Working with Cerceris fumipennis—Part 1

/ Ted C. MacRae / 20 Comments

For nearly 30 years, jewel beetles (family Buprestidae) have been my primary research interest. While some species in this family have long been regarded as forest and landscape pests, my interest in the group has a more biosystematic focus. A faunal survey of Missouri was the result of my initial efforts (MacRae 1991), while later research has focused on distributions and larval host associations of North American species (Nelson & MacRae 1990; Nelson et al. 1996; MacRae & Nelson 2003; MacRae 2004, 2006) and descriptions of new species from both North America (Nelson & MacRae 1994, MacRae 2003b) and South America (MacRae 2003a). Research interest in other groups—especially longhorned beetles and tiger beetles, has come and gone over the past three decades; however, I always return to jewel beetles as  my first and favorite group.

In recent years, one species in particular—the emerald ash borer (EAB, Agrilus planipennis) has garnered a huge amount of research, regulatory, and public interest after reaching North America from Asia and spreading alarmingly through the hardwood forests of Michigan and surrounding states. The attention is justifiable, given the waves of dead native ash trees that have been left in its wake. With huge areas in eastern North America still potentially vulnerable to invasion by this species, the bulk of the attention has focused on preventing its spread from infested areas and monitoring areas outside of its known current distribution to detect invasion as early as possible. One incredibly useful tool that has been adopted by survey entomologists is the crabronid wasp, Cerceris fumipennis. Like other members of the family, these solitary wasps dig nests in the ground, which they then provision with captured insect prey. The wasp uses its sting to paralyzed the prey but not kill it, and once inside the burrow the wasp lays an egg on the prey and seals the cell with a plug of soil. The eggs hatch and larvae develop by consuming the paralyzed prey (unable to scream!). After pupation the adult digs its way out of the burrow (usually the next season), and the cycle begins anew. However, unlike other members of the family (at least in North America), C. fumipennis specializes almost exclusively on jewel beetles for prey. So efficient are these wasps at locating and capturing the beetles that entomologists have begun using them to sample areas around known wasp populations as a means of detecting the presence of EAB. Philip Careless and Stephen Marshall (University of Guelph, Ontario) and colleagues have been leading this charge and have even developed methods for transporting wasp colonies as a mobile survey tool and developed a sizeable network of citizen scientists throughout eastern North America to expand the scope of their survey efforts. Information about this can be found at the excellent website, Working with Cerceris fumipennis (please pardon my shameless lifting of the title for this post).

I first became aware of the potential of working with C. fumipennis a few years ago when Philip sent me a PDF of his recently published brochure on use of this wasp for EAB biosurveillance (Careless et al. 2009). My correspondence with him and other eastern entomologists involved in the work suggested that ball fields with lightly vegetated, sandy soil would be the best places to look for C. fumipennis nests, but my cursory attempts to find the wasp at that time were unsuccessful. I reasoned that the clay-soaked soils of Missouri didn’t offer enough sand for the wasps’ liking and didn’t think much more about it until last winter when I agreed to receive for ID a batch of 500+ buprestid specimens taken from C. fumipennis wasps in Louisiana. What a batch of material! In addition to nice series of several species that I had rarely or never seen (e.g. Poecilonota thureura), three new state records were represented amongst the material. A paper is now in progress based on these collections, and that experience catalyzed a more concerted effort on my part to locate a population of the wasp in Missouri. Museum specimens were no help—the only records from Missouri were from old specimens bearing generic locality labels such as “St. Louis” and “Columbia.” Throughout the month of May, I visited as many ball fields as I could, but the results were always the same—regularly groomed, heavy clay, barren soil with no evidence of wasp burrows (or any burrows for that matter).

