae and Rice 2007), and in a newly published paper (McDowell and MacRae 2009) the rare species, Typocerus deceptus, is documented from Missouri for the first time. I cannot take credit for this discovery – that honor goes to the paper’s lead author, Tom McDowell of Carbondale, Illinois. Tom first encountered this species in 2005 at Trail of Tears State Park in southeastern Missouri near Cape Girardeau while conducting routine insect surveys. After seeing additional individuals on a subsequent visit to the park the following year, Tom contacted me to tell me of his find and graciously invited me to join him on further studies of this rarely encountered species. I readily agreed, and in July of last year I met up with Tom at Trail of Tears to see the beetle for myself.

Typocerus deceptus on flower of Hydrangea arborescens

Typocerus deceptus has been recorded sporadically from across the eastern U.S. Nothing is known of its biology other than adult flower hosts and activity periods, and the larva and larval host(s) remain completely unknown. The species is aptly named, as its appearance is deceptively similar to the common and widespread species, T. velutinus. Both of these species belong to the so-called “flower longhorn” group (subfamily Lepturinae), characterized by adults that are largely diurnal (active during the day) and attracted to a great variety of flowers upon which they feed. Tom had found T. deceptus feeding on flowers of wild hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescens) in the company of several other flower longhorns, including T. velutinus. The similarity of T. deceptus to T. velutinus makes distinguishing individuals amongst the vastly more abundant T. velutinus quite difficult. However, Tom was able to recognize the species during his surveys as a result of prior experience with it in Illinois. As Tom and I searched the wild hydrangea plants growing along an intermittent drainage between the road and the park’s unique mesic forest, we succeeded in picking out a total of four individuals of this species amongst the dozens of T. velutinus and other lepturines also feeding on the flowers.

Typocerus velutinus on flower of Hydrangea arborescens

I gradually developed a sense of the subtle differences that distinguish this species from T. velutinus and that allow its recognition in the field. Typocerus deceptus is slightly more robust than T. velutinus, and whereas the transverse yellow elytral bands of the latter are distinct and well delimited, they are weaker and often interrupted at the middle in T. deceptus, giving the beetle a slightly darker brownish appearance. The lateral margins of the elytra are also more strongly emarginated near the apices, giving the beetle a more distinctly tapered appearance. Finally, while both species possess a distinct band of dense, yellow pubescence along the basal margin of the pronotum, this band is interrupted at the middle in T. deceptus. My ability to recognize this species in the field was confirmed a few weeks ago when I returned to Trail of Tears (with longtime field companion Rich Thoma) to attempt what seemed to be an impossible task – photograph these active and flighty insects in the field on their host plants. Conditions were brutally humid, and I only saw two individuals that day – the first I immediately captured and kept alive as a backup for studio photographs should I fail to achieve my goal in the field, but the second individual (not seen until almost two hours later!) posed just long enough for me to whip off a series of frames, two of which turned out well enough to share with you here. The first photo clearly shows the interrupted basal pubescent band, and both photos show the distinctly emarginate lateral elytral margins and weak transverse yellow bands (compare to the uninterrupted pronotal pubescent band and well developed transverse elytral bands of T. velutinus in the third photo).

Me with the discoverer of Typocerus deceptus in Missouri Trail of Tears State Park, July 2008

TCM with the discoverer of Typocerus deceptus in Missouri at Trail of Tears State Park, July 2008

It is possible that T. deceptus is not as rare as it appears and is simply overlooked due to its great resemblance to another much more abundant species. However, I believe this is unlikely given its rarity in collections of eastern U.S. Cerambycidae by casual and expert collectors alike. Moreover, T. deceptus is not the only “rare” longhorned beetle to have been documented at Trail of Tears State Park – a number of other species have also been found there but not or only rarely elsewhere in Missouri (e.g., Enaphalodes cortiphagus, Hesperandra polita, Metacmaeops vittata, and Trigonarthris minnesotana). This may be due to the unique, mesic forest found at Trail of Tears, being one of only a few sites in southeastern Missouri that support more typically eastern tree species such as American beech (Fagus grandifolia), tulip poplar (Liriodendron tulipifera), and cucumbertree (Magnolia acuminata). Whether one of these trees serves as a larval host for T. deceptus is unknown. Nevertheless, I will be returning to Trail of Tears in the future to see what other treasures remain hidden within its unique forests.

Photo details (insects): Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/18-20, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power through diffuser caps.

REFERENCES:

MacRae, T. C. 1994. Annotated checklist of the longhorned beetles (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae and Disteniidae) known to occur in Missouri. Insecta Mundi 7(4) (1993):223–252.

MacRae, T. C. and M. E. Rice. 2007. Distributional and biological observations on North American Cerambycidae (Coleoptera). The Coleopterists Bulletin 61(2):227–263.

McDowell, W. T. and T. C. MacRae. 2008. First record of Typocerus deceptus Knull, 1929 (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae) in Missouri, with notes on additional species from the state. The Pan-Pacific Entomologist 84(4):341-343 DOI: 10.3956/2008-23.1

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Beetles In The Bush

Experiences and reflections of a Missouri entomologist

Insecta

Ospriocerus abdominalis

Overlooked, needle-tailed, thick-headed fly

The last tiger beetle

North America’s smallest cicada

Salt Plains National Wildlife Refuge

Oklahoma is for lovers

Dromochorus pruinina in Oklahoma

Typocerus deceptus in Missouri

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