Botanizing (and entomologizing) w/ the WGNSS Botany Group at Little Lost Creek Conservation Area

March has been incredibly warm in the St. Louis area, particularly during the second half in which temperatures exceeded 80°F on seven of 12 days and 90°F twice! As one would expect, such unusually warm conditions played havoc with the first wave of early spring bloomers, particularly the conspicuously flowering understory trees that normally follow a predictable sequence of bloom beginning with Lindera benzoin (spicebush—family Lauraceae) in early to mid-March, Prunus mexicana/americana (Mexican/American plum—family Rosaceae) and Amelanchier arborea (common serviceberry—family Rosaceae) in mid- to late March, Sassafras albidum (sassafras —family Lauraceae) and Cercis canadensis (eastern redbud—family Fabaceae) in late March to early April, and — the zenith of native blooming understory trees — Cornus florida (flowering dogwood—family Cornaceae) in early to mid-April. Instead of a tightly choreographed sequence of mass blooms, we instead witnessed haphazard displays beginning earlier than normal and progressing sporadically throughout late March, with many trees knocked out of bloom by quite cold temperatures during several nights.

Nevertheless, it was not the disappointing displays of any of the above species that the group came to Little Lost Creek to see, but instead a much less commonly encountered understory tree with even less conspicuous blossoms—Dirca palustris (eastern leatherwood). One of only two Missouri representatives of the Family Thymelaeaceae, commonly called “stringbarks,” this species is found in scattered locations across the Missouri Ozarks and has been found reliably blooming in early April along Little Lost Creek.

WGNSS Botany Group at Little Lost Creek. Photo by Kathy Bildner.

To get to the low, moist areas where D. palustris grows, however, we needed to hike the two-track across the old fields and rather disturbed adjacent forests where some of the more typical spring-flowering trees were seen. Sassafras was perhaps the least impacted by the crazy spring temperature, with most trees reliably in bloom.

Sassafras albidum (sassafras). Photo by Ted MacRae.

Ever the entomologist, I couldn’t help examining some of the flowers more closely in search of insects, eventually finding the aptly-named Ischnomera ruficollis (red-necked false blister beetle—family Oedemeridae), a frequent visitor to a variety of flowers.

Photo 3. Ischnomera ruficollis (red-necked false blister beetle) on flowers of Sassafras albidum (sassafras). Photo by Ted MacRae.

The patch of American plum along the two-track that I have seen blooming profusely in years past and had hope to photograph was, disappointingly, well past bloom. However, a fine specimen that I take to be Mexican plum was found blooming profusely along a fence line nearer to the beginning of the two-track. Mexican and American plums can be difficult to distinguish, but the former usually grows as anindividual tree while the latter tends to form clonal thickets with multiple stems arising from a single parental plant.

Prunus mexicana (Mexican plum). Photo by Ted MacRae.

Serviceberry also should have been in bloom across the upland understory but was limited instead to just a few scattered trees still bearing flowers. One fine specimen, however, was found near the patch of American plum that was covered in near-perfect blossoms that simply begged to be photographed.

Amelanchier arborea (common serviceberry). Photo by Ted MacRae.

Veering into upland forests to approach the descent down into the valley, we saw some of the usual spring ephemerals and other plants that, despite not generally considered ephemerals, were nonetheless blooming quite early. Like the early-flowering trees, the spring ephemerals were impacted by the unusually warm March temperatures, with many of the species blooming far earlier than normal and now already fading despite the still-within-March date. Claytonia virginica (spring beauty—family Montiaceae, formerly Portulacaceae) is perhaps the best known ephemeral and, despite its commonness, is always a treat to see popping up in the woodlands after a long winter. The corolla color of this species is quite variable, with some being nearly white with barely perceptible venation, ranging to specimens with highly pronounced, vivid, pink venation.

Claytonia virginica (spring beauty). Photo by Ted MacRae.

Antennaria parlinii (Parlin’s pussytoes—family Asteraceae), normally an April/May bloomer, also was in flower in the relatively dry, rocky forests before the descent into the valley. Missouri populations of this species were previously known as A. plantaginifolia, means “leaves of Plantain” and indeed the basal leaves do look like those of the genus Plantago—a character that distinguishes them from the single-veined leaves of Missouri’s only other species in the genus, A. neglecta (field pussytoes).

