North America’s largest robber fly

September 17, 2009July 22, 2013 / Ted C. MacRae / 20 Comments

Female Microstylum morosum perched on fragrant sumac (Rhus aromatica)

A few days ago, I featured Promachus hinei, one of the so-called “giant robber flies” and a common inhabitant of the glades and grasslands that dot Missouri’s largely forested landscape. That individual was seen at Long Bald Glade Natural Area in Caney Mountain Conservation Area, one of the many limestone glades that are a prominent feature of extreme southwestern Missouri’s White River Hills, as it snacked on a small carpenter bee (Ceratina sp.) and posed obligingly for a series of super close-up photographs. Promachus and its congeners are impressively large; however, I would see an even larger robber fly that day. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I knew that never before had I seen such a magnificent fly, with its large, shimmering, emerald eyes, streamlined body almost devoid of setae (hairs), and ludicrously large size. These monsters were actually quite common at the glade, so I failed to appreciate the significance of what I was seeing as I chased one after another – more intent on securing photographs than specimens. This was not an easy task – they were extremely wary, rarely allowing me to approach within 12 feet no matter how cautiously and slowly I moved. Not one to back down from such a challenge (remember, I stalk tiger beetles), I persisted, traversing the rough, rock-strewn terrain amidst clumps of big bluestem (Andropogon gerardii), Indian grass (Sorghastrum nutans), and fragrant sumac (Rhus aromatica) until, at last, I got within striking distance of the impressive female shown in these photos. Taking flight before I felt assured of a good shot, I followed her repeated long, loping escape flights until I was able to get another few shots and she disappeared for good.

Same individual as in previous photo after flying to another perch.

It didn’t take long after I returned home to figure out what I had seen, as there is really nothing that can be mistaken for Microstylum morosum, North America’s largest robber fly (Back 1909)¹. At 35–40 mm of length, this individual didn’t quite match the astounding 50-mm upper body length for the species (that’s 2 inches, folks!). Nonetheless, it was an impressive beast indeed! It is not surprising that North America’s largest robber fly should be a species of Microstylum, as it is this same genus that contains the world’s largest robber fly – the aptly named M. magnum from Madagascar, with a body length of 60 mm and an almost preposterous wingspan of up to 84 mm (that’s over 3 inches folks!). I don’t know if any flies exist that are larger than this, but certainly none can be more imposing. While I’m happy with the photos that I did obtain, I must confess some disappointment that I wasn’t able to get more than these basic lateral profile shots. Of the several photographs of this species that can be found on the web, this female, photographed by Greg Lavaty of Houston, Texas, is (in my humble opinion) certainly the most stunning.

¹ Puzzled by the use of the prefix “micro” in the genus name – hardly seeming appropriate for such an enormous fly – I asked Eric Fisher (retired, California Department of Food and Agriculture) about the name’s derivation, to which he replied, “The name refers to the quite small ‘stylus’ of the antenna apex; Macquart specifically mentions this character in his 1838 original description of the genus. (This is not a very helpful diagnostic character, as many asilids share this feature…).”

Even more significant than its size, however, was its very occurrence on this glade. Like Ospriocerus abdominalis, which I had seen just a few weeks earlier in the Loess Hills of extreme northwestern Missouri, M. morosum is a denizen of the Great Plains, and also like that species it has until now not been known from Missouri. That’s right – another new state record! Unlike O. abdominalis, however, the Missouri occurrence of M. morosus represents a significant northeastern extension of its known range. The species was long considered a Texas endemic until Beckemeyer and Charlton (2000) confirmed its occurrence in southeastern Arizona and documented significant range extensions into Oklahoma, Kansas, extreme southeastern Colorado, and extreme northeastern New Mexico. Its eastern distributional limit was thought to occur along a north-south line from Douglas County, Kansas to Mayes County, Oklahoma to Brazoria County, Texas; however, Warriner (2004) documented its occurrence some 200 miles east of this line in the blackland prairies of southwestern Arkansas. The occurrence of M. morosum in the White River Hills of Missouri represents yet another significant eastern extension of its known range – Long Bald Glade lies 185 miles NNE of the collection site in Arkansas and 155 miles ENE of the nearest known record in Mayes County, Oklahoma (Locust Grove), making it the easternmost known locality for this species.

