Dicerca pugionata – safe and sound!

Dicerca pugionata on Physocarpus opulifolius (ninebark) | Jefferson Co., Missouri

One of my favorite beetle species in Missouri is Dicerca pugionata—a strikingly beautiful jewel beetle (family Buprestidae) found sporadically across the eastern U.S. Unlike most species in the genus, which breed in dead wood of various species of trees, D. pugionata larvae mine living stems of certain woody shrubs—namely alder (Alnus spp.), witch-hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) and ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius) (Nelson 1975). When I first began studying Missouri Buprestidae (way back in 1982), the species had just been reported from the state based on a single specimen (Nelson et al. 1982). I happened to stumble upon these beetles at what became my favorite collecting spot during the 1980s—Victoria Glades Natural Area, just south of St. Louis in Jefferson Co. For several years while I was visiting Victoria Glades, I found these beetles regularly during spring and fall on stems and branches of living ninebark plants growing within the ravines and along the toeslopes at the lower edges of the glades.

After finding the beetles at Victoria Glades (and nearby Valley View Glades Natural Area), I made it a habit to examine ninebark wherever I found it growing in Missouri. Ninebark is actually rather common in the state along the rocky streams and rivers that dissect the Ozark Highlands. Interestingly, I almost never encountered this beetle on ninebark elsewhere in the state. I’m sure it occurs in other areas, but probably at too low a level to be easily detected. I surmised that the populations at Victoria and Valley View Glades were unusually high due to the non-optimal conditions for its host plant. The ravines and toeslopes where the plants grow are drier than typical for ninebark, and unlike the lush, robust plants found in moister streamside habitats, the plants at these glades are small, scraggly and often exhibit a certain amount of dieback. It seemed likely to me that the plants growing in the glades were less capable of fending off attacks by these insects, thus resulting in relatively higher numbers of beetles at these glades.

After the publication of my “Buprestidae of Missouri” (MacRae 1991), it would be many years before I actually returned to Victoria Glades. When I did return, I was pleased to see that management practices (e.g. prescribed burning, cedar removal, etc.) intended to halt the encroachment of woody vegetation and preserve the glade’s pre-settlement character had been implemented in the area. I was a little bothered, however, by the seeming paucity of insects compared to the years prior to management. I visited the glades again several times afterwards, and not only did insect populations in general seem to be depressed, but I never succeeded in finding D. pugionata adults on the ninebark plants. I began to worry that the prescribed burns, while clearly beneficial to the glade flora, might have had a negative impact on the glade’s insect populations.

I’m happy to report that, at last, I have found the beetles again. I returned to the glades in early May this year and, for the first time since 1987 I found the adults of this species—five in all (a typical number for the many dozens of plants checked) and right in the same areas where I had so consistently found them 25–30 years earlier. This does much to allay my concerns about the ability of these beetles to persist in the face of prescribed burning (though I remain convinced that this management technique should be used more judiciously in our state’s natural areas than it has in recent years), and I’m happy to have these new photographs of the species, which are a decided improvement over the old scanned slides taken nearly 30 years ago!

REFERENCES:

MacRae, T. C. 1991. The Buprestidae (Coleoptera) of Missouri. Insecta Mundi 5(2):101–126.

Nelson, G. H. 1975. A revision of the genus Dicerca in North America (Coleoptera: Buprestidae). Entomologische Arbeiten aus dem Museum G. Frey 26:87–180.

Nelson, G. H., D. S. Verity & R. L. Westcott. 1982. Additional notes on the biology and distribution of Buprestidae (Coleoptera) of North America. The Coleopterists Bulletin 35(2) [1981]:129–151.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Cosmetid harvestman with parasitic/phoretic mites in Argentina

Metalibitia sp. poss. paraguayensis | Corrientes Province, Argentina

While searching logpiles last month in a relatively intact tract “Selva Paranaense” near Paso de la Patria (Corrientes Prov., Argentina), the most interesting find for me was , a bizarre longhorned beetle that is either amazingly cryptic or a curious mimic (I couldn’t decide). There wasn’t much else to be seen in the logpiles—it had been a very dry summer in northern Argentina, but I did find this interesting species of harvestman (class Arachnida, order Opiliones) huddled together in one of the punkier piles of wood.

