Best of BitB 2014

Welcome to the 7th Annual “Best of BitB”, where I pick my favorite photographs from the past year. Before I do this, however, let me briefly recap the year 2014. The trend of increasing travel each year continued, with more days spent on the road than in any prior year. Travel for work over the past few years has settled into a familiar routine—touring soybean fields in Argentina in late February and early March, working in my own field trials at (previously three, now four) sites in Illinois and Tennessee from late May through late September, touring more soybean fields at sites across the southeastern U.S. during mid-September, returning to Argentina in October to finalize plans for field trials in the upcoming season, and—finally—attending/presenting at the Entomological Society of America (ESA) Meetings (this year in Portland, Oregon). This heavy travel load makes scheduling my own insect collecting trips a bit tricky, but I’m a persistent sort! In late May I traveled to Tennessee and Georgia with fellow buprestophile Joshua Basham and lab mate Nadeer Youseff to collect several rare jewel beetles, then in late June I collected prionids and jewel beetles in Colorado, New Mexico, and Oklahoma with Jeff Huether. In addition to these longer trips, I also managed to take advantage of my work travel to check out interesting natural habitats along the way to and from my field sites. I continue to give the occasional entomology seminar as well, speaking in March at “Day of Insects” in Ames, Iowa and here in St. Louis to the Entomology Natural History Group of the Webster Groves Nature Study Society in April and the Missouri Master Naturalists Confluence Chapter in December. On top of all this, I still managed to vacation with my family in Lake Tahoe during March and in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico during late July.

I say all this to highlight the fact that after all these years I still consider myself an entomologist with a camera rather than a bona fide insect photographer. The reason for this is that the science of entomology itself remains my primary focus—photography is simply one of the tools that I have come to use in my pursuit of the discipline. I don’t mean to imply that I don’t continue to work on my photography style and technique—because I do. But my style and technique are not goals in of themselves; rather, they are means to an end—that end being my entomological studies. With that said, I present my favorite BitB photographs from 2014. As in previous years, my photos are largely hand-held, in situ field shots that are intended to tell a natural history story in a (hopefully) aesthetic manner. Links to original posts are provided for each photo selection, and I welcome any comments you may have regarding which (if any) is your favorite and why—such feedback will be helpful for me as I continue to hone my craft. If you’re interested, here are my previous years’ picks for 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012 and 2013. Once again, thank you for your readership, and I hope to see you in 2015!


Paraselenis tersa? female guarding her eggs | Cordoba Prov., Argentina

Paraselenis tersa (Boheman, 1854) | Cordoba Prov., Argentina

From Tortoise beetles on the job (posted April 20). This photograph of a tortoise beetle female over her egg mass illustrates maternal guarding behavior—rare in insects. The perfect lateral profile shot and clean, blue sky background also give the photo a pleasing aesthetic quality.


Who likes mole crickets?

Scapteriscus borellii Giglio-Tos, 1894 | Emanuel Co., Georgia

From Who likes mole crickets? (posted June 6). This has to be the most comical expression ever on the face of an insect!


Chrysobothris orono Frost, 1920 | South Cumberland State Park, Tennessee

Chrysobothris orono Frost, 1920 | South Cumberland State Park, Grundy Co., Tennessee

From Chrysobothris orono in Tennessee (posted July 29). I found this rare jewel beetle for the first time this year with the help of Josh Basham and Nadeer Youseff. The beetle itself is beautiful enough, but photographing it on a pine root with a presumed adult emergence hole adds considerable natural history interest to the photo. Rock substrate behind the root adds a pleasingly blurred background.


Buprestis (Stereosa) salisburyensis Herbst, 1801 | South Cumberland State Park, Tennessee.

Buprestis (Stereosa) salisburyensis Herbst, 1801 | South Cumberland State Park, Tennessee.

From The Buprestis tree (posted August 10). This was another of several jewel beetles that I found for the first time after more than three decades of collecting this group. I like the value contrast in this photo from the striking, metallic colors of the beetle against the nicely blurred cinnamon-colored pine bark of the tree on which it is sitting.


A "super moon" watches over a parasitized hornworm caterpillar.

A “super moon” watches over a parasitized hornworm caterpillar.