As in Arkansas, where the collection site represents one of the highest quality blackland prairie remants in the state, Long Bald Glade represents a high quality remnant of the limestone glades that once occurrred much more extensively within Missouri’s White River Hills. Like the blackland prairie of Arkansas, the limestone glades of the White River Hills have been dramatically reduced since EuroAmerican settlement due to land use conversion, and fire suppression and overgrazing of the remaining tracts have resulted in significant woody encroachment – chiefly by eastern red-cedar (Juniperus virginiana) – and loss of vegetational diversity. This has caused dramatic reductions in populations of the many Great Plains plant and animal species that are found here and nowhere else in the state. Considering the overall distribution of M. morosum, it is unlikely that it occurs more extensively within Missouri than the White River Hills, emphasizing the importance of continued conservation and restoration activities in this unique part of Missouri. However, since the White River Hills extend into northwestern Arkansas, M. morosum may occur in that part of Arkansas as well as the southwestern part of the state.

I thank Eric Fisher and Herschel Raney for confirming the identity of this species and its status as a new record for Missouri.

Photo details: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D (manual mode), ISO-100, 1/250 sec, f/10-11, MT-24EX flash 1/2 power through diffuser caps.

REFERENCES:

Back, E. A. 1909. The robberflies of America, north of Mexico, belonging to the subfamilies Leptograstrinae and Dasypogoninae. Transactions of the American Entomological Society 35:137–400.

Beckemeyer, R. J. and R. E. Carlton. 2000. Distribution of Microstylum morosum and M. galactoides (Diptera: Asilidae): significant extensions to previously reported ranges. Entomological News 111(2):84–96.

Warriner, M. D. 2004. First Arkansas record of the robber fly Microstylum morosum (Diptera: Asilidae). The Southwestern Naturalist 49(1):83–84.

Prey bee mine

September 14, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 12 Comments

Promachus hinei preying upon a small carpenter bee

Robber flies of the genus Promachus – the so-called “giant robber flies” – are among the more conspicuous and fearless predators seen in Missouri’s glades. Able to capture almost any flying insect regardless of size, this individual – seen at Long Bald Glade Natural Area in Caney Mountain Conservation Area – was found snacking on what, according to my hymenopterist friend Mike Arduser, appears to be a female individual of the genus Ceratina (the so-called small carpenter bees in the family Apidae). Of the three “tiger-striped” (referring to the yellow and black striping of the abdomen) species of Promachus in the eastern U.S. species, P. hinei is the most common in Missouri. It is distinguished from the more southeastern P. rufipes by its reddish versus black femora and from the more northern P. vertebratus by the larger dark areas dorsally on the abdominal segments and distinctly contrasting two-toned legs. Despite their common name and impressive size, however, they are not the largest robber flies that can be seen in these glades…

Photo details: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D (manual mode), ISO-100, 1/250 sec, f/13, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power through diffuser caps.

Ospriocerus abdominalis

August 18, 2009July 22, 2013 / Ted C. MacRae / 18 Comments

Photo details: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/14, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power w/ diffuser caps.

My dipteran digression continues with this photograph of the robber fly, Ospriocerus abdominalis (Diptera: Asilidae). More than just a pretty picture, this represents yet another apparently new state record that I and my colleague Chris Brown discovered a few weeks ago during our 2-day survey of Missouri’s critically imperiled hilltop prairies in the extreme northwest corner of the state. Like the previously discussed Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle) and Beameria venosa (a prairie-obligate species of cicada), O. abdominalis has not previously been recorded further east than Nebraska, Kansas, Oklahoma and Texas. This large fly is a grassland denizen that ranges over western North America and into Mexico (Cannings 1998, as Ospriocerus aeacus). It is somewhat suggestive of a mydas fly, although its short antennae immediately identify it as a robber fly (mydas flies have elongate clubbed antennae). It also reminds me of the magnificent western robber fly Wyliea mydas by its mimetic, wasp-like coloration – presumably modeled after spider wasps of the genus Pepsis and Hemipepsis (Hymenoptera: Pompilidae) – but is distinguished by its black body and wings with red dorsal coloration on the abdomen (W. mydas has the abdomen wholly black and the wings red). While not quite as handsome as W. mydas, it is impressive nonetheless.