Knowing little about harvestman taxonomy (but knowing of several specialists who do), I sent the photos around for expert opinion. Everyone responded with the same opinion—family Cosmetidae, apparently distinguished by its spoon-shaped pedipalps. Marshal Hedin compared them to this similar-looking species photographed in Bolivia, Christopher Taylor (Catalogue of Organisms) thought they might be a species of Metalibitia and Ricardo Pinto-da-Rocha suggested M. paraguayensis as having been recorded from the province of Corrientes (although a specimen would need to be examined to confirm the identification). My thanks to each of these gentlemen for weighing in on a possible ID.

Argentina represents the southernmost extent of this strictly New World family of harvestmen, while to the north the family extends up to the southern U.S. (genus Vonones). In between, the family is diverse and comprises up to one-third to one-half of the harvestman fauna (Kury & Pinto-da-Rocha 2007). Many species in the family are ornately marked, giving rise to the family name which is derived from the Greek kosmetós (= ornate)—check out this gallery of photos at Flickr to see some truly spectacular examples.

While I was photographing these individuals, and even when I first began processing the photos, I thought that they were quite dirty and debated whether to clean them in PhotoShop. Then I realized that the numerous white spots were not debris, but mites! Whether these represent a parasitic or phoretic relationship is not clear to me, however, and none of the gentlemen I sent the photos to offered any comment about them. Erythraeid and thrombidiid mites are well documented as harvestman ectoparasites during their larval stage, with recorded hosts including Neotropical species of Cosmetidae (Townsend et al. 2008). The tiny, white mites on these individuals, however, do not resemble the large, red erythraeid mites (probably genus Leptus) that I have seen parasitizing our North American harvestman species, and their numbers on multiple individuals is, to me, more indicative of a phoretic relationship. If you want to become thoroughly confused by the tremendous diversity of mites the parasitize harvestmen, see the comprehensive review by Cokendolpher (1993).

REFERENCES:

Cokendolpher, J. C. 1993. Pathogens and parasites of Opiliones (Arthropoda: Arachnida). The Journal of Arachnology 21:120–146.

Townsend, V. R., D. N. Proud, M. K. Moore, J. A. Tibbetts, J. A. Burns, R. K. Hunter, S. R Lazarowitz & B. E. Felgenhauer. 2008. Parasitic and phoretic mites associated with Neotropical harvestmen from Trinidad, West Indies. Annals of the Entomological Society of America 101(6):1026–1032.

Kury, A. B. & R. Pinto-da-Rocha. 2007. Cosmetidae Koch, 1839. Pp 182–185. In: R. Pinto-da-Rocha, G. Machado & G. Giribet (Eds.). Harvestmen: The Biology of the Opiliones. Harvard University Press, Cambridge and London, x + 597 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Holy conglobulation, Batman!

It’s a pill bug… no, it’s a roach. It’s a pill roach!

Earlier this month I made a quick trip out to California to see my good friend Chuck Bellamy receive his Honorary Membership in The Coleopterist Society. While I was there, I got a chance to spend some time with Chuck’s labmate Martin Hauser. Although Martin is a specialist of flies, he shares my fascination with unusual arthropods of all types and made available for me to photograph this adult female Perisphaerus sp. (order Blattodea, family Blaberidae), or “pill roach”. Seventeen species from southeast Asia and Australia have been described in this genus (Beccaloni 2007), but which (if any) this individual represents remains unknown.

In contrast to ”normal”-looking males, adult females exhibit a ”wingless, half-ellipsoid” morphology.

The most obvious characteristic of species in this genus is the ability of females to roll up into a ball; i.e., conglobulate.¹ Clearly this is a defensive morphotype, but curiously only females possess this ability—males are winged and exhibit the more flattened morphology typical of many cockroaches. Martin and I were unable to get this particular individual to completely enroll (we must not have been scary enough), but when it does the posterior abdomen fits tightly against the pronotal margin, covering all sensory organs and leaving no soft tissues exposed, gaps to enter or external projections to grab (Bell et al. 2007).

¹ I must thank Brady Richards, who, in his answer to ID Challenge #18, used this word to coin the phrase that would eventually become the title of this post.

Adult females apparently exhibit not only maternal protection but also nutrition.