Near the end of May, however, I had a stroke of luck. I had switched to a flatter route through the Missouri River Valley to ride my bike to work because of knee pain (now thankfully gone) when I saw this:

Practice fields at Chesterfield Valley Athletic Complex | St. Louis Co., Missouri

Those are “practice” fields in front of regular fields in the background, and unlike the latter, this row of nine fields (lined up against the levee adjacent to the Big Muddy National Wildlife Refuge) showed no evidence of regular grooming or heavy human use. Only ten miles from my home, I made immediate plans to inspect the site at the first opportunity that weekend. Within minutes after walking onto the lightly vegetated, sandy-clay soil of the first field, I found numerous burrows such as this:

Cerceris fumipennis with circular, pencil-wide burrow entrance and symmetrical mound of diggings.

Only a few more minutes passed before I found an occupied nest, the wasp sitting just about an inch below the entrance to its pencil-wide burrow. The three yellow markings on the face indicated it was a female (males have only two facial markings), and in short order I found numerous other burrows also occupied by female wasps. Some were just sitting below the burrow entrance, while others were actively digging and pushing soil out of the burrow with their abdomen. I flicked a little bit of soil into one of the burrows with a female sitting below the surface, which prompted an immediate “cleaning out” of the burrow—this explains the dirty face of the female in the following photo, but the three yellow facial markings are clearly visible:

Cerceris fumipennis female removing soil from burrow entrance.

After finding the burrows and their occupants, I began to notice a fair number of wasps in flight—leaving nests, returning to nests, and flying about as if searching for a ‘misplaced’ nest. A few of these were males, but most were females, and I also caught a couple pairs flying in copula (or at least hitched, if not actually copulating). Despite the number of wasps observed during this first visit, I didn’t see a single wasp carrying a buprestid beetle. This puzzled me, because all of the Louisiana beetles I had determined last winter were taken by standing in the midst of nests and netting those observed carrying beetles. Finally, I had confirmation that I was truly dealing with this species when I found a couple of beetles lying on the ground near the entrance to a burrow. These would be the only beetles that I would find on this visit, but subsequent visits during the following few weeks would show “ground picking” to be the most productive method of collecting beetles. Across the nine fields, I found a total of nearly 300 nests, and the wasps showed a clear preference for some fields over others—one field (P-6) had about 150 nests, while a few others had less than a dozen. The photo shown in ID Challenge #19 shows a sampling of ground-picked buprestids from P-6 in a single day, and occasionally I would find a real prize like Buprestis rufipes:

Buprestis rufipes laying near Cerceris fumipennis nest entrance.

Coincident with the appearance of large numbers of beetles laying on the ground near nest entrances, I also began to see wasps carrying their prey. Wasps carrying large beetles are easily recognized by their profile, but even those carrying small beetles look a little more “thick-thoraxed” (they hold their prey upside down and head forward under their thorax) and exhibit a slower, more straight-line flight path compared to the faster, more erratic and repetitively dipping flight of wasps not carrying prey. Learning how to discern wasps carrying prey in flight from the more numerous empty-handed wasps prevents a lot of wasted time and effort netting the latter. Nevertheless, there does appear to be some bias towards larger beetles when netting prey-carrying wasps in flight, as evidenced in the photo below of beetles taken by this method, also in field P-6, on the same date as the ground-picked beetles shown in ID Challenge #19. This could be a result of visual bias towards wasps carrying larger beetles, as in later visits (and presumably with a more refined search image) I did succeed in catching larger numbers wasps carrying smaller beetles (primarily in the genus Agrilus).

Buprestid prey of Cerceris fumipennis: L–R and top to bottom 2 Dicerca obscura, 2 D. lurida, 3 Poecilonota cyanipes, 2 Acetenodes acornis, 1 Chrysobothris sexsignata, 1 Agrilus quadriguttatus, and 1 A. obsoletoguttatus

All told, I collected several hundred beetles during my twice weekly visits to the site from late May to the end of June. Beetle abundance and wasp activity began to drop off precipitously in late June, which coincides precisely with the end of the adult activity period for a majority of buprestid beetles in Missouri, based on my observations over the years. This did not, however, spell the end of my activities in using C. fumipennis to collect buprestid beetles, which will be the subject of Part 2 in this series.