The dry hilltop prairie remnants in which O. abdominalis, B. venosa, and C. celeripes were found are associated with the Loess Hills, a unique landform along the western edge of Iowa that reaches its southern terminus in extreme northwest Missouri. Due to their extreme rarity and vulnerability to woody encroachment and anthropogenic degradation, these remnant habitats are considered one of Missouri’s most critically imperiled natural communities. Only about 50 acres of original habitat remain, and of this only half is in public conservation ownership. Many of the plants and animals found in these habitats represent hypsithermal relicts that migrated eastward during a dry and warm period after the last ice age and were then “left behind” in pockets of relictual habitat as a return to cooler, wetter conditions forced the main populations back to the west. More than a dozen plants and two vertebrates occurring in these prairies are listed as species of conservation concern. As is typically the case, the flora and vertebrate fauna of these remnant habitats have been fairly well characterized, while precious little attention has been given to the vastly more diverse invertebrate fauna. As we begin to study the insects of these habitats more carefully, we are almost sure to find a great many species that are more typically found further to the west and that live nowhere else in Missouri. Their continued presence in the state will be wholly dependent upon the critically imperiled habitats in which they live, making conservation and restoration of the remaining loess hilltop prairie remnants in Missouri all the more important.

My thanks to Eric Fisher and Herschel Raney for confirming the identity of O. abdominalis.

REFERENCES:

Cannings, R. A. 1998. Robber Flies (Insecta: Diptera: Asilidae), in Smith, I. M., and G. G. E. Scudder, eds. Assessment of species diversity in the Montane Cordillera Ecozone. Burlington: Ecological Monitoring and Assessment Network.

Overlooked, needle-tailed, thick-headed fly

August 14, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 10 Comments

Photo details: Canon 100mm macro lens on Canon EOS 50D, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/16, MT-24EX flash 1/4 power w/ diffuser caps.

While photographing the rare Typocerus deceptus on flowers of wild hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescens) at Trail of Tears State Park in southeast Missouri last June, I encountered this strange fly also visiting the hydrangea blossoms. At first I thought it was some weird type of syrphid fly, but it turns out to be a member of an even more unusual group of flies in the appropriately-named genus Stylogaster¹. Although classified in the family Conopidae (thick-headed flies), members of this genus are placed in their own subfamily (Stylogastrinae) due to their unusual morphology and biology (obligate parasites of crickets, cockroaches and calyptrate flies). Ninty-two described species are currently placed in the genus, only two of which occur in North America (the remainder are found chiefly in the Neotropics and in sub-Saharan Africa and southeast Asia). This individual appears to be a female S. neglecta because of its short 2nd antennomere (antennal segment) and highly elongate 3rd antennomere (in S. biannulata, the 2nd antennomere is almost as long as the 3rd). Thus, the “overlooked, needle-tailed, thick-headed fly” – and who said common names are easier?

¹ Derived from the Latin stilus (needle) and the Greek γαστηρ (belly, stomach), a reference to the highly elongated female abdomen, or “tail.”

Morphologically, stylogastrines are distinguished from other conopids by their eggs, which feature a rigid barbed tip. This, along with some behavioral observations, seems to imply a shooting oviposition technique; however, morphological evidence suggests that the eggs are forcibly jabbed into their hosts (Kotrba 1997). The larvae hatch and develop inside their host as internal parasites, but other than the egg very little is known about the life histories of species in this genus (Couri and Pont 2006). Adults are further distinguished by their long proboscis, which exceeds the length of the body when fully extended and is used to access nectar within a variety of flowers. Adult females aggressively intercept hosts in-flight for oviposition, and speculation has been made that they are obligate associates of army ants (New World subfamily Ecitoninae and Old World subfamily Dorylinae), relying upon the ants’ raiding columns to flush out their prey. However, since the genus also occurs in Madagascar and parts of Africa where army ants are completely absent, it is clear that at least some species of Stylogaster have no obligatory association with these ants (Stuckenberg 1963, Couri and Pont 2006).