From A time of reckoning (posted August 13). I fully admit this is a composite photograph. Nevertheless, it is a faithful recreation of a true sight, and I don’t consider the use of composite techniques to overcome equipment shortcomings to be unethical. There is a haunting symmetry between the blood red moon—considered by some as a sign of the second coming—and the sad, parasitized caterpillar waiting for its inevitable demise.


The greatly expanded palps are thought to mimic beetle mandibles or spider pedipalps.

Phyllopalpus pulchellus Uhler, 1864 | Hickman Co., Kentucky

From My, what busy palps you have! (posted September 2). I’ve become quite fond of insect photos with the subject “peering” at me, the photographer”, from some unusual vantage point. The “pupils” in the eyes of this red-headed bush cricket give the insect an almost quizzical look.


Acmaeodera immaculata Horn, 1881 | vic. Vogel Canyon, Otero Co., Colorado.

Acmaeodera immaculata Horn, 1878 | vic. Vogel Canyon, Otero Co., Colorado.

From Sunset beetles (posted September 30). Taking photos of insects at sunset is a challenging and ephemeral experience—one has only a few minutes to take advantage of the unusual and serene colors it offers, while at the same time trying to determine the best camera and flash settings to use in the rapidly fading light. Of the several that I’ve tried, this one is my favorite because of the softly complimentary colors of the beetle, the flower upon which it is sitting, and the dying orange sky behind it. If I had to choose, I would probably pick this one as my favorite of the year because of the unusual and serene colors.


Megacyllene decora (Olivier, 1795) | Stoddard Co., Missouri

Megacyllene decora (Olivier, 1795) | Stoddard Co., Missouri

From Amorpha borer on goldenrod (posted October 5). I featured this very same species in Best of BitB 2012 but can’t resist choosing this second attempt at photographing the spectacularly beautiful adult—this time on goldenrod. As with the previous version this is a true in situ field photograph, hand held and using the left-hand technique to achieve precise composition against a clear blue sky—difficult to do with an insect of this size and using a 100-mm lens, but well worth the effort.


Buprestis (Knulliobuprestis) confluenta Say, 1823 | Woods Co., Oklahoma

Buprestis (Knulliobuprestis) confluenta Say, 1823 | Woods Co., Oklahoma

From A Buprestis hat-trick! (posted October 14). I didn’t take near as many of the classic “frontal portraits” this year, but this one of a jewel beetle that had eluded me for more than 30 years until this past June is perhaps my favorite of them all.


Agrilus concinnus  Horn, 1891 | Stoddard Co., Missouri

Agrilus concinnus Horn, 1891 | Stoddard Co., Missouri

From North America’s Most Beautiful Agrilus Jewel Beetle (posted October 19). There was a time when this beetle was considered one of North America’s rarest species of jewel beetle. Several years worth of hunting by me and others revealed this beetle’s association with mallow and its unusually late adult activity period—the two combining to make this beetle “seem” rare. This year I succeeded in photographing the spectacular adult beetle.


Cacama valvata female ovipositing

Cacama valvata (Uhler, 1888) | Vogel Canyon, Otero Co., Colorado

From Scorching plains, screaming cactus (posted December 5). Insect photos are always better when they also show some aspect of the subject’s natural history. I was lucky to find this female cactus dodger cicada in the act of ovipositing into the dry stem of cholla cactus—in a position where I could get a perfect lateral profile with a clean, blue sky background.


Moneilema armatum LeConte, 1853 | Vogel Canyon, Otero Co., Colorado

Moneilema armatum LeConte, 1853 | Vogel Canyon, Otero Co., Colorado

From Cactus beetle redux (posted December 20). Cactus beetles can be difficult to photograph, but sometimes they cooperate by nicely posing on a pleasing pink flower bud with a blue sky in the background and the cactus spines forming a nice, fuzzy “halo” around the jet black beetle. There were surprisingly few cactus spines impaled in the control unit of my flash after this photo session.


I hope you’ve enjoyed this 2014 version of “Best of BitB” and look forward to seeing everyone in 2015.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2015

Cactus beetle redux!

Moneilema armatum LeConte, 1853 | Vogel Canyon, Otero Co., Colorado

Moneilema armatum LeConte, 1853 | Vogel Canyon, Otero Co., Colorado

On my most recent Great Plains collecting tripcactus dodger cicadas weren’t the only residents of the cholla cactus (Cylindropuntia imbricata) that studded the open grasslands in southeastern Colorado—cactus beetles (Moneilema spp.) also were found, though in lesser numbers than their frenetic, screeching neighbors (perhaps the reason for their scarcity?!). I’ve covered cactus beetles before, posing the question, “How do you photograph cactus beetles?” The answer was, of course, “Very carefully!” That is certainly true in most cases, but not all.

