Waiter, there’s a fly on my fungus…

May 14, 2010October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 9 Comments

On my recent season-opening-birthday-bug-collecting-trip in Sam A. Baker State Park, Rich and I happened upon a large grape (Vitis sp.) vine hanging from a tree in the bottomland forests along Big Creek. Draped over a foot-long section of the lower vine was a weep area covered with a thick fungal growth, softly colored in pink and white and on which a large number of “fruit flies” had congregated. Their small size provided a good opportunity to get some more field practice with my MP-E 65mm macro lens, an opportunity made all the more challenging by the angle of the vine and its closeness to the tree upon which it was climbing. There were quite a number of the flies feeding and mating, but they were quite difficult to approach and photograph – annoyingly taking flight or moving to the other side of the vine no matter how deliberate my movements. Every now and then I found a relatively more cooperative subject and was able to get in a shot or two before it, too, moved nervously to the other side. I probably also missed a few good shots when I got distracted watching their feeding behavior through the lens at higher magnifications (2-3X). It was fascinating watching as they scraped their labellum on the surface of the fungus – I’d never seen this behavior up so close and personal before.

Keith Bayless kindly identified these as belonging to the family Drosophilidae, possibly in one of the smaller genera of Drosophila sensu lato. I suppose a more specific ID would require a good view of its chaeotaxy (the arrangement of the bristles). Now… I’m about as pedantic as they come, but I must admit to difficulty in calling these by their more proper common names of pomace, vinegar, or wine flies rather than the more widely used but technically incorrect “fruit flies” (the latter term referring to species in the family Tephritidae and including such important agricultural pests as the Mediterranean fruit fly and olive fruit fly). When I was a kid and we saw swarms of these things rising up from overripe bananas, they were fruit flies. When I got older and reared Drosophila in high school biology, they were fruit flies. Not until I took Systematic Entomology as a college junior did I learn that fruit flies are something else and these are actually pomace flies, but by then it was too late. These are fruit flies! (And later in the day we found some “big black ants“!)

Photo Details: Canon 50D (ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14), Canon MP-E 65mm macro lens (2-3x range), Canon MT-24EX flash (1/8 ratio) w/ Sto-Fen diffusers. Typical post-processing (levels and unsharp mask). Photo 1 slightly cropped.

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A Horridus Birthday

May 12, 2010October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 36 Comments

For many years now, I’ve celebrated my birthday each year with the “season-opener-birthday-bug-collecting-trip.” This happens regardless of what day of the week it falls (although two years ago I did get roped into a business trip – I made up for it by stumbling into a quick but thoroughly enjoyable tour of Pipestone National Monument before my flight back home). Last year I made sure I got the day off and had a nice, festive (tiger beetle) birthday. For this past April 23rd, a Friday, I celebrated my 29th birthday (for the 2-dozenth time!) by grabbing long-time field companion Rich and shooting down to Sam A. Baker State Park in the Ozark Highlands of southeastern Missouri. My goal for the trip was to find the very uncommon Cladrastis kentukea (American yellowwood), a small tree that is known to occur in Missouri only in the White River Hills of the extreme southwest and in a few localities in and near Sam Baker State Park. Actually, it wasn’t the tree so much that I was after, but a small jewel beetle – Agrilus cladrastis – that utilizes this plant exclusively for its larval host. To date, the only Missouri specimens of this species have been collected by the late, great Gayle Nelson on yellowwood in the White River Hills, and I wanted to see if I might be able to find it in southeastern Missouri as well. April is still too early to encounter active adults, but my plan was to: 1) find examples of the tree, 2) collect dead wood from them, and 3) cut living branches to leave in situ for infestation this season and retrieval the next. Long story short, I succeeded on all three counts (though I won’t know for a few weeks whether the wood I brought back actually harbors any as yet unemerged adults – finger crossed!).

The area where we expected to find the tree was steep, rocky slopes overlooking Big Creek on the north side of the park. Rich and I were hiking a trail below the slopes, and I had gotten a little bit ahead of him when I saw a 30″ long snake stretched straight out across the trail. Recognizing it immediately as one of our venomous species, but not quite sure which one, I blurted out, “Wow, what a gorgeous snake!” Rich, a better herpetologist than I, shouted from a distance back, “What kind?” In the few seconds during which this exchange was taking place, it all registered – the dark stripe behind the eye, the bold markings (too dark for a copperhead, too big for a western pygmy rattlesnake, too widely spaced for a massasauga), the black tail (not yellow-green like a juvenile copperhead), and a tiny little one-chambered rattle! I yelled back, “A young timber rattler!” Rich got there promptly, and we decided that it must be a yearling based on the time of year, its length, and the size of the rattle.