REFERENCES:

Couri, M. S. and A. C. Pont. 2006. Eggs of Stylogaster Macquart (Diptera: Conopidae) on Madagascan Muscids (Diptera: Muscidae). Proceedings of the California Academy of Science 57(16):473-478.

Kotrba, M. 1997. Shoot or stab? Morphological evidence on the unresolved oviposition techique in Stylogaster Macquart (Diptera: Conopidae), including discussion of behavioral observations. Proceedings of the Entomological Society of Washington 99:613-621.

Stuckenberg, B. R. 1963. A study on the biology of the genus Stylogaster, with the description of a new species from Madagascar. Revue de Zoologie et Botaniques Africaines 68:251-275.

Newly emerged rabbit bot fly

May 8, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 15 Comments

First things first – congratulations to Mark Deering (Sophia Sachs Butterfly House, right here in St. Louis) and Rod Rood (Washington State University) for correctly identifying yesterday’s “What the heck?” as the cast puparium of an oestrid bot fly. Mark eventually staked his claim on the genus Cuterebra, and Rod as well included this genus in his short list. They are more astute naturalists than I – had I not found the newly emerged adult right next to it, I doubt that I would have known or figured out what it was. Thanks also to the many other people who played the game – most were united in thinking it was some kind of insect, with many noting its distinctly abdominal appearance. It seems, at least among my readers, that shed insect cuticle is a more popular quiz subject than plants.

I encountered this individual on open sandy ground while searching for my beloved southeastern Missouri festive tiger beetles. When I first saw the adult, it was on its back on the ground, feebly waving a couple of legs in the air. I at first thought it was some kind of clumsy beetle but realized what it was as I approached it. Clearly the fly was in distress, and I thought it odd that the puparium was laying on the ground next to it. Bot flies in the genus Cuterebra have among the most deliciously gruesome of all insect life histories. The ultra short-lived adults (lacking even functional mouthparts) lay their eggs near rodent and lagomorph burrow entrances, with the different species showing a fair degree of host specificity (Catts 1982). When the fly larva hatches, it migrates to the host and enters the animal’s body through a natural orifice or break in the skin. It then finds a subcutaneous location to feed, creating a cyst-like structure within a swelling of subcutaneous tissue and with a hole at the skin surface to allow respiration. Once mature, the larva exits and drops from the host and burrows into the ground for pupation. We could find no emergence hole nearby, so perhaps the puparium was exposed by rain prior to emerging and suffered some desiccation, or perhaps the adult had gotten stuck in the tough puparium and pulled it to the surface as it emerged – burning its limited energy reserves in the process. At any rate, it is rather unusual to find these things emerging with the pupal case.

Cuterebra spp. are known collectively as New World skin bot flies (formerly family Cuterebridae, but now classified as a subfamily of Oestridae). I suspected this was the rabbit bot fly (C. buccata) due to its general appearance – notably the red bands in the eyes, which is a characteristic of rabbit-infesting species. However, the genus is diverse, with 34 recognized North American species – seven of which belong to the rabbit-infesting group (Sabrosky 1986). I don’t have a copy of Sabrosky’s revision, and my efforts to locate it electronically turned up only retail listings for $70 or more. That’s serious coin for someone who really needs to stay focused on his beetles, so I sent these photographs to bot fly specialist Jeff Boettner at the University of Massachusetts. Jeff confirmed that it is indeed a Cuterebra rabbit bot and will confirm a species identity after checking his collection.

Jeff also sent the following note and interesting link:

Speaking of red eyed bots…there is one on Bugguide that a woman from NM posted. It is Cuterebra mirabilis and it may be the rarest photo on BugGuide. It’s only known from 2 previous specimens (also from NM). Its the largest of the rabbit bots. Much darker than yours.

Jeff notes that “mirabilis” in Latin means “extraordinary” – a truly appropriate name for this beautiful insect. Even though I am a devout coleopterist, I must confess – cuterebrids rock!