Moneilema armatum LeConte, 1853 | Vogel Canyon, Otero Co., Colorado

The clumsy, flightless adults rely on their host’s vicious spines for protection.

Cactus beetles are found almost exclusively on opuntioids (chollas and prickly pear cacti), and while most opuntioids are rather viciously spined the plants themselves vary tremendously in structure. Prickly pears (Opuntia spp.), on which I previously photographed these beetles, generally grow in low, dense clumps, their flattened pads often forming a tangle of well-armed hiding places for the beetles. Such is not the case with chollas, which are generally taller, more erect, and have a much more open structure of well spaced, cylindrical stems. The beetles on these plants still enjoy a great amount of protection by the long, barbed spines that cover the stems, but to entomologists/photographers like me they are still much more easily collected and photographed. In this particular case, no special techniques were needed to get nice close-up photos against a clear blue sky other than crouching down a bit and being careful not to lean too close to the plant. That is not to say, of course, that photographing insects on cholla is completely without risk, as this photo showing the spines impaled in my flash unit afterwards will attest (but better the flash unit than poking the lens!).

The hazards of photographing cactus beetles.

The hazards of photographing cactus beetles.

The cactus beetle in these photographs appears to be an armed cactus beetle, Moneilema armatum, by virtue of the small but distinct lateral spines on its pronotum, lack of pubescence on the elytra, and relatively smooth pronotum lacking large punctures except along the apical and basal margins. These shiny black beetles occur in the western Great Plains from Colorado and Kansas south through New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Texas into northern Mexico. Adults and larvae seem to prefer chollas over prickly pears—adults feeding on the surface and larvae tunneling within the stems. I suspect the adult feeding helps provide nutrition for egg maturation in addition to creating an oviposition site, and plants infested with larvae often appear unthrifty and exhibit black masses of hardened exudate along their stems (Woodruff 1966).

Hardened black masses of plant exudate indicate larval feeding within the stems.

Hardened black masses of plant exudate indicate larval feeding within the stems.

REFERENCES:

Linsley, E. G. and J. A. Chemsak. 1984. The Cerambycidae of North America, Part VII, No. 1: Taxonomy and classification of the subfamily Lamiinae, tribes Parmenini through Acanthoderini. University of California Publications in Entomology 102:1–258 [preview].

Woodruff, R. E. 1966. A cactus beetle new to the eastern United States (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae). Florida Department of Agriculture, Division of Plant Industry, Entomology Circular No. 53, 2 pp. [pdf].

© Ted C. MacRae 2014

Two endemic Jamaican jewel beetles: one known, one not?

I recently received a batch of jewel beetles from Enrico Ruzzier of Italy. It was an impressive sending (as is any sending of jewel beetles!) collected from diverse parts of the world, but what really caught my eye were two specimens he had collected earlier this year in Jamaica—both representing species in the genus Chrysobothris. Most members of this genus are moderate-sized in relation to other species in the family, but at only 5 and 6 mm in length the two specimens I received are downright tiny. They also are extraordinarily pretty compared to most species in the genus by virtue of their striking patterns of metallic green, red, and blue to violaceous colors! Even more interesting, however, was their West Indian provenance. This “biodiversity hotspot” enjoys not only high species diversity but also high species endemism as a result of the 7,000+ islands that comprise it. This is especially true for Jamaica, where my records indicate that 64% of the known jewel beetle fauna (16 of 25 species) occurs nowhere else.

One of the specimens was easily identifiable as Chrysobothris quadrimaculata (Fabricius, 1776) because of the transverse green, violaceous, and reddish-cupreous bands on the pronotum and metallic green “cross” on the elytra separating four large violaceous spots, each with a reddish-cupreous central area (Fisher 1925). This species has so far been found only in Jamaica and appears to be uncommon in collections. As far as I can tell, the only illustration of the species is a 224-year old drawing appearing in Olivier (1790)¹. Considering this and the extraordinary beauty of this little beetle, it seems appropriate to post a photo here (sent to me by Enrico in his initial query regarding its identity).