Antennaria parlinii (Parlin’s pussytoes). Photo by Ted MacRae.

The descent into the valley is rather steep and precarious, especially for those of us who are “getting long in tooth” and needed to pick our way slowly down the rocky trail. The effort, however, was worth it as even before reaching the valley we began seeing leatherwood trees in bloom in the increasingly moist woodlands approaching the valley. The plants were, if anything, slightly past peak bloom, but not to the point that it made it difficult to find fresh examples of the instantly-recognizable flowers in clusters of 2–4 accompanying newly emerging leaves. More unusual than conspicuous with its small pendulous flowers surrounded by rusty woolly bracts, the species is distinguished from its even rarer congener, D. decipiens (upland leatherwood) by the small but discernible stalks and moist rather than upland habitat.

Dirca palustris (eastern leatherwood). Photo by Ted MacRae.

Several other botanical treasures awaited the group in the moist forests along Little Lost Creek besides leatherwood. One of these was very early blooming examples of Viola eriocarpa (smooth yellow violet—family Violaceae). This denizen of moist forests is often considered a smooth-leaved variety of V. pubescens (yellow violet) or even a synonym, and indeed the degree of “pubescentness” can be variable, making it sometimes difficult to distinguish a given plant.

Viola eriocarpa (smooth yellow violet). Photo by Kathy Bildner.

Another deep, moist, rich woods resident the group saw was the always-charming-to-see Collinsia verna (spring blue-eyed Mary—family Plantaginaceae). Unusually, this bona fide spring ephemeral is one of the few Missouri wildflowers that is truly “blue.” Equally unusual, its distribution is mainly in the Upper Midwest but in Missouri is apparently concentrated across the middle latitudes of the state.

Collinsia verna (spring blue-eyed Mary). Photo by Kathy Bildner.

[Warning: entomological geekery ahead!]

I, myself, missed these botanical finds due to my discovery immediately upon reaching the valley of a large oak tree with a dark, wet stain of flowing sap on its trunk that was hosting a variety of insects (remember; it is still March here—not normally a time to observe insects). Numerous muscoid flies, expectedly, congregated at the flow and lapped up the sap, as did a couple of brightly colored Vanessa atalanta (red admiral butterfly—family Nymphalidae). These fast-flying butterflies overwinter as adults and, thus, were ready to take advantage of the sudden warming spell. They also could have been difficult to photograph had their sweet tooth not enticed them to pose nicely on the dark, sap-saturated bark.

Vanessa atalanta (red admiral butterfly). Photo by Ted MacRae.

A closer look at the many insects congregating on the flow revealed the presence of two fireflies that proved to be Ellychnia corrusca (known as Photinus corruscus in some sources, e.g. iNaturalist) (winter firefly—family Lampyridae). Honestly, I didn’t recall ever having seen fireflies feeding on a sap flow, or for that matter any that were active in March—muggy summer nights are what I picture when I think of fireflies! The common name of this species, however, alludes to the fact that it can often be seen during warm days in winter, especially on tree trunks. Moreover, not only do adults become active in late winter, they mate at that time as well. The fact that these individuals were seen feeding on a sap flow is also unsurprising given that the species has been reported as a pest of sap buckets in the spring. There was one more surprise, however—as I was photographing the beetles, I noticed their all-dark abdomens, suggested they lack light-producing organs. This is surprisingly common among several groups of fireflies which have given up a crepuscular (i.e. active during dusk and/or dawn), luminescent lifestyle in favor of a diurnal (i.e., day active), non-luminescent existence. (We know that non- luminescent firefly species evolved from luminescent species—i.e., they used to be able to produce light and then lost the ability—rather than representing a lineage that evolved before other fireflies gained luminescent capabilities because their larvae do still posses light-producing organs.) Why did they do this? One possibility is the appearance of “femme fatale fireflies”—i.e., females of the genus Photuris that can that mimic the flash patterns of females in the genus Photinus to attract and eat Photinus males!

Ellychnia corrusca (winter firefly). Photo by Ted MacRae.