But why should only females and not males exhibit this defensive morphotype? One would think that both males and females are equally threatened by predators. Apparently this is related to their unusual form of uniparental (maternal) care (Choe & Crespi 1997).  Early-instar nymphs in this genus remain closely associated with their mother and cling to her underside until they reach the third instar. These early-instar nymphs are not only blind, but they also exhibit a narrowed head with specially modified mouthparts that fit precisely into two pairs of orifices located on the female underside between the middle and hind pairs of legs. Whether the nymphs are feeding on glandular secretions or female hemolymph remains unknown, but regardless only a limited number of nymphs can be handled by a female at one time. This represents an unusual level of energetic investment in offspring among insects—especially among cockroaches, and thus the female has an interest in protecting that investment. Sealing them up inside an impenetrable ball is certainly one way to protect the nymphs.

Despite first impressions, six legs and a very ”cockroach-ish” head belie its true identity.

Conglobulation has actually arisen several times amongst arthropods. Obviously pill bugs (a.k.a. roly-poly bugs) are the first group that comes to mind in this regard, but Eisner & Eisner (2002) illustrate nearly identical morphology in two oniscomorph millipedes as well as isopods and Perispharus and also describe strikingly similar behavior by the larva of Leucochrysa pavida  (family Chrysopidae).

Many thanks to those of you who participated in ID Challenge #18. As of now, the comments for that challenge are closed, and I will reveal the comments and award points shortly. My sincere thanks again to Martin Hauser for allowing me to photograph this most interesting insect!

Edit 5/28/12, 12:55 a.m.: For the first time ever, we have a 3-way tie for a BitB Challenge win—Sam Heads, Brady Richards, and Mr. Phidippus all earned 12 points to share the top spot in this challenge. Since these three gentlemen were already the three leaders in BitB Challenge Session #6, there is no change to the leaderboard in the overall standings (44, 42 and 37 points, respectively). However, Dennis Haines (34 points) is hanging close, and Tim Eisele (25 points) still has a shot at the podium. Any number of others following closely behind could also find themselves on the podium if any of the three leaders should falter down the stretch.

REFERENCES:

 Beccaloni, G. W. 2007. Blattodea Species File Online. Version 1.0/4.1. World Wide Web electronic publication. <http://Blattodea.SpeciesFile.org&gt; [accessed 27 May 2012].

Bell, W. J., L. M. Roth & C. A. Nalepa. 2007. Cockroaches: Ecology, Behavior, and Natural History. The Johns Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, Maryland, 230 pp.

Choe, J. C. & B. J. Crespi. 1997. The Evolution of Social Behavior in Insects and Arachnids. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, U.K., 541 pp.

Eisner, T. & M. Eisner. 2002. Coiling into a sphere: defensive behavior of a trash-carrying chrysopid larva Leucochrysa (Nodita) pavida (Neuroptera: Chrysopidae). Entomological News 113:6–10.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Maddening mutillid

Traumatomutilla graphica (Gerstaecker, 1874) | Parque Nacional Chaco, Argentina

During my stay in Corrientes, Argentina, I had two distinct biomes to explore—the relatively moist “Selva Paraguayense” to the east in Corrientes Province (a southern adjunct to the Atlantic Forest of southeastern Brazil, and home to the cryptic longhorned beetle that I featured in Desmiphora hirticollis: Crypsis or Mimicry?), and the drier “Gran Chaco” to the west, home of the insect featured in today’s post. Precious few remnants remain of the original Gran Chaco, which once covered nearly 1 million square kilometers in northern Argentina, Paraguay and Bolivia and the best example of which can be found at Parque Nacional Chaco in north-central Argentina. I’ve already mentioned that conditions are typically quite dry by early April in northern Argentina, and this is especially true of Chaco Province, where droughts during the months of January through March are common. As a result, I didn’t expect to see much insect activity during my visit last month. For the most part this was true, but one insect I did see at several points along the trails through the park was this rather large velvet ant (order Hymenoptera, family Mutillidae). Not an ant, of course, but a true wasp, these insects must be treated with respect as they are capable of delivering a painful sting. This, combined with their ceaseless, erratic wanderings makes them incredibly difficult to photograph. However, with few other insects to see, I thought I would spend the time and effort to see if I could get some good field photographs of this very attractive species. I spent about half an hour attempting to photograph it by panning through the viewfinder while getting closer and adjusting the focus on the move, and then firing shots when I thought I might be close enough and had the individual more-or-less within the frame. This was wildly unsuccessful, as I had only a 3-ft wide path within which to work and had to constantly get up to block its escape into the adjacent vegetation. Moreover, it was exhausting! The constant moving and body contortions while in crouched or kneeling positions used muscles I didn’t even know I had (but was well aware of the following day by their soreness!). Out of the countless shots that I fired, these two photographs are the only ones that I consider worthy of posting—pretty good, but not great.