¹ This early landmark taxonomic publication is occasionally offered for sale by rare book dealers at asking prices that run in the thousands of dollars! Fortunately, the National Library of France has made a pdf of the book available for free download.

Chrysobothris quadrimaculata (Fabricius, 1776)

Chrysobothris quadrimaculata (Fabricius, 1776). Photo by Enrico Ruzzier.

The second specimen, even smaller but no less pretty than the first, has defied all attempts at identification. It does not key out in Fisher (1925) and clearly differs from the four species and one subspecies known to occur in Jamaica (all of which are endemic). Further comparison with descriptions of all known West Indian species also fails to turn up a match. Considering this and the fact that many West Indian Chrysobothris seem to be quite rare in general (Maier & Ivie 2012), I would not be surprised if this specimen turns out to represent yet another (and as yet undescribed) endemic species for Jamaica. I am hopeful (although not optimistic) that posting a photo here (also provided by Enrico Ruzzier) will prompt those with West Indian material in their collections to examine their holdings and see if any additional specimens can be located.

Chrysobothris n. sp. ex Jamaica

Chrysobothris n. sp.? Photo by Enrico Ruzzier.

REFERENCES:

Fisher, W. S. 1925. A revision of the West Indian Coleoptera of the family Buprestidae. Proceedings of The United States National Museum 65:1–207 [BioDiversity Heritage Library, BioStor].

Maier, C. A. & M. A. Ivie. 2013. New species and records of Chrysobothris Eschscholtz (Coleoptera: Buprestidae) from Montserrat, Saba, and Anguilla, with a key to the Chrysobothris thoracica species-group in the West Indies. The Coleopterists Bulletin 67(2):81–88 [BioOne].

Olivier, A. G. 1790. Entomologie, ou histoire naturelle des insectes, avec leurs caractères génériques et spécifiques, leur description, leur synonymie, et leur figure enluminée. Coléoptères. Tome 2, genera 9–34 (32. Bupreste), pp. 1–485, 63 plates, Baudouin, Paris [Bibliothèque nationale de France].

© Ted C. MacRae 2014

First internet image of Phaenops piniedulis

During last June’s collecting trip through the western Great Plains, we stopped at an interesting spot in northeastern New Mexico near the small town of Mills (Harding Co.). Mills itself sits smack dab in the middle of expansive shortgrass prairie; however, a few miles to the west the flat terrain gives way to a rugged, boulder-strewn sandstone canyon harboring oak-pine-juniper woodland. Welcome to Mills Canyon, which descends almost 1,000 feet to the Canadian River below.

Oak/juniper woodland at Mills Canyon, habitat for Prionus heroicus.

Oak-pine-juniper woodland near Mills Rim Campground, Harding Co., New Mexico.

Our quarry for the trip was longhorned beetles in the genus Prionus, especially those associated with grasslands in the central U.S., and while searching the area for suitable grassland-Prionus habitat we chanced upon this spot. Though not the grasslands we were searching for, the area looked interesting enough that we decided to stop and do a little beating. We were immediately rewarded with several interesting finds and decided to come back the next day when we had more time to spend. That was a good decision, as apparently the timing was perfect and we collected perhaps a dozen or more species of jewel and longhorned beetles.

Phaenops piniedulis on Pinus sp. | Mills Rim Campground, Harding Co., New Mexico.

Phaenops piniedulis on Pinus edulis  | Mills Rim Campground, Harding Co., New Mexico.

Perhaps the most interesting of the day’s catch was a single individual representing the jewel beetle Phaenops piniedulis. Though widespread across the southwestern U.S. (records exist from Arizona, California, Colorado, Nevada, New Mexico, Oregon, Utah, and Texas), it is nevertheless only rarely encountered, often no more than a few individuals at a time. As the name suggests, the species was originally associated with pinyon pine (Pinus edulis) (Burke 1908), although it has also been reared from California foothills pine (P. sabiniana), Jeffrey pine (P. jeffreyi), and single-leaf pinyon (P. monophylla) (MacRae & Nelson 2003). The species is distinguished from other several other North American species in the genus by the large yellow maculations that cover more than 50% of the elytral surface (Sloop 1937). These beetles are closely related to the so-called “fire beetles” of the genus Melanophila, the latter famous for their attraction to the smoldering and even still-burning wood of forest fires. However, Phaenops lack the large heat-sensing pores found on the metathorax of Melanophila and, thus, do not exhibit such behavior.