Non-luminescence as an antipredation strategy may be a good solution for femme fatales, but leading a diurnal existence still does not eliminate the risk of predation by other insects! One of the fireflies we saw on the sap flow had been attacked by a stink bug (family Pentatomidae) that came to the sap flow not for the sugary substance, but to prey on the other insects that it had attracted. For those of you who are asking “Aren’t stink bugs plant feeders?”, the answer is… mostly! While the majority of species use their piercing/sucking mouthparts to feed on developing seeds and fruits, there is one group of stinkbugs (the subfamily Asopinae) that has adapted its style of feeding to sucking the juices out of other insects rather than plants. This particular stinkbug was identified as Podisus maculiventris (spined soldier bug), and no amount of struggling by the firefly could release it from the stink bug, whose mouthparts had firmly impaled the firefly. Despite being predators, asopine stink bugs still lack chewing mouthparts and can only ingest liquid substances. This might be fine for sucking a juicy seed, but it falls short when trying to ingest another insect… unless it can digest the insect before it consumes it! This is called pre- or extra-oral digestion, whereby the stink bug injects its digestive enzyme-laden saliva into the prey and allows the enzymes to slowly liquify its innards. Once digested, the stink bug can then suck up thenutritious slurry, leaving only the shriveled external carcass of its hapless prey. Another such stink bug was seen elsewhere in the forest, this one preying on a fat, juicy caterpillar.

Podisus maculiventris (spined soldier bug) preying on Ellychnia corrusca (winter firefly). Photo by Ted MacRae.

For lunch, a smaller than usual crowd enjoyed authentic comida mexicana at Casa Tequila Cantina in nearby Warrenton.

For a complete listing of plants observed, notes, and short observations, see Little Lost Creek by Michael Laschober in the Monday Morning Botany Walks section at St. Louis Nature Students.

Participants: Brenda Adams, Gisela Baner, Prem Barton, Renee Benage, Kathy Bildner, Tina Cheung, Wayne Clark, Sally Fabbri, June Jeffries, Shari Langer, Michael Laschober, Ted MacRae, Len Meier, Burt Noll, John Oliver, David Steinmeyer, Kathy Thiele, Elaine Wolshock, Matthew Wolshock, Richard Wolshock, and Laura Yates.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2026

Best of BitB 2012

Welcome to the 5th Annual “Best of BitB”, where I pick my favorite photographs from the past year. 2012 was one of the most intensive travel years I’ve ever had—I spent 8 weeks in Argentina from February through April, made separate trips to Puerto Rico and Arkansas in May (bracketing a personal week in California), traveled almost weekly to Illinois and Tennessee from June to September (interrupted by a personal week in Florida in July), toured the southeastern U.S. (Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi and Georgia—great food!) in early September, chased tiger beetles in Oklahoma, Texas and Arkansas in late September, went back to Argentina for a week in October, and capped off the travel year by attending the Entomological Society of America Annual Meetings in Knoxville, Tennessee (for the first time in more than 10 years!)—whew! While many would cringe at such a travel load, I am among the lucky few who actually get paid for doing something that is also my hobby—entomology! This gives me ample opportunity to further hone my photography skills (nine of the 13 photos I’ve selected below were actually taken while I was on business travel), resulting in two key accomplishments this year—my first ever photography talk at the ESA’s insect photography symposium and my first commercial sales (look for the BitB commercial site to go online in 2013).

Enough blather! Here are my favorite BitB photographs from 2012. Click the link in the text below the photo to see the original post. I would greatly appreciate knowing if you have a favorite (and why)—your feedback will be enormously helpful to me as I continue to learn and develop as a photographer.  For those interested, here are my previous year picks for 2008, 2009, 2010 and 2011. And, as always, thank you for your readership!


Spintherophyta (?) sp. in flower of Abutilon pauciflorum | Buenos Aires, Argentina

From  (posted 2 Feb). One of my 2012 learnings was that sometimes a photograph that is not so close is more effective than one that is as close as possible. In one of my earlier attempts at “not-so-close” macrophotgraphy, the soft colors of the flower compliment the brash shininess of the tiny leaf beetle that has been feeding on its pollen. Pink lines lead the eye directly to the subject and create a pleasing composition, and pollen grains stuck to the beetle—a distraction in some situations—add to the miniature natural history story of the photo.


Apiomerus flavipennis with stink bug prey and kleptoparasitic flies | Chaco Province, Argentina

From  (posted 11 Mar). I selected this photo solely for the complex natural history story drama it shows—stink bug (Piezodorus guildenii) feeding on soybean becomes prey of an assassin bug (Apiomerus flavipennis), with volatiles from the chemicals it emitted in a vain attempt to defend itself serving as cues to kleptoparasitic flies (families Milichiidae and Chloropidae) that benefit from the assassin bug’s labors.