REFERENCES:

Catts, E. P. 1982. Biology of New World bot flies: Cuterebridae. Annual Review of Entomology 27:313-338.

Sabrosky, C. W. 1986. North American species of Cuterebra, the rabbit and rodent bot flies (Diptera: Cuterebridae). Entomological Society of America Thomas Say Foundation Monograph, College Park, Maryland, 240 pp.

Wednesday “What the heck?”

May 6, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 39 Comments

This might be the hardest nature quiz ever – I don’t think I would’ve ever figured out what this was had I not found what I did next to it. I found it on my recent trip to look for Cicindela scutellaris (festive tiger beetle) in southeastern Missouri. Of course, now knowing what it is, the image does seem to provide enough clues about its identity – perhaps some crack naturalist will figure it out.

I’ll provide the answer with additional photos tomorrow.

The “buzzard signal fly”

January 17, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 15 Comments

During our time at Geelhoutbos farm in South Africa’s Northern (now Limpopo) Province, we spent most of our time in the foothills below a magnificent north-facing escarpment of the Waterberg Mountain Range. We were here to collect Buprestidae (including the magnificent Evides, featured previously in this post), and it was in the low bushveld woodland where the greatest diversity of buprestids would be found. Many of the buprestids we encountered were associated with the acacias that abundantly dotted the landscape – especially the iconic “umbrella thorn” (Acacia tortilis) and “sweet thorn” (Acacia karoo), providing sustenance for everything from bitsy beetles (including our beloved buprestids) to giant giraffes. Still, I kept eyeing the mountains, yearning to clamber up on top of the billion year old massif for no other reason than because it was there. Chuck had the good sense to stay down below amongst the acacias and buprestids while I spent an afternoon winding my way up the escarpment in the company of our hostess, Susan Strauss. I didn’t collect many buprestids during that trek, and if success is measured solely by numbers of buprestids collected then Chuck won. But if success also includes the chance to see spectacularly endless vistas from an otherworldly landscape on a once in a lifetime trip, then I didn’t do too badly.

While I didn’t see many buprestids during that afternoon, I did see a few other insects interesting enough to attract my attention and maybe an attempt at a photo. This stunning fly was one of those insects. Even though it exceeded a full inch in length, it still wasn’t the largest fly I had ever seen. However, with its black body, metallic blue wings and large, round, wax-red head it was certainly among the most impressive. A quick scan through my recently acquired Field Guide to Insects of South Africa (Picker et al. 2002) has at last identified this fly as Bromophila caffra. It is a member of the family Platystomatidae, commonly known as signal flies and part of the great superfamily Tephritoidea of fruit fly fame (i.e., true fruit flies – not “the” fruit fly which belongs to the family Drosophilidae and which are more properly called vinegar flies).

Signal flies are interesting on several fronts, firstly because of their catholic tastes – Sivinski (1999) records rotting tree trunks, bulbs, roots and fruit, dried flowers and dead grass stems, dung and fungus as breeding sites, and notes – gruesomely – that mass graves dug in World War II sometimes produced huge numbers of the species Platystoma lugubre. It is some of the Australasian species, however, that have truly made a name for this family. In the tropical rainforests of Guinea and Queensland, males of many species exhibit modifications of their heads that are used in agonistic interactions with sexual rivals. These vary from broadening of the face into a surface used to push against the face of another male, to extremely well-developed stalk eyes used to gauge rival male’s size and strength in face to face combat.

But what about Bromophila caffra? Aside from being one of the most recognizable of flies in Africa, it’s sluggish disposition and apparent noxiousness were obvious even to early naturalists. Marshall (1902) noted the similarity of its coloration (black body, blue wings, red or yellow head) to that of two Pompilus spp. and one sphecid wasp with which it occurred sympatrically. Regarding its habits, he also noted:

The Bromophila fly is very plentiful; it is the most sluggish fly known to me, and settles about on trees and bushes in a very conspicuous manner. It ejects a yellow liquid from the mouth when handled, and was refused when offered to my baboons and Cercopithecus monkey.