I have seen a few timber rattlesnakes (Crotalus horridus) in Missouri over the years, but never like this. My previous sightings have all been fleeting glimpses after hearing them shooting into the underbrush to escape my close approach – me oblivious to their presence until it was too late. This young snake, by contrast, didn’t flinch as I approached (carefully), set down the backpack, and assembled the camera to begin taking photographs. As I began taking a few photos of the head area (from a respectful distance – the vision of that terrifyingly aggressive prairie rattlesnake from two years ago still lingers), it became agitated and started moving for cover. Rich wasn’t too anxious to head it off at the pass, but I wasn’t satisfied with the shots that I’d gotten so far, so I grabbed my net to block it from disappearing into the litter. That caused it to pause just long enough for me to get back into position and frame a shot… that I couldn’t get off before it started moving again! We did this a few times until it finally just crawled right into the net – now what?! I carried the net over to some large rocks on the side of the trail and used them to flip the net and dump out the snake, which immediately headed for cover underneath the rocks. I figured the photo shoot was over then, but the space under the rocks was not deep, and after a bit of probing for escape routes the snake eventually settled into a money pose and I was able to snap away with glee – what do you think?

Missouri has five venomous snake species, all of which are pit vipers with three being rattlesnakes. I’ve featured two of these in previous posts – the Osage copperhead and the western pygmy rattlesnake. Both of these species occur throughout the Ozark Highlands, although the latter is more common in the southwestern part of the state. The third rattlesnake species in Missouri, eastern massasauga, is rare in wet habitats scattered across northern Missouri, while the cottonmouth (or water moccasin) is limited to stream, river, and swamp habitats in the southern Ozarks and southeastern lowlands. Many internet references list the western massasauga also as occurring in Missouri, but this subspecies is not included in the most recent Snakes of Missouri (Biggler and Johnson 2004). Within Missouri, timber rattlesnakes have a statewide distribution, but they have been extirpated by humans from many areas and now occur as small populations in scattered locations across the state. The same is true in other parts of their range as well, particularly along the western and northern limits. It is thus a rare and exciting treat to see one of these magnificent animals, although the reasons for its rarity are both sobering and maddening.

REFERENCE:

Briggler, J. and T. R. Johnson. 2004. Snakes of Missouri. Missouri Department of Conservation, Jefferson City, 16 pp.

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Hitchin’ A Ride

May 10, 2010October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 17 Comments

One of the more common species of longhorned beetles (family Cerambycidae) in Missouri, and throughout the eastern U.S., is Stenosphenus notatus. Despite its commonness, however, it is a species that is easily overlooked because of its very early seasonality, emerging during the first warm days of spring (late March here in Missouri) and disappearing by the time the bulk of longhorned beetle species become active during late spring and early summer. I found this individual on a recently fallen mockernut hickory (Carya alba) during the 2nd week of April, as Rich and I hiked the lower portion of the Wappapello Section of the Ozark Trail in southern Missouri (along with several other wood boring beetles species such as Dicerca lurida, Megacyllene caryae, and the woodboring beetle predator Enoclerus ichneumoneus). Longhorned beetles display a variety of host fidelities, ranging from highly polyphagous to strictly monophagous – this species falls near though not quite at the latter end of the spectrum, being associated almost exclusively with the genus Carya (hickories and pecan). I have reared adults from dead branches and trunk sections of not only C. alba, but also C. aquatica (water hickory), C. laciniosa (shellbark hickory), and C. ovata (shagbark hickory) (MacRae 1994, MacRae and Rice 2007). Linsley (1963) also records Celtis (hackberry) as a host, but I have not seen the species myself in association with plants of that genus, nor have I seen other literature references to such – I suspect this may, in fact, be an incidental adult association rather than indicative of a true larval host (an all too common problem in interpreting literature on woodboring beetle host plants).