Congratulations to Joshua Basham, whose efforts in ID Challenge #19 earned him 12 points and the win. Morgan Jackson and Paul Kaufman were the only others to correctly identify the Cerceris fumipennis connection and take 2nd and 3rd, respectively. In an unexpected turn of events, BitB Challenge Session #6 overall leader Sam Heads did not participate and was leapfrogged by Brady Richards, whose becomes the new overall leader with 59 points. Sam now trails Brady by 5 points, while Mr. Phidippus lies another 3 points back. With margins this tight, the overall standing can still change in a single challenge, and there will be at least one more in this current session before an overall winner is named.

REFERENCES:

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

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

MacRae, T. C. 2003a. Mastogenius guayllabambensis MacRae, a new species from Ecuador (Coleoptera: Buprestidae: Haplostethini). The Coleopterists Bulletin 57(2):149–153.

MacRae, T. C. 2003b. Agrilus (s. str.) betulanigrae MacRae (Coleoptera: Buprestidae: Agrilini), a new species from North America, with comments on subgeneric placement and a key to the otiosus species-group in North America. Zootaxa 380:1–9.

MacRae, T. C. 2004. Notes on host associations of Taphrocerus gracilis (Say) (Coleoptera: Buprestidae) and its life history in Missouri. The Coleopterists Bulletin 58(3):388–390.

MacRae, T. C. 2006. Distributional and biological notes on North American Buprestidae (Coleoptera), with comments on variation in Anthaxia (Haplanthaxia) viridicornis (Say) and A. (H.) viridfrons Gory. The Pan-Pacific Entomologist 82(2):166–199.

MacRae, T. C., & G. H. Nelson. 2003. Distributional and biological notes on Buprestidae (Coleoptera) in North and Central America and the West Indies, with validation of one species. The Coleopterists Bulletin 57(1):57–70.

Nelson, G. H., & T. C. MacRae. 1990. Additional notes on the biology and distribution of Buprestidae (Coleoptera) in North America, III. The Coleopterists Bulletin 44(3):349–354.

Nelson, G. H., & T. C. MacRae. 1994. Oaxacanthaxia nigroaenea Nelson and MacRae, a new species from Mexico (Coleoptera: Buprestidae). The Coleopterists Bulletin 48(2):149–152.

Nelson, G. H., R. L. Westcott & T. C. MacRae. 1996. Miscellaneous notes on Buprestidae and Schizopodidae occurring in the United States and Canada, including descriptions of previously unknown sexes of six Agrilus Curtis (Coleoptera). The Coleopterists Bulletin 50(2):183–191.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Cicada killer on the fly

/ Ted C. MacRae / 6 Comments

An eastern cicada killer (Sphecius speciosus) searches for her burrow | Jacksonville, Illinois.

I don’t normally spend much time trying to photograph insects in flight. To really do it right requires some rather specialized equipment, including very high-speed flash, and a bucketload of patience and skill. John Abbott exemplifies those whose great talent has produced stunning photographs of insects in mid-flight. That’s not to say that it can’t be done “on the fly,” so to speak, and even a hack like me can get lucky every now and then.

Earlier today I found a rather large number of eastern cicada killers (Sphecius speciosus) in a ball field in Jacksonville, Illinois. These impressive wasps are the largest wasp in eastern North America and have the rather gruesome habit of paralyzing cicadas with their sting, and then dragging them down into their burrows to be eaten alive by their grubs. I’ve recently become interested in solitary wasps (for reasons to be discussed later) and decided to see if I could get some decent photographs. I got a few I like (more on this later), but my favorite is this total luck-out shot of a wasp face-on in mid-flight. As I watched them, I noticed that each wasp spent a fair amount of time trying to identify its burrow amongst the dozen or more that were clustered along one side of the field. Occasionally they would land and search about a bit on foot, then take wing again to continue their search. I decided the best way to get a shot of one on the wing would be to watch for a wasp to arrive and begin its search. When I spotted one I would slowly close distance so I could be ready to get down on my elbows as soon as it landed (closing distance without spooking the wasp was not easy). I had just my center focal point set and autofocus turned on (normally I don’t use autofocus) and had already worked out a good flash exposure compensation setting. As soon as I got on my elbows, I would quickly frame the wasp and repeatedly trigger the autofocus as I got even closer, and when the wasp took flight I took the shot. This was still a crap shoot—I ended up with lots of out-of-focus and out-of-frame photos. Nevertheless, a few turned out fairly decent, one of which was this single, perfectly head-on and well-focused photo (though admittedly somewhat cropped).