The distinctive color pattern is diagnostic for the species.

According to Kevin Williams (many thanks!), the distinctive color pattern readily identifies this individual as Traumatomutilla graphica (Gerstaecker, 1874). Nearly the size of our common eastern North American Dasymutilla occidentalis (a.k.a., cow killer), the bold, conspicuous patterning surely must serve as advertisement of its powerful defensive capabilities—I know I was deterred from trying to handle it. Kevin mentions it as a “great find!” and that the male of the species is still unknown, and I could find nothing about the biology of this species. However, mutillids in general are known to develop as external parasitoids of various wasps, bees, beetles and flies, the excessively long female ovipositor enabling piercing of host nest cells before injecting their powerful venom and placing the eggs (Hogue 1993).

REFERENCE:

Hogue, C. L. 1993. Latin American Insects and Entomology. University of California Press, Berkeley and Los Angeles, 536 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

One-Shot Wednesday: Upside down bee fly

Bombylius sp. cf. mexicanus | Scott Co., Missouri

This has got to be one of the strangest photos I’ve ever taken. Three weeks ago after visiting Sam A. Baker State Park (and photographing the scorpionfly featured in last week’s One-Shot Wednesday post), my dad and I visited a couple of sand prairie remnants in the Mississippi lowlands of extreme southeastern Missouri. I was hoping to see (and photograph) some individuals of the unique population of Cicindela scutellaris that occurs in that part of the state—apparently disjunct, this populations shows an intergrade of characters typical of subspecies C. s. lecontei to the north and C. s. unicolor to the south. I’ve photographed this population before, but those photographs were taken with a small (though quite good) point-and-shoot camera before I acquired my current dSLR camera setup.

Unfortunately, temperatures were quite cool that day, and no beetles were seen at either of the two locations we visited where I’ve seen good populations in past years. When I don’t find what I’m looking for, I start noticing other things, one of which was this very fresh-looking bee fly (order Diptera, family Bombyliidae) resting on the sandy ground. I’ve not really attempted to photograph many bee flies—they are as skittish and difficult to approach as the tiger beetles I adore but, unlike the latter, not a subject of my research and, thus, harder to justify spending inordinate amounts of time attempting photographs. This one, however, was sitting so nicely on the ground, and with no tiger beetles around to demand my attention I thought I would give it a shot (pun intended!). I carefully assembled my rig and slowly crouched down to attempt a photograph, but before I could get in position the fly spooked and tried to fly away. As it took off, however, it hit a plant and fell to the ground on it’s back. As it laid there,seemingly stunned, I got myself into position and took a quick shot to make sure I had the settings and exposure that I wanted. In that regard, I couldn’t ask for better, but of course what I really wanted was a photograph of the fly right-side up, resting on its feet rather than its back. Just as I was considering what to do next, the fly abruptly righted itself and flew away, leaving me with this single, rather unconventional photograph.

After perusing the bee fly pages at BugGuide, I was fairly certain this was something in the tribe Bombyliini, with the genera Bombylius and Systoechus being the likeliest candidates. Apparently the location of the r-m vein on the wing is an important distinguishing character between these genera, but I wasn’t quite sure about its location on the wing in this photograph. Nevertheless, some of the comments under the different species in these two genera suggested that members of Bombylius tend to be active as adults in the spring, while those of Systoechus tend more towards fall. I sent the photo to dipterist Joel Kitts at University of Guelph for his opinion—he confirmed that it belonged to the genus Bombylius and suggested its appearance was consistent with that of B. mexicanus—many thanks Joel!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Aglaoschema rufiventre in Chaco, Argentina