The very early spring occurrence of this insect can be traced to a peculiarity of its life cycle shared by few other cerambycid species in the eastern U.S. – overwintering in the adult stage. Most eastern U.S. longhorned beetles overwinter within the host wood as either partially or completely grown larvae. Warming temperatures in the spring trigger resumption of growth in the former and a transformation to the pupal stage in the latter, which emerge as adults a few weeks later during mid-late spring. In contrast, S. notatus – which requires two seasons to complete its development – pupates in the latter part of the second season and transforms into the adult before the onset of winter. When warm temperatures return in spring, the adults are ready to emerge and search out fresh hickory wood that has died within the past few months on which to lay their eggs and begin the cycle anew.

As I photographed this individual, I noticed an object attached to its left mesothoracic (middle) leg. Zooming in on the object showed it to be a pseudoscorpion – a type of arachnid (relative of spiders, mites, and true scorpions) in the order Pseudoscorpiones. I have not the resources nor the expertise to attempt a more specific ID, but its attachment to the beetle almost surely represents an example of phoresy – defined as a phenomenon in which “one animal seeks out and attaches to the outer surface of another animal for a limited time during which the attached animal (termed the phoretic) ceases feeding and ontogenesis, such attachment presumably resulting in dispersal from areas unsuitable for further development, either of the individual or its progeny” (Farish and Axtell 1971). Pseudoscorpions have been reported attached to insects from several orders, primarily Diptera but also beetles and including longhorned beetles (Perry et al. 1974, Haack and Wilkinson 1987). Many species of pseudoscorpions develop beneath the bark of dead trees and prey upon the many other small insects and mites found there, and it would be reasonable to presume that their most effective means of dispersal to new habitats (i.e., dead trees) would be by “hitching a ride” with adult woodboring beetles as they emerge and fly to these new sites. As obvious as this explanation might seem, few data have actually been generated to demonstrate it is actually the case, and several competing hypotheses such as accidental boarding (hitching a ride by accident), obligate symbiosis (the pseudoscorpions live exclusively on the beetles), and phagophily (preying upon other beetle associates such as mites) have been offered as alternative explanations. However, at least one fairly recent investigation on the pseudoscorpion, Cordylochernes scorpioides, a frequent inhabitant under the elytra of the giant harlequin beetle, Acrocinus longimanus (family Cerambycidae), does seem to not only support the dispersal hypothesis, but also suggests that large male C. scorpioides even defend a beetle’s abdomen as a strategic site for intercepting and inseminating dispersing females (Zeh and Zeh 1992).

REFERENCES:

Farish, D. J. and R. C. Axtell. 1971. Phoresy redefined and examined in Macrocheles muscaedomesticae (Acarina: Macrochelidae). Acarologia 13:1629.

Haack, R. A. and R. C. Wilkinson. 1987. Phoresy by Dendrochernes Pseudoscorpions on Cerambycidae (Coleoptera) and Aulacidae (Hymenoptera) in Florida. American Midland Naturalist 117(2):369–373.

Linsley, E. G. 1963. The Cerambycidae of North America. Part IV. Taxonomy and classification of the subfamily Cerambycinae, tribes Elaphidionini through Rhinotragini. University of California Publicatons in Entomology 21:1–165, 52 figs.

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.

Perry, R. H., R. W. Surdick and D. M. Anderson. 1974. Observations on the biology, ecology, behavior, and larvae of Dryobius sexnotatus Linsley (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae). The Coleopterists Bulletin 28(4):169–176.

Zeh, D. W. and J. A. Zeh. 1992. On the function of harlequin beetle-riding in the pseudoscorpion, Cordylochernes scorpiones (Pseudoscorpionida: Chernetidae). Journal of Arachnology 20: 47–51.

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Friday Flower – Pawpaw

May 7, 2010October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 28 Comments

As my friend Rich and I stood in the verdent understory admiring the spectacular panicles of red buckeye punctuating the green lushness, a small brown flower on a leafless branch above me caught my eye. “Pawpaw!” I exclaimed, perhaps partly in amazement that it took us awhile to notice the trees that were, in fact, all around us. Pawpaw (Asimina triloba) is a member of the only temperate genus in the otherwise exclusively tropical and subtropical family Annonaceae (Custard Apple Family). Although not nearly as restricted in occurrence in Missouri as the red buckeyes with which they were growing, they are nevertheless always a treat to see. Scattered throughout the state, they can be found growing in bottomland forests, ravines in mesic upland forests, along woodland streams, and at bases of bluffs (Yatskievych 2006).