Too bad I didn’t collect any of the wasps—at $49 each I could’ve made enough cash to buy that flash bracket I’ve been eyeing!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

The importance of background and apparent light size

/ Ted C. MacRae / 8 Comments

I’m still getting submissions for ID Challenge #19 and don’t quite have the followup post ready yet, so I’ll give it a couple more days. In the meantime, I’d like to re-share the photo below, originally shown a few weeks ago in my post  A few people commented that this was their favorite photo in the series—perhaps like me they are suckers for face shots, but I think this photo succeeds in large part because of its soft-green background. This was actually one of several similar face shots that I took, each differing the other almost exclusively in the choice of background. In the end, I chose the green background to include in the post, not only because it was the most aesthetically pleasing, but also because I felt it best represented the environment of the beetle—ensconced within the foliage of its preferred host plant, ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius).

Green background—achieved by placing a leaf some distance behind the subject.

Such background is easily achieved in full-flash macro photography by placing a green leaf some distance behind the subject, although in practice this can be a little tricky—you want the leaf far enough away from the subject that it is completely out of focus, eliminating distracting details, but close enough so that it actually reflects light from the flash and shows up as green. This becomes trickier still if the photographer is already holding the subject (as I was, or at least the branch on which the subject was sitting), as the distance between the subject and the background must be adjusted by moving the subject (and hence the camera), rather than the leaf.

Black background—the typical background of full-flash macrophotography.

Here is a similar shot of the beetle without placing anything in the background. This is full-flash lighting because I’m using small apertures and high shutter speeds to prevent motion blur and maximize depth-of-field. As a result, only objects in the vicinity of the subject and illuminated by the flash will show up in the exposure. This results in the almost-trademark black background of typical full-flash illuminated macrophotography. Despite what you may read or hear, there is nothing wrong with a black background. Some consider it boring—probably because it is so common in macrophotography. However, there are times when it truly is the best choice of backgrounds—especially with a white or light-colored subject (for example, see this photo of the white-flowered Great Plains ladies’-tresses orchid, Spiranthes magnicamporum). With darker subjects, however, black may not be the most appealing choice of backgrounds, so it’s good to keep this in mind and choose accordingly.

Blue background—bump the ISO up to 320 and point the subject to the brightest part of the sky.

Of course, there is one way to avoid a black background without placing an object behind the subject (or placing the subject in front of an object), and that is to use the open sky to achieve a nice, blue background. This is one of the trickier of the background techniques, as it relies on finding a fine balance between ISO, aperture and shutter speed. For this photo, I bumped the ISO up to 320 (normally I use 160) and slightly opened up the aperture (f/13 rather than f/16). These settings, combined with pointing the subject to the very brightest part of the sky (excluding the sun!) allowed me to keep the shutter speed reasonably fast (1/200 sec). I find that lower shutter speeds nearly always result in some motion blur (all of my photos are hand-held), so I avoid reducing shutter speed if at all possible. I also find that ISO settings above 320 result in unacceptable graininess, so I will back down on the aperture (even down to f/11 or f/10) if I have to in order to avoid going above ISO 320 and below 1/200 sec exposure. On especially bright days, areas of the sky closest to the sun will provide enough light that you can use aperture to fine-tune the background to the desired intensity of blue—the smaller the aperture the more intense and darker the blue will be (along with providing greater depth of field). While a blue background works for this subject, I simply like the green background better. I find that blue background shots are most pleasing with foliage and flower-feeding insects, adding a touch of realism to the photo without the cluttered, distracting look of other natural backgrounds or the “studio” feel of black background shots. This photo of the South American weevil, Megabaris quadriguttatus, is perhaps my favorite example of the use of blue background.