Aglaoschema rufiventre | Chaco Province, Argentina

I’ve mentioned a few times that April is not a very good time to look for beetles in northern Argentina, as the months preceding April are typically hot and dry. September through January would be a much better time, especially to look for the wood boring beetles (families Buprestidae and Cerambycidae) that I am so fond of. Still, if I am in Argentina in April then I must look for beetles in April, and while I didn’t see a single buprestid during my week in Corrientes and Chaco Provinces last month I did a fair number of cerambycid beetles on stands of goldenrod (Solidago chilensis) at a few localities in Chaco Province. One particularly common species was Aglaoschema rufiventre, a beautiful metallic green species with, you guessed it, a red abdomen. Aglaoschema is a rather large (27 species), exclusively Neotropical genus whose members superficially resemble the diurnal, brightly colored species of the tribe Trachyderini but actually belong to the tribe Compsocerini. Most of the species occur in Brazil, but six extend further south into Argentina. Of these, A. rufiventre most resembles A. haemorrhoidale and A. ventrale but is distinguished by its subcylindrical antennal scape—or first segment (clavate in A. ventrale) and non-roughened elytra (roughened—or “asperate”—in A. hemorrhoidale) (Napp 2007). No hosts have been reported for A. rufiventre (Monné 2001), so my finding of adults on flowers of S. chilensis seems to be the first reported host association for the species.

The species name refers to its “red belly”

I photographed several of these beetles on S. chilensis flowers at two locations in Chaco Province along Ruta 16 west of Resistencia, but I was generally unsatisfied with how the photos turned out. The combination of the beetles’ metallic sheen and the bright yellow color of the flowers made getting the right exposure and lighting difficult—I either blew out the yellow on the flowers or ended up with deep shadows on the beetles. One morning I encountered this female sitting on the seed head of an grass unidentified grass. Torpid from the cool temperatures and covered in morning dew, she was a most cooperative subject, and the colors of the seed head turned out to be much more complimentary for photographing the beetle that the bright yellow goldenrod flowers.

REFERENCES:

Monné, M. A. 2001. Catalogue of the Neotropical Cerambycidae (Coleoptera) with known host plant—Part I: Subfamily Cerambycinae, tribes Achrysonini to Elaphidiini. Publicações Avulsas do Museu Nacional 88:1–108.

Napp, D. S. 2007. Revisão do gênero Aglaoschema Napp (Coleoptera, Cerambycidae). Revista Brasileira de Zoologia 24(3):793–816.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

One-Shot Wednesday: Panorpa helena scorpionfly

Panorpa helena, male | Wayne Co., Missouri

Last month I introduced a new meme called One-Shot Wednesday as a fun outlet for those occasional instances where I was able to fire off just one shot of an insect before it took off. At the time I guess I was hoping it was a meme that I wouldn’t need to use frequently, as I really do like to get more than just one shot of the insects that I photograph. Eventually, however, I decided it might actually encourage me to attempt photographs of insects that I wouldn’t normally try to photograph—not because I don’t find them attractive or interesting, but rather the fear of becoming too distracted and missing opportunities for the types of insects that I prefer to photograph. Freeing myself from the “need” to spend inordinate amounts of time with every subject I try to photograph might actually make me more willing to fire off more shots willy-nilly. Most of these shots probably won’t be anything special, but a few should turn out pretty good—and what better way to get more practice and experience?

Today’s feature is my first attempt at something in the order Mecoptera. I am admittedly a novice when it comes to scorpionfly taxonomy, but after perusing The Mecoptera of North America, an excellent website by Norm Penny (Collections Manager at the California Academy of Sciences and specialist in the taxonomy, biology, and biogeography of the Mecoptera and Neuropterida), I’m fairly confident that this male represents the common and widespread species Panorpa helena Byers, 1962. Penny includes Missouri in the distribution of six species of this monogeneric family, but the three complete bands across yellow wings and presence of an anal horn on the sixth abdominal tergum seem to support my identification (although I suppose examination of the male genitalia would be required for conclusive identification).

Frankly I was surprised I even got this shot. I see scorpionflies commonly in dense, moist woods throughout Missouri—this one was seen in wet bottomland forest along Big Creek in Sam A. Baker State Park in the southeastern Ozark Highlands—and have noted their tendency to flit nervously through dense foliage when approached. I already had the camera out and with the proper lens attached, so I thought I’d take a shot—I got this one reasonably well-composed, focused, and exposed shot before it flew deeper into the foliage. That was good enough for me (I had other quarry on my mind…), so I didn’t bother to try to track it. That was on April 23 (my first official day as a ‘senior citizen’—harrumph!), and it’s interesting to note that this is nearly two weeks earlier than the first date of occurrence (May 4) recorded for the species at Penny’s website.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Desmiphora hirticollis: Crypsis or Mimicry?