Planthopper nymph | Buenos Aires Province, Argentina

From  (posted 26 Mar). Another learning that I began putting into practice in 2012 was the use of low perspective for compositional impact. The cryptic coloration of this planthopper nymph (family Fulgoridae) made it almost invisible on the branch on which it was sitting when viewed from a normal “top-down” human perspective. Getting “down under” it, however, brought the nymph to life and emphasized its unusual form.


Megabaris quadriguttatus | Corrientes Province, Argentina

From  (posted 12 Apr). I spent much of 2012 working on the “blue sky background” technique, with these weevils from northern Argentina representing one of my better attempts. Macrophotography of insects with a blue sky background involves setting exposure, ISO, and aperture to achieve two separate exposures—full flash illumination of the subject for maximum depth-of-field, and ambient light from the sky to create a clean, uncluttered, natural-looking background. In this shot I managed to achieve an almost ideal shade of blue to compliment the wild black, white and red colors of the beetles. (My one criticism of the photo is having clipped one of the beetle’s feet.)


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

From  (posted 16 May). This photo is unusual if nothing else. Focus, lighting, depth-of-field, and composition are all better than can be hoped for in a single shot, but the subject—perfectly alive—is in a most unusual position. Read the original post to find out how this happened.


Perisphaerus sp. (a pill roach) | Vietnam (captive individual)

From  (posted 27 May). White-box photography is an excellent technique for clean, uncluttered photographs of insects, but it also isolates them from their natural surroundings and limits their natural history appeal. The best white-box photos are those that highlight a key feature or behavior of the subject—in this case a pill roach’s comically conglobulating defensive posture.


Micronaspis floridana (Florida intertidal firefly) larva | Pinellas Co., Florida

From  (posted 31 July). Here is another photo whose back story played a big part in its selection. This firefly larva not only represents a rare Florida-endemic species but was also first seen by my then 12-year old nephew, who willingly accompanied me through a dark, spooky salt marsh in the middle of a humid Florida night to see what he could learn. The lesson here for budding natural historians (and old-timers like me) cannot be overstated!


Arctosa littoralis (beach wolf spider) | Lewis Co., Missouri

From  (posted 23 Aug—prelude to  posted 28 Aug). Those who follow this blog know of my obsession with close-up portraits, and while tiger beetles are the subjects I most commonly photograph in this manner, I am always on the lookout for good subjects in other taxa. This wolf spider “face” almost looks human, with “two” eyes, two “nostrils” and a shiny upper lip above huge (albeit hairy) buck teeth! It’s enough fill-the-frame spidery goodness to melt (or explode) the heart of even the most ardent arachnophobe!


Anticarsia gemmatalis (velvetbean caterpillar) egg on soybean leaf

From Life at 8X—Guide to lepidopteran eggs on soybean (posted 3 Sep). “Life at 8X” was a new series I introduced this year, featuring insects photographed at magnifications testing the upper limit of my equipment and photographic skills. Diffraction is the chief difficulty with magnifications as high as this and is the primary flaw in the above photograph. Nevertheless, such view of a moth egg on the underside of a soybean leaf provides a spectacular view of the otherwise unseen micro-world that lives right beneath our noses.


Megacyllene decora (amorpha borer) on snakeroot flowers | Mississippi Co., Missouri

From  (posted 12 Sep). This second example of “blue sky background” was taken later in the year and was considerably more difficult to capture than the first because of the larger size of the subject and resulting need for a longer focal length macro lens. Getting a well-lit, focused, and composed image with a desirable shade of blue in the background depended not only on finding the proper camera settings, but also secure body and camera bracing techniques for this completely hand-held shot.


Cicindelidia politula politula (Limestone Tiger Beetle) | Montague Co., Texas

From  (posted 28 Sep). I will go ahead and say it—this is my favorite photograph of 2012. As discussed under the first entry, panning back from the subject can allow for some very interesting compositions. This photo combines charismatic pose by a wary subject with panning back and low perspective to create an image that scores high in both natural history and aesthetic appeal.