The photo above is not a true field photo, as I encountered the beetle on my beating sheet after whacking a dead pinyon pine branch. Rather than risking escape, I popped it into a vial for safekeeping and later that evening (when it was cooler) placed it on a pinyon twig for photographs. Even then it was still rather active, and the photo shown here is really the only decent photograph I obtained of the beetle. This turns out to be a rather significant photo, for as far as I can tell it is the only photograph of the species—live or dead—to be found on the internet!

REFERENCES:

Burke, H. 1908. A new buprestid enemy of Pinus edulisProceedings of the Entomological Society of Washington 9(1–4):117–118 [Google Books].

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 [pdf].

Sloop, K. D. 1937. A revision of the North American buprestid beetles belonging to the genus Melanophila (Coleoptera, Buprestidae). University of California Publications in Entomology 7(1):1–19.

© Ted C. MacRae 2014

I got Thomas Shahan to image my Chrysochroa corbetti!

Chrysochroa-corbetti-TwitterThose who follow me on Twitter know that I attended Entomology 2014 last month in Portland, Oregon. As with other scientific conferences, live tweeting of the talks and associated events was all the rage. I may not have been the most prolific “tweeter”, but I did do my share, and one of my tweets involved a rather spectacular preserved specimen of the jewel beetle, Chrysochroa corbetti. The quick iPhone snapshot attached to the tweet was sufficient to prove that the beetle is pure eye candy, but still it did not do full justice to its stunning beauty:

Fortunately, while I was at the meetings I ran into Thomas Shahan—already an icon among insect macrophotographers for his seemingly impossible portraits of jumping spiders, tiger beetles, and other insects. I had planned to spend a couple of days in Salem after the meetings to visit my friend and longtime buprestophile Rick Westcott. As it happens, Thomas is currently a Digital Imaging Specialist at the Oregon Department of Agriculture where Rick spent his entire career as an entomologist. When I showed my specimen to Thomas, he kindly agreed to make some focus-stacked images of the specimen using his lab’s photographic setup. I think you can now agree that this is one of the most spectacular jewel beetles around, and I think you’ll also agree that these images by Thomas are perhaps the most stunning of this oft-photographed species. Be sure to check out the last photo—a 10× close-up of the dorsal elytral detail at the interface between the green and blue areas. Simply stunning!

Chrysochroa (Chroodema) corbetti (Kerremans, 1893) | Thailand

Chrysochroa (Chroodema) corbetti (Kerremans, 1893) | Thailand

Chrysochroa corbetti lateral view

Chrysochroa corbetti lateral view

Chrysochroa corbetti ventral view

Chrysochroa corbetti ventral v

Chrysochroa corbetti dorsal elytral detail (10X)

Chrysochroa corbetti dorsal elytral detail (10X)

© Ted C. MacRae 2014

Guess who just turned 7?

Prionus heroicus | Harding Co., New Mexico

Prionus heroicus | Harding Co., New Mexico

No, not this very alarmed male Prionus heroicus (among North America’s largest longhorned beetles) seen this past June at Mills Rim Campground in northeastern New Mexico—although he could very well have spent several years underground as a ever-fatter grub feeding on tree roots (probably oaks) before emerging as an adult.

No, today is the 7th birthday of this blog, and I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I’d almost completely forgotten about it. To a human, seven years of age is still immaturity, but in blog years that’s getting close to old age—perhaps like it’s author! I guess old age (on both counts) qualifies me to reminisce a little bit. I’ve seen the blogging thing come—there was a time when it seemed everybody was blogging, and I’ve seen it mature into something a little different. People still blog, but not as many and not for the same reasons. In the early days, blogs were how people with common interests connected and interacted. Nowadays other social media (e.g., Twitter and Facebook) have usurped that role. I don’t think that has made blogs irrelevant, but rather they now seem to serve more for outreach and as searchable repositories for information (at least among natural history blogs). In the past I’ve vacillated greatly in my feelings about this (and I still do sort of miss the “good ol’ days” of lively conversations in the comments). But actually I’m okay with it. When I want my social fix I jump onto Facebook (or Twitter in certain circumstances). When I want to write a little more substantively—to recount memorable field trips, document interesting things I’ve learned, reflect on my experiences as an entomologist, etc.—I blog. I used to watch hit counts; now I hardly ever give them a thought. I care less about who is reading and how many of them there are than I do about the content of the writing and quality of the images I share with those who do choose to read. I am enjoying the fruits of having blogged consistently for seven years—able to write well (and fast), vastly more versed in natural history, and connected broadly to the larger entomological community—and that alone makes it worth continuing. I’ve learned to blog for me and not for what I think others want to see. How liberating! After 7 years, I am more comfortable with and motivated to write than ever.