Andrew Whittington, commenting on a photo of this species posted on DipteraInfo.com, provides further clues that seem to confirm the noxious qualities of this species, explaining not only its striking color and brazen habits but also the ease with which I obtained the above photograph:

Our knowledge of larval habits is very rudimentary. There appears to be an association with the roots of Terminalia trees (Combretaceae), from which the larvae sequester various toxic compounds (probably cyclic triterpenes) possibly for defense. This may render the adults toxic too, as a defense against predation – not a thoroughly tested hypothesis.
Adults are slow moving and ponderous … and photogenic!

I find it surprising that a large, strikingly distinctive, abundant insect such as Bromophila caffra should lack a common name, but it appears this is the case. None was given in Field Guide to Insects of South Africa, nor amongst the several South African wildlife and dipteran websites which I encountered featuring photos of this insect. In thinking about what common name Bromophila caffra could have, I can’t help but draw comparisons between this insect and the turkey vulture (Cathartes aura), or “buzzard,” of North America (despite their belonging to entirely separate phyla). Both species are among the larger members of their respective orders and make their living eating repulsive foodstuffs. Hulking black with naked, red, plastic-like heads, most predators regard them as too vile and noxious to bother with, leaving them free to pass their lives in unmolested disdain. With this in mind, I hereby propose “buzzard signal fly” as the official common name for this insect 😉

Additional photographs of Bromophila caffra can be seen at Joan Young’s fine blog, South African Photographs, and at Biodiversty Explorer, the web of life in Southern Africa. This is the fifth in a series of posts covering a natural history excursion to South Africa in November/December 1999. Click on “South Africa” under “Tags” to see links and summaries for other posts in this series.

REFERENCES:

Marshall, G. A. K. 1902. Five year’s observations and experiments (1896-1901) on the bionomics of South African insects, chiefly directed to the investigation of mimicry and warning colours. Transactions of the Entomological Society of London, 1902:287-584.

Picker, M., C. Griffiths and A. Weaving. 2002. Field Guide to Insects of South Africa. Struik Publishers, Cape Town, 444 pp.

Sivinski, J. 1999. Breeding habits and sex in families closely related to Tephritidae: Opportunities for comparative studies of the evolution of fruit fly behavior, pp. 23-39. In: M. Aluja and A. L. Norrbom [eds.], Fruit Flies (Tephritidae): Phylogeny and Evolution of Behavior, CRC Press, Boca Raton, 984 pp.

Top Ten of 2008

January 1, 2009October 10, 2011 / Ted C. MacRae / 10 Comments

For the first post of 2009, I begin with a look back at some of my favorite photos from 2008 (idea stolen from Alex Wild and others). I initially hesitated to do a “best photos” post since I’m not really a photographer – just an entomologist with a camera. Nevertheless, and with that caveat in mind, I offer ten photos that represent some of my favorites from this past year. To force some diversity in my picks, I’ve created “winning” categories (otherwise you might just see ten tiger beetles!). Click on the photos to see larger versions, and feel free to vote for your favorite. If so, what did you like about it? Was there a photo I didn’t pick that you liked better? Enjoy!

Best tiger beetle

From “All the better to see you with, my dear!” (September 2008). Picking a top tiger beetle photo was tough with so many to choose from. Ultimately, I decided I really like these face-on shots, and of the several I’ve posted this one of Cicindela formosa generosa has the overall best composition, balance and symmetry. I considered this one of Cicindela formosa formosa – with its half-cocked jaws, it probably has better personality. However, the one above got the final nod because it is a true field shot of an unconfined, unmanipulated individual.

Best jewel beetle

From Buppies in the bush(veld) (December 2008). Although taken back in 1999, I just recently scanned and posted this photo of Agelia petelii from South Africa. I like the bold, contrasting colors of the beetle combined with the soft colors of the host foliage. Runners up included these photos of Evides pubiventris with its sumptuous iridescent green blending beautifully with the green background (but suffering slightly from shallow depth of field) and Chrysobothris femorata with its intricate surface sculpturing.

Best longhorned beetle

From Rattled in the Black Hills (September 2008). This was an easy choice – none of the other longhorned beetle photos that I posted during 2008 matched this photo of Tetraopes femoratus for clarity, composition, and the striking contrast between the red color of the beetle and the green color of the host plant. I especially like the detailing of the body pubescence.