Pawpaws are, of course, famous for their large edible fruits, sometimes called Indian bananas, Missouri bananas, Michigan bananas, [insert eastern state here] bananas, etc. Technically, however, the pawpaw fruit is a berry, since it is derived from a single pistil and has multiple seeds embedded within the pulpy matrix. I’ve not tried the fruit myself, not for lack of desire but rather an inability to find them when they ripen in fall before the birds and mammals get to them. Some effort has been made to cultivate the plant for fruit production, but low fruit set seems to be a persistent problem due to reproductive self-incompatibility.

Pawpaw also famously serves as the larval food plant for the zebra swallowtail butterfly, Eurytides marcellus (family Papilionidae). Beyond this, however, there seem to be not many insects associated with the plant. I have collected dead wood of pawpaw in an effort to determine the species of wood-boring beetle species that are associated with it. The only species I’ve reared is the longhorned beetle, Elaphidion mucronatum (whose common name “spined oak borer” belies the fact that it is one of the most polyphagous of all North American species), and two other longhorned beetles, Eupogonius pauper and Urgleptes querci (also highly polyphagous), have also been reported being reared from dead wood of this plant. I have not associated any jewel beetles with pawpaw, nor have any such associations been reported in the literature. It would appear that woodboring beetles are not fond of the soft, weak wood of pawpaw, perhaps due to the plant’s annonaceous acetogenins with known pesticidal qualities (Ratnayake et al. 1993) (acetogenins are also under investigation as anti-cancer drugs). Other poisonous compounds, chiefly alkaloids, are found in various parts of the plant, especially the seeds and bark, and likely play a role in herbivore defense. Insect pollinators also seem to be infrequent, as I have not noted any insects on its flowers. Most members of the family are pollinated by beetles (Yatskievych 2006), but the meat-colored, downward-facing, not-so-sweet-smelling flowers of pawpaw suggest pollination by flies, perhaps those attracted to carrion.

REFERENCE:

Ratnayake, S., J.K. Rupprecht, W.M. Potter, and J.L. McLaughlin. 1993. Evaluation of the pawpaw tree, Asimina triloba (Annonaceae), as a commercial source of the pesticidal annonaceous acetogenins. p. 644-648. In: J. Janick and J.E. Simon (eds.), New Crops. Wiley, New York.

Yatskievych, G. 2006. Steyermark’s Flora of Missouri, Volume 2. The Missouri Botanical Garden Press, St. Louis, 1181 pp.

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Monday Moth – Trichaeta pterophorina

May 3, 2010June 20, 2012 / Ted C. MacRae / 13 Comments

Trichaeta pterophorina – Borakalalo National Park, South Africa

Another photo from the South Africa files, and one that continues the mimicry theme that has been featured in several recent posts. It’s not a great photograph – the focus is off – but the colors these moths sport are dazzling, and there is a nice symmetry to their tail-to-tail mating position.

Roy Goff, author of the website African Moths, tells me this species is the Simple Maiden (Amata simplex) in the family Arctiidae (whose ~2,000 species worldwide are increasingly considered a subfamily of the already enormous Noctuidae) [update 6/20/2012—Martin in a comment considers these moths to actually represent Trichaeta pterophorina in the same subfamily]. Its gestalt – greatly resembling a stinging wasp – brings to mind the so-called “wasp moths” of North America (subtribe Euchromiina); however, maidens belong to the exclusively Old World Syntomina. Like the wasp moths, most maidens are exceptionally colorful and exhibit clearly aposematic patterns. While these might seem to be textbook examples of Batesian mimicry, most species in this group are also protected by distasteful secondary plant compounds that they sequester through feeding, making them Mullerian rather than Batesian mimics. These compounds are not only acquired by larvae from their food plants, but also by adult moths who imbibe them from fluid regurgitated through their proboscis onto dried parts of plants containing the compounds and into which they dissolve.

Their aposematism is not limited to strictly visual cues. An Australian species, Amata annulata, is known to regularly emit ultrasonic clicks when flying, thought to be aposematic behavior to warn bats of its distastefulness in the same way that that its coloration warns daytime predators. Additional defensive characters that have been described for species in the group include frothing and extrusion of defensive processes. Clearly, maidens are leaders in the arms race among the insects!