By now, the more technically oriented photographer types among you might have noticed something that all three photos have in common (besides the subject), and that is the difference in specular highlighting exhibited by the left and right eyes of the subject. Reverse engineering suggests that I had two sources of light (which is true, I use Canon’s MT24-EX twin macro flash), and that the light source illuminating the beetle’s right side either had a much larger diffuser or was placed much closer to the subject. In fact, it was the latter, as I simply detached the left flash unit and held it much closer to the subject to confirm for myself what effect this has. Because the flash unit is closer to the subject, it has much larger apparent size, resulting in more even lighting over that side of the subject and, accordingly, softer specular highlights. If I had a third arm I would have done the same with the second light source (and a fourth arm would allow me to also hold a green leaf behind the subject!). Unfortunately, additional appendages are not an option, so I’m going to have to figure out an efficient, light, easy way to get my light sources as close to the subject as possible. Snoot diffusers are one option, but they have limited flexibility to make fine adjustments to the subject-distance as camera distance changes. Going to a single light source and holding it off-camera is another option, but hand-holding a light source leaves one less hand to hold other things (like the subject), and I do prefer the reduction of shadows provided by multiple light sources. I’ve already discussed the , and I do have some other ideas that I’m working on as well. However, your ideas also would be most welcome!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

ID Challenge #19

/ Ted C. MacRae / 33 Comments

We all have something in common…

Here is a bit of a different ID Challenge—can you identify the beetles represented in the photo, but more importantly can you deduce what all of these beetles have in common (other than the fact that they belong to the same family)? Obviously these are all jewel beetles (family Buprestidae), so we won’t worry about higher classification. Instead, I’ll give 1 pt for each correctly named genus (don’t bother trying to identify species) and a whopping 5 pts for figuring out what it is they have in common. Early bird pts will be given for the latter question only. Please read the full rules if you are not already familiar with them—good luck!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

One-Shot Wednesday: two-striped grasshopper nymph

/ Ted C. MacRae / 3 Comments

Melanoplus bivittatus (Two-striped Grasshopper) nymph | Jerseyville, Illinois

As the heat of summer solidifies its chokehold over the middle and southern latitudes of North America, grasshopper nymphs will begin to ramp up their development. I see grasshoppers commonly in my soybean field trials, where their feeding presents more of an annoyance to me than an actual threat to yields.

I photographed this particular individual on almost this same date last year in one of my Illinois soybean trials, not knowing for sure which species it represented. There was no particular reason for only taking this one single photograph, other than it was perched nicely when I saw it and that I did not feel like taking the time to chase it into another good pose after my first shot disturbed it.

Later in the season I saw numerous adults representing Melanoplus differentialis (differential grasshopper), a common species in this area, and assumed this was its nymph. However, a closer look at the photo suggests it represents the closely related M. bivittatus (two-striped grasshopper). While adults of these two species are easily distinguished based on coloration, the nymphs can look very similar (especially in their earlier instars) and are distinguished on the basis of the black femoral marking—more or less solid in M. bivittatus and broken into chevrons that create a “herringbone” pattern in M. differentialis.

Wing pad size and relative body proportions suggest this is a fourth-instar nymph.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Sea Grape Flatid – Petrusa epilepsis

/ Ted C. MacRae / 4 Comments

The argid sawfly Sericoceros krugii wasn’t the only insect I saw associated with seagrape (Coccoloba uvifera) during my May trip to Puerto Rico. While exploring the magnificent coastal sand dune system near Isabela (northwestern Puerto Rico), I encountered a tree with literally dozens of frosty, white “homopterans” on the reddish lower surface of its newly expanded leaves (the photo below shows them at only about half the density that I saw initially, as many became disturbed and left when I tried to photograph them). Clearly they were planthoppers in the superfamily Fulgoroidea, with their general shape wings held tent-like suggesting either the family Acanaloniidae or its close relatives in the family Flatidae.