During my stay in Corrientes, Argentina last month, I was invited to spend the day with a colleague at his “camp” in Paso de la Patria. Located on the banks of the massive Rio Paraná at its junction with the Rio Paraguay, this small resort community boasts large tracts of relatively intact “Selva Paranaense,” which together with the Atlantic Forest in southeastern Brazil forms the second largest forest ecozone in South America outside of the Amazon. As my colleague skillfully prepared matambre, chorizo, and vacío (typical cuts of meat in Argentina) on the parilla (wood grill) at his camp, I explored the surrounding forest for insects. Early April is late in the season, and with generally droughty conditions in the area for the past several months there were few insects to be found. My luck improved, however, when I came upon a small area with stacks of fresh cut logs from recent wood cutting operations scattered through the area. Wood boring beetles (families Buprestidae and Cerambycidae) are often attracted to such wood piles, so approached each one slowly to look for day-active species of these beetles. After inspecting several piles without seeing anything on them, I began carefully turning over the logs to look for nocturnal species that tend to hide on the undersides during the day. Shortly I came across this highly cryptic species of cerambycid, and further searching revealed a fair number of these beetles hiding within the dozen or so log piles that I examined.

Desmiphora hirticollis on freshly cut guayabi (Patagonia americana) | Corrientes Prov., Argentina

I instantly recognized the genus as Desmiphora, an exclusively New World genus characterized by the presence of fasciculate tufts (or “pencils”) of erect or suberect hairs. Most of its nearly 50 species occur in Brazil, but two species extend as far north as southern Texas (Giesbert 1998). One of these is Desmiphora hirticollis, a widespread species found as far north as Corpus Christi, Texas and as far south as Bolivia and Argentina. I thought these beetles looked an awful lot like that species, and I later confirmed its identity as such due to its piceous (glossy brownish black) integument and the presence of small black pencils just before the elytral apices.

Adults are nearly impossible to see from overhead due to cryptic coloration…

The wood piles contained logs from several tree species, but all of the beetles that I encountered were on logs of guayaibi (Patagonula americana), a member of the family Boraginaceae and a characteristic component of Selva Paranaense (also an important timber species in Argentina). The number of individuals that I found and their occurrence only on guayaibi suggests it serves as a larval host for the beetle. Duffy (1960) described the larva from specimens collected out of Sapium sp. (family Euphorbiaceae), but in Texas this species is collected most often on Cordia spp. and Ehretia anacua (Rice et al. 1985)—both in the family Boraginaceae—with adults having been reared from Cordia eleagnoides (Chemsak & Noguera 1993).

…while the hair tufts may function in obscuring the body outline…

It seems obvious that coloration of the beetle and its pencils of hair function in crypsis. From overhead the beetles are almost impossible to discern as they sit motionless on the similarly colored bark of their host trees. Even in profile or oblique views where the body becomes somewhat more visible, the pencils seem to break up and obscure the outline of the body. I wonder, however, if crypsis is the only function of the pencils—Belt (2004) described the strong resemblance of another species in the genus, D. fasciculata—a similarly penicillate species, to short, thick, hairy caterpillars (insectivorous birds often refuse to prey upon hairy species of caterpillars). That species can be seen sitting openly on foliage during the day, while D. hirticollis seems to be strictly nocturnal; however, cryptic and mimetic functions need not be mutually exclusive, so perhaps for this species the pencils function a little for both.

…or perhaps even mimicking ”hairy” caterpillars.

REFERENCES:

Belt, T. 2004. The Naturalist in Nicaragua. Project Guttenberg eBook.

Chemsak, J. A. & F. A. Noguera.  1993.  Annotated checklist of the Cerambycidae of the Estacion de Biologia Chamela, Jalisco, Mexico (Coleoptera), with descriptions of new genera and species.  Folia Entomológica Mexicana 89:55–102.

Duffy, E. A. J. 1960. A Monograph of the Immature Stages of Neotropical Timber Beetles (Cerambycidae). British Museum of Natural History, London. 327 p.

Giesbert, E. F. 1998. A review of the genus Desmiphora Audinet-Serville (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae: Lamiinae: Desmiphorini) in North America, Mexico and Central America. Occasional Papers of the Consortium Coleopterorum 2(1): 27–43.

Rice, M. E., R. H. Turnbow, Jr. & F. T. Hovore. 1985. Biological and distributional observations on Cerambycidae from the southwestern United States (Coleoptera). The Coleopterists Bulletin 39(1):18–24.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012