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My first jumping spider

April 28, 2010October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 32 Comments

As a long-time professional and avocational entomologist, I find beauty and fascination in all manner of joint-legged creatures. Of course, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and most people don’t exactly share my passion for these animals. Sure, butterflies enjoy almost universal approval, but beetles are just too crunchy, flies too filthy, wasps too aggressive, and cockroaches… well, eww! Even crabs and lobsters, tasty as they are, just move too robotically to engender any feelings of affection. None of these groups, however, seem to be as universally reviled as spiders – scuttling blurs of leg and fur with beady little eyes, just waiting to launch a sneak attack with their venomous gnashers. Few other coin-sized animals can cause an otherwise lucid adult to run screaming from their bathroom with such terror.

Except jumping spiders! Jumping spiders (family Salticidae) possess many of the same traits that condemn other spiders to the ranks of the creepy – hair and venom and lots of eyes; yet they have other unique qualities that make them nevertheless endearing, almost cuddly, to all but the most ardent of arachnophobes. Their human-like “face” featuring two large, forward-facing eyes and inquisitive nature give them a charisma that almost invites interaction. Approach any other spider, and it scampers back into the nearest crevice. Jumping spiders, on the other hand, turn and face the intruder – you can almost see them sizing you up – perhaps even moving forward a little to have a better look. It makes them seem, well… intelligent. Add to that their stunning diversity (~5,000 species), dazzling colors, and the sometimes impressively elongated choppers of the males, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for charm. Bouncy, furry, smart, cute, and big bright eyes – almost sounds like a kitten!

The result of all this charm is that jumping spiders are wildly popular subjects for macrophotography. Accordingly, there has been a veritable explosion of online photographs of jumping spiders, dominated by close-ups of that irresistible face. These shots here represent my first attempt to photograph one of these endearing creatures, and while I’m happy with them considering my relative newness to the field, they are a far cry from the spectacular images being produced by some other photographers. Perhaps the best of these is Thomas Shahan, whose focus-stacked facial shots of these spiders are among the most stunning that you will find. Another photographer who has produced some excellent photographs of Malaysian jumping spiders is Kurt at Up Close with Nature. Perhaps someday my jumping spider photographs will be considered on par with those that these two gentlemen are producing – if that day comes, you can say it began right here!

I’m a beetle-man, so except for a brief attempt at ant taxonomy my area of expertise lies with the Coleoptera. Nevertheless, perusing the well-stocked archives at BugGuide leads me to believe that the individual I photographed is a subadult female in the genus Phidippus – perhaps something in the putnami species-group. I found her on a lower branch of sweetgum (Liquidamber styraciflua) in a wet-mesic bottomland forest along the Black River in Missouri’s southeastern Ozarks feeding on a blow fly (family Calliphoridae). While relatively drably-colored compared to many other species in the family, a glimpse of her bright blue-green chelicerae (fangs) can still be seen. I tried to get her to drop her prey to get a better look at the fangs, but she wasn’t having anything to do with that – mealtime is mealtime!

Photo Details: Canon MP-E 65 mm 1-5X macro lens on Canon 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/13-14, MT-24EX flash 1/8 power w/ Sto-Fen diffusers. Minimal cropping and post-processing.

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Pseudomethoca simillima – a model for Enoclerus ichneumoneus?

April 27, 2010October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 18 Comments

Pseudomethoca simillima (family Mutillidae) - the model?

Enoclerus ichneumoneus (family Cleridae) - the mimic?

Last week, I posted the above photograph of Enoclerus ichneumoneus (orange-banded checkered beetle) and mentioned its possibly mimetic appearance to velvet ants in the family Mutillidae (order Hymenoptera). By some stroke of serendipity, I encountered a species of Mutillidae the very next day in Missouri’s southeastern lowlands that seems to be a good candidate for one of, if not the, model species that E. ichneumoneus might have evolved to resemble. Several individuals were encountered as they zigzagged urgently on dry sand deposits along the Mississippi River (where I had hoped, unsuccessfully, to find another locality for our intergrade population of Cicindela scutellaris). Comparison of the individual in the photo with specimens in my collection (all identified by mutillid expert Kevin Williams, Utah State University) suggests this is Pseudomethoca simillima, and the photo is also a good match with other photographs of the species at BugGuide. One thing that bothers me with the idea of this being a model for E. ichneumoneus is that I have not seen P. methoca commonly in Missouri (I have only three specimens in my collection), while E. ichneumoneus is one of our most common clerids. There is another mutillid species in Missouri – Dasymutilla quadriquttata – that also seems to have potential as a model for E. ichneumoneus and that I have encountered much more commonly in the state. However, D. quadriguttata is somewhat larger than E. ichneumoneus. At any rate, other than the statement by Mawdsley (1994) that E. ichneumoneus seems to mimic mutillids, I can’t find that any more specific information has been recorded about the possible model(s) for that species.