Petrusa epilepsis adults on seagrape (Coccoloba uvifera) | vic. Isabela, Puerto Rico

A better look at the adults in the photos revealed the presence of numerous parallel cross-veins along the costal margin of the forewings, placing them squarely within the family Flatidae (species of Acanaloniidae have reticulate forewing venation without the parallel cross-veins). Wolcott (1948) lists a dozen or so species of flatids from Puerto Rico, roughly half of which belong to the subfamily Flatinae (wings held tent-like) and the other half belonging to the Flatoidinae (more flattened insects with wings held almost horizontal). The likeliest candidate seemed to be Ormenis marginata, which Wolcott describes as occurring in the “millions, vast clouds of them flying up from seagrape plants that one may disturb around Isabela…” I can’t say I saw “millions” of them, but certainly they were abundant on this one plant. My identification was kindly confirmed by Neotropical fulgoroid Lois O’Brien, who also noted that this species now goes under the name Petrusa epilepsis Kirkaldy.


This seems to be a species that could cause considerable problems should it ever find it’s way to the mainland U.S. Many flatids are famously infidel when it comes to host plants—Metcalfa pruinosa (citrus flatid planthopper) being perhaps the best known example. Petrusa epilepsis not only feeds on seagrape but has also become a pest of coffee (Coffea arabica), coco-plum (Chrysobalanus icaco), jasmin (Jasminum spp. ) and black mangrove (Avicennia germinans), with damage resulting not only from direct feeding but also the development of sooty mold that colonize the honeydew excreted by the bugs that covers the foliage of the plants they infest (Nieves-Rivera et al. 2002).

A particularly amusing passage by Wolcott was his observation that adults “with care may be chased around a stem by gentle pursuit with a lead pencil.” I can add that a finger works equally well, as I used precisely this technique to get the adults in these last two photos positioned precisely where I wanted them for the photographs. Let’s hope they are as easily kept within their current West Indies distribution and are not eventually unleashed as yet another exotic pest for agricultural producers in tropical and subtropical mainland America to deal with.

REFERENCES:

Nieves-Rivera, Á. M., T. A. Tattar & E. H. Williams, Jr. 2002. Sooty mould-planthopper association on leaves of the black mangrove, Avicennia germinans (L.) Stearn in southwestern Puerto Rico.  Journal 26:141–155.

Wolcott, G. N. 1948. Insects of Puerto Rico. The Journal of Agriculture of the University of Puerto Rico 32(1):1–223.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

West Indian seagrape sawfly

/ Ted C. MacRae / 11 Comments

I spent a few days in Puerto Rico last month. A quick in-and-out for work, there was little chance to do any real exploring. Nevertheless, I booked my return on the last possible flight out so that I would have at least part of a day to look around before needing to go to the airport. I’ve only been to Puerto Rico twice before—once in 1982 on a one-day visit during my honeymoon cruise (with a far-too-rushed guided tour to El Yunque), and again in 1999, also a quickie for work. Given my limited previous opportunities to explore San Juan, you might think I would choose La Forteleza and San Juan National Historic Site in Old San Juan for my day’s destination. After all, they were designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO (United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization) in 1983. Tempting, but when I looked at the map of San Juan a nice, big, chunk of green immediately caught my eye—Bosque Estatal de Piñones (Pine State Forest). Call me single-minded, but not even a World Heritage Site can match the siren call of 1,500 acres of moist, subtropical forest!