To all those people who have followed me, either now or in the past, thank you for your part in helping me in this journey. To those who are still to come, I look forward to meeting you!

© Ted C. MacRae 2014

How to catch “bucket loads” of Prionus fissicornis!

Fresh off our unexpected success at finding Prionus integer in the shortgrass prairie of southeastern Colorado, field mate Jeff Huether and I made our way down into northeastern New Mexico to see if the prionic acid lures we used to attract that species would bring us success with other species of Prionus. Several species in this genus are known to occur in the Great Plains, and we had records of three from the area around Gladstone (Union Co.). Based on our experience from the previous day, we stopped at several sites that had sandy/loam soil and searched exposures along the roadsides for burrows that bore any resemblance to those that we had found associated with P. integer. Frustratingly, we saw no such burrows or evidence of the presence of Prionus beetles in any of the spots that we searched.

Eventually, with day’s end drawing near, we decided to play a hunch and set traps at two sites with soil exposures that seemed most similar to those seen the day before. As Jeff set the last pair of traps in place, I occupied myself photographing a dusty hognose snake (Heterodon nasicus gloydi). While photographing the animal, I happened to look down to my side, and what did I see but a male Prionus crawling through the vegetation! I recognized the species immediately as P. fissicornis—represented in my cabinet by a single specimen. This species is distinguished by the highly segmented antennae (up to 30 segments or more) that place it in the monotypic subgenus Prionus (Antennalia). I called out to Jeff, and for the next half an hour or so we scoured the surrounding area; however, our searches were in vain as we failed to find another individual.

Prionus fissicornis male

Prionus (Antennalia) fissicornis male | 24 June 2014, Union Co., New Mexico

We cast an eye towards the north and watched late afternoon thunderstorms roll across the expansive landscape. Rain is normally a downer on an insect collecting trip. However, considering the numbers of P. integer that came to the traps after rain the previous day, we actually found ourselves hoping that the skies would open up. Whether they would and if this would lead to success with P. fissicornis (or other Prionus species), however, would have to wait until the next morning when we returned to check the traps.

Thunderstorms over shortgrass prairie.

Thunderstorms over shortgrass prairie.

Around 10 a.m. the next morning our reward was revealed—traps brimming with P. fissicornis males! Each trap contained more than a dozen individuals, and males were still actively crawling around in the vicinity of the traps as well.

Prionic acid-bated traps w/ Prionus fissicornis males

Prionic acid-bated traps filled w/ Prionus fissicornis males.

Prionic acid-bated traps w/ Prionus fissicornis males

Each trap contained more than a dozen males.

We spent about an hour at the site determining the extent of their occurrence, and like P. integer the previous day the males were found almost exclusively in a small area adjacent to (and upwind from) the traps. As we searched, we also found a few females, one of which seemed to be in the act of ovipositing into the soil at the base of a plant. I carefully excavated the hole into which the ovipositor had been inserted once the female withdrew it, but I was unsuccessful in finding an egg. Perhaps she was only probing to search for a suitable oviposition site and did not find this one to her liking.

Prionus fissicornis female

Prionus (Antennalia) fissicornis female | 24 June 2014, Union Co., New Mexico

There are some interesting similarities and differences with this species compared to our experience with P. integer the previous day. Males of both were highly attracted to the prionic acid lures that we used and were effectively trapped in cans over which the lures were suspended. It is also interesting that both species were found in rather large numbers directly after a rain event, and it seems logical to presume that rain might trigger adult emergence—as is the case with many insects that inhabit dry habitats with seasonal rains. However, we did not find P. fissicornis adults associated with burrows as with P. integer, making me even more intrigued with the burrowing behavior in the latter and its possible function. Also, it is interesting that we found P. fissicornis adults most active during the morning hours and P. integer most active during early evening, but since we did not visit both localities at both times of day it is not possible to say for sure that the two species differ in their adult daily activity.

© Ted C. MacRae 2014