As a caveat, I shall add that this mutillid was the… most… uncooperative… insect… that I have ever tried to photograph! They really never stop moving, so you have to track the moving insect through the lens and fire shots when you think you’ve got it centered and focused. Most of the time you don’t! Using the Canon 1-5X macro lens for this did not make things any easier. I tracked this female for quite a while and fired off a number of shots, only to get this one that I thought was fairly decent (and still just missed the focus on the near side of the pronotum).

Speaking of mutillids, I simply must photograph my specimen of Dasymutilla gloriosa (sometimes called the thistledown velvet ant) – you will not believe it!

Photo Details:
Pseudomethoca simillima: Canon MP-E 65 mm 1-5X macro lens on Canon 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14, MT-24EX flash 1/8 power w/ Sto-Fen diffusers. Minimal cropping and post-processing.
Enoclerus ichneumoneus: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power w/ Sto-Fen diffusers. Minimal cropping and post-processing.

REFERENCE:

Mawdsley, J. R. 1994. Mimicry in Cleridae (Coleoptera). The Coleopterists Bulletin 48(2):115-125.

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Revision of the Formicidae of North America

April 26, 2010October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 66 Comments

Formica meganigra guarding a nest entrance.

I recently came across this ant in the southeastern Missouri Ozarks sitting in a hole in the trunk of a standing dead black oak (Quercus velutinus) tree, apparently guarding the entrance to its nest. This big black ant is frequently associated with dead wood; however, this is the first time I’ve noticed one guarding the entrance to its nest. Other workers coming back to the nest were greeted by this individual by a quick rubbing of antennae and then allowed to pass. The close approach of my camera apparently was not very welcome by the ant, who responded by showing off ~~his~~ *her* impressive choppers.

In trying to determine the species name for this ant, it became clear to me that myrmecologists have made things far more complicated than they really need to be. When I was a kid, ant identification was easy – there were black ants and red ants, and within those two main guilds some were big, some were not so big, and some were really small. Peter Yeeles alluded to this traditional classification in a recent comment at Fall to Climb, which the Geek herself later modified to recognize ants that were neither black nor red. In that classification, this is clearly a big black ant; however, the myrmecologists have unnecessarily split this species up into multiple genera and species based on inconsequential characters such as punctures on the head, clypeal notches, hairy scapes, etc. I propose to bring a measure of sanity back to ant identification in North America with a revised key to the family (below). It is based on the traditional classification but also recognizes the introduction in recent years of an alien species that stings and has colonized a large part of the southern United States (we didn’t have those when I was a kid). In offering this simplified classification, it is my hope that school children across the country – naturally curious about ants and other insects – will no longer have their budding interest squashed by the ponderous, complex ant identification system that has become so fashionable in recent years.

Photo Details: Canon MP-E 65mm 1-5X macro lens on Canon 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14, MT-24EX flash 1/8 power w/ Sto-Fen diffusers.

Revised Key to Formicidae of North America

.
1	Color black . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2
1′	Color not black . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4

2 (1)	Enormous. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Formica meganigra (big black ant)
2′	Not enormous. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3

3 (2′)	Regular size . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Formica nigra (black ant)
3′	Tiny. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Formica micronigra (little black ant)

4 (1′)	Color red. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
4′	Color yellow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6

5 (4)	Can sting. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Solenopsis invicta (fire ant)
5′	Can’t sting. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Formica rubra (red ant)

6 (4′)	Regular size. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Formica flava (yellow ant)
6′	Tiny . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Formica microflava (little yellow ant)

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Beetles In The Bush

Experiences and reflections of a Missouri entomologist

Arthropoda

Waiter, there’s a fly on my fungus…

A Horridus Birthday

Hitchin’ A Ride

Friday Flower – Pawpaw

Monday Moth – Trichaeta pterophorina

My first jumping spider

Pseudomethoca simillima – a model for Enoclerus ichneumoneus?

Revision of the Formicidae of North America

Revised Key to Formicidae of North America

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Revised Key to Formicidae of North America

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