Sericoceros krugii female guarding eggs on leaf underside of sea grape (Coccoloba uvifera) | Bosque Estatal de Piñones, San Juan, Puerto Rico

Mangrove forest covers much of the reserve, accessed by a wide (and annoyingly elevated) boardwalk—an interesting stroll but unsatisfying to me since I couldn’t root around at ground level. One can get only so much enjoyment from distinguishing red, black, and white mangrove before the sameness of the canopy and exclusion from the ground flora/fauna starts to become monotonous. I went back towards the parking lot (photographing a few lizards along the way—more on them in a future post) and had just begun walking the perimeter of a picnic area when I encountered some very large seagrape (Coccoloba uvifera) plants. I’ve seen a lot of seagrape in Florida and have never found any insects on it, so I initially didn’t make much effort to go over and have a closer look at them. However, even from afar I could see that these particular plants had been very heavily damaged by some type of defoliating insect. The first few branches I looked at showed no outward evidence of who the culprit was, but I reasoned it must have been some sort of lepidopteran caterpillar. As I was inspecting the branches, the insect in the above photo caught my eye—at first I thought it was some type of “homopteran” because of the apparent egg-guarding behavior it was showing, but a closer look revealed that it was actually a sawfly! An egg guarding sawfly; who would have thought?!

Female ovipositing her clutch of eggs, which are solid red when first laid.

Predictably, subsequent identification was quite easy as there is only a single species of sawfly in Puerto Rico—Sericoceros krugii in the family Argidae. About 20 species make up this Neotropical genus, occurring from southern Mexico south to Argentina; however, S. krugii is the only species occurring in the West Indies and in addition to Puerto Rico is found in the U.S. Virgin Islands and Dominican Republic (Smith 1992). The species in this genus seem to specialize on Coccoloba spp. (family Polygonaceae) as host plants; however, one species is reported from Triplaris caracasana—also in the Polygonaceae (Smith & Benitez Diaz 2001), and another from Lonchocarpus minimiflorus in the family Fabaceae (Smith & Janzen 2003).

Larvae consume all but the largest veins of the foliage.

Wolcott (1948) describes how this species often defoliates long stretches of seagrape on the beaches of Puerto Rico, leaving “windrows of excrement on the sand underneath the naked branches and leaf midribs…” He also describes its apparent lack of natural enemies (although it has since been recorded as a host for a tachinid fly—Bennett 1999) and the fact that birds do not seem to eat them as possible reasons for its abundance and frequent outbreaks. To me, the screaming red/black coloration of the adult and apparent unpalatability to birds suggest the presence of chemical defenses, and although I couldn’t find any information on this specific to Sericoceros spp., many social species of sawflies are typically well-defended chemically and, thus, aposematic. Despite this apparent defensive capability, the remarkable maternal guarding behavior exhibited by the adult females suggests the eggs still need additional protection from predators and parasitoids. Sericoceros spp. are not the only sawflies to exhibit this behavior, which apparently has evolved across numerous sawfly lineages (see Social Sawflies, by James T. Costa).

This mature larva will soon spin a coccoon on the bark for pupation.

There were only a few, apparently mature larvae still around on the trees that I could find. Wolcott (1948) describes most outbreaks as occurring during the fall and winter months, after which the insects might completely disappear for many months or even a year. I must have caught the tail end of one such outbreak, although the number of females that I saw guarding eggs suggests another wave of defoliation would soon be occurring.

Congratulations to itsybitsybeetle, who showed up late to the party but still managed to pull out the win for Super Crop Challenge #13. Brady Richards came in a close 2nd, while Sam Heads and Mr. Phidippus share the final podium spot. The overall standings remain the same, with Sam leading Brady by a single, slim point and Mr. Phidippus only six points further back. There will be two more challenges in BitB Challenge Session #6, so it’s still possible for somebody to make a late run, especially if one or more of the leaders falters down the stretch. Remember—the top three points earners at the end of the session will get a choice of some loot, so don’t hesitate when the next challenge rolls around.

REFERENCES:

Bennett, F. D. 1999. Vibrissina sp. (Diptera: Tachinidae) a parasite of the seagrape sawfly Sericoceros krugii (Hymenoptera: Argidae) in Puerto Rico: a new record. Journal of Agriculture of the University of Puerto Rico 83(1–2):75–78.

Smith, D. R. 1992. A synopsis of the sawflies (Hymenoptera: Symphyta) of America south of the United States: Argidae. Memoirs of the American Entomological Society 39:1–201.

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Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012