Calosoma sayi (black caterpillar hunter) | New Madrid Co., Missouri

From Black is beautiful! (posted 7 Nov). Of course, close-as-possible can also be used to create striking photos, especially if the subject exhibits features that are best seen up close. Anything with jaws fits the bill in my book, and highlighting the mandibular sculpturing of this caterpillar hunter (a type of ground beetle) required precise angling of the flash heads for maximum effect.


Cicindela repanda (Bronze Tiger Beetle) | St. Louis Co., Missouri

From  (12 Nov). This final selection is not a rare species, but it is as close as I have come to what I consider the “perfect” tiger beetle macrophotograph—a close, low angle, lateral profile of an adult in full-stilt posture (a thermoregulatory behavior), well lit, perfectly focused, and with a dynamic but pleasingly blurred background. It’s a perfect storm of a photo that took the better part of two hours to achieve—rarely do all of these elements come together in a hand-held photograph of an unconfined tiger beetle in its native habitat.


Well, there you have it. I hope you’ve enjoyed my selections, and again please do let me know if you have a personal favorite. See you in 2013!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Even a 12-year old can discover the larva of a rare, endemic species!

Since discovering the larva of the rare, endemic Florida metallic tiger beetle (Tetracha floridana) in the small, intertidal mangrove marsh behind my sister-in-law’s condominium in Seminole, Florida three years ago, I’ve looked forward to subsequent visits to see the adults (they’re nocturnal) and gather additional material needed to write the larval description. I had to wait a few days on this year’s trip due to rain (it is Florida, after all), but eventually a dry evening came along and I began “suiting up” for my nighttime foray. Much to my delight, my 12-year old nephew Jack wanted to come with me. Jack had never been in the field with me before, but according to his mom he has become quite interested of late in science and biology. My daughter Maddie, also 12 years old (and a veteran of many trips to the field with me), also wanted to go, so together the three of us slathered on the insect repellent and headed into the dark towards the marsh.

Larva of Micronaspis floridana (Florida intertidal firefly) | Pinellas Co., Florida

We had only my headlamp as a light source, so the kids trailed behind me as I picked a line through the brush, across a small creek, and onto a ridge that snakes through the marsh that marked one of the areas where I had seen good numbers of the beetles last year. We collected a small number to keep alive and place in a terrarium of native soil, the hope being that they would lay eggs so I could obtain some 1st-instar larvae for the formal description, but what I was really looking for were larval burrows. As we (well, I) searched the ground in front of me with the lamp and the kids trailed behind me in the dark, Jack suddenly stopped and said, “What’s that?” I shone my light to where he was pointing but didn’t see anything and so resumed my search. Right away he said, “There it is again.” I asked if it was a rabbit (we’d seen them at the edge of the marsh during the day), and he said, “No, it’s like a light or something.” I turned off the lamp, and gradually the faint, green glow reappeared. I recognized the source of the light instantly as that of a larval firefly, although truthfully I have never actually seen an actual firefly larva. Seeing a great teaching moment for the kids, we walked to the light, knelt down, and shone the lamp directly on the ground from where the light was coming to find the small (~10 mm long) larva moving slowly through the moist, algae-covered rocks. It had the classic, retractable firefly head and curiously quadruply-spined tergites. I congratulated Jack on finding the larva, emphasizing that I would have never seen it myself had he not been there and been so observant despite not having a lamp.

Larvae of this species exhibit the retractable head characteristic of firefly larvae.

I went back a few nights later by myself so I could concentrate on photographing some of the things we saw in the marsh the previous night, including the firefly larva. I had no problem relocating one in the same place we found it before (I just turned off my headlamp and waited for the green glow). I’m generally not keen on posting photographs of unidentified insects (just me, but I find photos much more interesting when accompanied by the natural history back story), and I was sure this larva would remain unidentified (I have little knowledge of adult fireflies, much less their larvae). This seemed even more likely after perusing the few identified and many unidentified firefly larvae photographs on BugGuide and finding nothing even remotely similar. I was about to give up when I decided to try the search term “Lampyridae Florida Pinellas” (“Pinellas” being the county where we found the larvae—my thinking being that maybe there was a Florida firefly checklist that could narrow down to the county level the possible species), and high in the results was a page titled Florida intertidal firefly (fiddler crab firefly). On that page was a photo of the larva, although not nearly large and detailed enough to be sure it was the same, but still in my mind almost surely this species because of the stated restricted habitat—intertidal zone of Florida coastal salt marshes! I sent these photographs to lampyroid aficionado Joe Cicero, who kindly confirmed my identification. 