Best non-beetle insect

From Magnificently Monstrous Muscomorphs (November 2008). I do like other insect besides beetles, and robber flies are hard to beat for their charisma. This photo of Proctacanthus milbertii (which, as Chris Taylor pointed out, literally translates to “Milbert’s spiny butt”), has great composition and nice, complimentary colors. I like contrast between the fine detail of the fly and the soft background.

Best non-insect arthropod

From Happy Halloween! (October 2008). I didn’t have many non-insect arthropod photos to choose from, but this photo of a female Argiope aurantia (yellow garden spider) would be deserving of recognition no matter how many I had to choose from. I like the bold, contrasting colors and symmetry of the spider in front of the dappled background of this photo.

Best non-arthropod animal

Another one from Rattled in the Black Hills (September 2008). This is admittedly not the best photo from a purely technical perspective – it’s a little out of focus, and the color is a bit off. However, no photo could better convey the moment – confronted with a live, angry prairie rattlesnake (Crotalus viridis) (among the more aggressive species in the genus). The forked tongue and rattle – blurred in motion – were icing on the cake.

Best wildflower

From Glades of Jefferson County (July 2008). I had several wildflower closeups to choose from, but I kept coming back to this field shot of pale purple coneflower (Echincea simulata) and Missouri evening primrose (Oenethera macrocarpa). The eastern redcedars (Juniperus virginiana) in the background are at once indicative of their preferred habitat (limestone/dolomite glades) and also testament to their threatening encroachment.

Best tree

From the very simply and aptly named Lake Tahoe, California (March 2008). Incense cedar (Calocedrus decurrens), with its reddish, deeply furrowed bark and great height, is one of the most majestic of western conifers. I was captivated by this tree – beautiful even in death and contrasting nicely with the surrounding green foliage.

Best rockscape

From Pipestone National Monument (April 2008). “Old Stone Face” is one of Pipestone’s most recognizable geologic features, and the short angle of the sun on this early spring day provided nice detail to the cracks and fissures of the rock – almost appropriately adding a weathered “age” to this old man.

Best landscape

Another one from Lake Tahoe, California (March 2008). Few places on earth are more photogenic than Lake Tahoe, and this perspective overlooking Emerald Bay is among the finest views I’ve seen. Brilliant blue skies and majestic snow covered mountains reflected perfectly from the still surface, with Fannette Island providing a perfect focal point for the photo.

Best miscellaneous

From Ozark Trail, lower Trace Creek Section (December 2007). While technically not a 2008 photo, it’s close enough. This was one of the first macro photographs I took with my camera, and it remains one of my favorites. A chance occurence of an unlikely subject, created by cold temperatures and heavy moisture-laden air. I like the contrast between the water drops – sharp, round, and clear – with the vertical shapes of the leaf petioles and background trees. Viewing the image full-sized reveals the reflection of the photographer in the leftmost water drop.

Subsequent edit: Okay, so after I put this post together, I realized I actually featured eleven photos – too much difficulty choosing, I guess. Let’s call it a baker’s ten.

	Ted C. MacRae on 🪲 A day in the St. Francois Mo…
	John Frederick on 🪲 A day in the St. Francois Mo…
	Ted C. MacRae on 🪲 A day in the St. Francois Mo…
	John Frederick on 🪲 A day in the St. Francois Mo…
	Ted C. MacRae on My Canon 8X Macro Lens
	Robert on My Canon 8X Macro Lens
	Ted C. MacRae on My Canon 8X Macro Lens
	Robert on My Canon 8X Macro Lens
	Ted C. MacRae on 🌿 Botanizing (and 🪲 entomologi…
	Ted C. MacRae on My Canon 8X Macro Lens

Beetles In The Bush

Experiences and reflections of a Missouri entomologist

flies

North America’s largest robber fly

Prey bee mine

Ospriocerus abdominalis

Overlooked, needle-tailed, thick-headed fly

Newly emerged rabbit bot fly

Wednesday “What the heck?”

The “buzzard signal fly”

Top Ten of 2008

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