Restricted to intertidal marshes in coastal Florida.

Because it occurs only at the edges of salt water marshes around the peninsular coast of Florida, M. floridana is a classic example of shoestring geographic isolation and, thus, serves as a good model for studies of genetic isolation and its impact on speciation (Lloyd 2001). Along with T. floridana, it now makes at least two rare, Florida-endemics occurring in the small private, preserve behind my sister-in-law’s condominium (both of which were first found as larvae rather than adults). Although the larva of M. floridana is already known—albeit by a rough black and white photograph (McDermott 1954)—it’s rarity and restricted habitat nonetheless make it an exciting find well deserving of the more detailed color photographs shown here. However, as I told Jack after receiving confirmation of its identity, he gets full credit for the discovery. I took him into the field with me with the intention of showing him some new things, and he turned the tables on me! Yes, even a 12-year old can discover the larva of a rare, endemic species!

REFERENCES:

Lloyd, J. E. 2001. On research and entomological education V: a species concept for fireflyers, at the bench and in old fields, and back to the Wisconsian Glacier. Florida Entomologist 84(4):587–601.

McDermott, F. A. 1954. The larva of Micronaspis floridana Green. The Coleopterists Bulletin 8(3/4):59–62.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

The backwards firefly

Aspisoma sp. | Buenos Aires Province, Argentina

The beetle in these photos was another “gift” from my colleagues in Fontezuela, Argentina—brought to me shortly after I found the first gift on my desk during my first week at the station. This is obviously a firefly, but I also recognized it as the same species as (or very close to) one I had photographed in a soybean field during last year’s March visit. I only got off one shot of the one in the soybean field before it took flight, so here are some better views of the species—enhanced by the cleanliness inside the pearly white confines of a styrofoam cooler.

A little closer...

My attempts to identify the species last year were fruitless (though admittedly cursory). This year I tried a different tact—I went to the website Lampyridae de Argentina (which is really just a list of species based on Blackwelder’s Neotropical beetles checklist) and did a Google image search on each genus in the list (combined with the term “Lampyridae”) until I encountered something that looked pretty close in the genus Aspisoma (tribe Photinini) in the Lampyridae photo gallery at PyBio.org (Paraguay Biodiversidad). The page contains excellent dorsal habitat photographs of a number of species in the genus; however, unfortunately the majority of them are labeled simply as Aspisoma sp. (it should not be surprising that the state of lampyrid taxonomy in South America is still far from complete). The individual shown here is a dead ringer for Aspisoma sp. #8, but spp. #51, 52, and 53 cannot be discounted. I sent the photos to cantharoid beetle expert Santiago Zaragosa Caballero, who confirmed the species appeared to be a member of the genus Aspisoma but admitted to not knowing the South American fauna well enough to offer a species ID. Nevertheless, a genus ID is better than nothing, and my thanks to Santiago for his confirmatory ID.

...and finally, the requisite ''face'' shot.

It’s no secret that I love face shots! The above photo, however, was the best I could do for this species due to its highly explanate (flanged) pronotal hood and the typical firefly habit of hunkering down and using their flange to protect their softer underparts when feeling threatened. I call this the “backwards” firefly because everything about it seems opposite to my concept of fireflies in eastern North America—yellow with black markings instead of black with yellow markings and active during the day instead of at night, which I most easily ascribe to its occurrence opposite to the Northern Hemisphere! (wink)

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Bichos Argentinos #11 – I’m out’a here!

Neither of these photos are very good, but it’s the firefly’s fault.  I saw it last month in a soybean field in Buenos Aires Province, Argentina. I got off the first shot, but the flash disturbed it and it started walking around. I quickly set up for another shot, got it framed, fired the shot, and saw the second photo on the screen!

Everything about this firefly seems backwards – most fireflies are black with yellow, orange or red markings – this one is yellow with small black markings.  The terminal segments of the abdomen are dark while the rest are light – opposite of most other fireflies.  This one was out and about during the day, while most others are crepuscular or nocturnal.  Maybe it’s a result of being in the Southern Hemisphere – opposite of most other fireflies I’ve seen.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011