T.G.I.Flyday – Chalcosyrphus?

When I was an entomology student, I learned that flies in the family Syrphidae are called “hover flies,” due to their habit of hovering in front of flowers, and that the larvae are predators of aphids. As is the case for nearly every other group of insects, I now know that there are exceptions–often many—to the typical rule, and the fly shown in the above photograph is a perfect example of such. Being a beetle-man (and a wood-boring beetle-man, at that), I don’t generally notice flies unless there is something unusual about them. This fly was seen last summer at Sam A. Baker State Park in southeastern Missouri on the trunk of a very large, recently wind-thrown mockernut hickory (Carya alba) tree. I had never seen a fly quite like this before, but everything about it suggested an intimate association with dead wood, including its relatively large, hulking, black form and the way it repeated returned to and landed on the trunk of the dead tree each time I disturbed it. It instantly made me think of robber flies in the subfamily Laphriinae, which includes Andrenosoma fulvicaudum and many species of Laphria that, as larvae, tunnel through dead and decaying wood where they prey upon the larvae of wood-boring beetles. While it was quite obvious that the fly in the photo was not a robber fly, imagine my surprise when I eventually determined it to be a member of the family Syrphidae. For now I’ve provisionally settled on the genus Chalcosyrphus, although it lacks the steely blue cast exhibited by the only all-black species of the genus—C. chalybeus—shown on BugGuide. Another species, C. piger, looks very similar but seems always to have some red on the abdomen, which this individual definitely lacks. Perhaps the related genus Xylota is also a possibility, although the “gestalt” does not seem to quite match that of any shown on BugGuide. Most interesting for me are the distinctly enlarged and toothed metafemora, which along with the correspondingly curved tibiae suggest some predatory function, but the literature that I have seen makes no mention of such, but rather that the adults feed on pollen. My hunch about its association with dead wood does seem to be true, although it now seems the larvae are saprophages rather than predators within the wood, as I first imagined.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Beetle botanists

Calligrapha spiraeae on Physocarpus opulifolius | Jefferson Co., Missouri

While Dicerca pugionata (family Buprestidae) is, for me, the most exciting beetle species that I’ve found in Missouri associated with ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius). it is not the only one. The beetles in these photographs represent Calligrapha spiraeae, the ninebark leaf beetle (family Chrysomelidae). Unlike D. pugionata, however, I almost never fail to find C. spiraeae on ninebark, no matter when or where I look, and whereas D. pugionata has been recorded in the literature associated with a few other host plants like alder (Alnus spp.) and witch-hazel (Hamamelis virginiana), C. spiraeae is not known to utilize any other plant besides ninebark as its host.

Beetles in the genus Calligrapha are among the most host-specific of all phytophagous beetles, with most of the 38 species in this largely northeastern North American genus relying upon a single plant genus as hosts (Gómez-Zurita 2005). The genus as a whole is fairly recognizable by its dome-like shape and black and white or red coloration, with the black markings on the elytra varying from coalesced to completely broken into small spots. The species, however, are another matter, with several groups of species that are quite difficult to distinguish morphologically. Fortunately most of them can be easily distinguished by their host plant (although such information is rarely recorded on labels attached to museum specimens). Calligrapha spiraeae, for example, with its reddish coloration and small black spots, looks very much like two other species in the genus—C. rhoda and C. rowena. Those latter species, however, are restricted to hazel (Corylus spp.) and dogwood (Cornus spp.); as long as the host is known, the species can be readily identified in the field.

At this point you may be wondering why the species name refers to the plant genus Spiraea rather than Physocarpus. In fact, ninebark was already known as the host plant when Say (1826) described the species, but the name spiraeae was given because at the time ninebark was included in the genus Spiraea (Wheeler & Hoebeke 1979).

REFERENCE:

Gómez-Zurita, J. 2005. New distribution records and biogeography of Calligrapha species (leaf beetles), in North America (Coleoptera: Chrysomelidae, Chrysomelinae). Canadian Field-Naturalist 119(1): 88–100.

Say, T. 1826. Descriptions of new species of coleopterous insects of North America. Journal of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia 5:293–304.

Wheeler, A. G., & E. R. Hoebeke. 1979. Biology and seasonal history of Calligrapha spiraeae (Say) (Coleoptera: Chrysomelidae), with descriptions of the immature stages. The Coleopterists Bulletin 33:257–267. 

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Just published: Cicindela 44(1) March 2012

Issue 44(1) of the journal Cicindela is now hitting mailboxes. This one-paper issue features an article by Chandima D. Dangalle and Nirmalie Pallewatta (University of Colombo, Sri Lanka) and Alfred P. Vogler (The Natural History Museum, London) reporting the results of a survey of tiger beetles of Sri Lanka and analysis of their habitat specificity. The authors sampled 94 locations on the island representing six habitat types: coastal and beach habitat, river and stream banks, reservoir systems, urban man-made sites, agri-ecosystems and marshy areas, finding ten species in the genera Cylindera, Calomera, Hypaetha, Lophyra and Myriochile at 37 locations representing all habitat types except the last two. The study further revealed that the species of tiger beetles were restricted to different habitat types, with most displaying a high degree of habitat specificity. Statistical analysis revealed significant differences between two or more species in four factors: solar radiation (i.e., sun or shade), soil salinity, soil moisture and wind speed. This suggests that these are the key factors involved in habitat selectivity in Sri Lankan tiger beetle species. Other factors such as temperature, relative humidity, soil type and soil color did not differ significantly between habitats for the different species, suggesting that these criteria are essential for tiger beetle survival in any habitat type.

You may also notice that my photo of Cicindela arenicola, taken last fall in Idaho Falls, graces the cover of this latest issue. Contact Managing Editor Ron Huber to begin your subscription—membership is a very nominal $10 per year in the U.S., a little more elsewhere to cover additional postage.

REFERENCE:

Dangalle, C. D., N. Pallewatta & A. P. Vogler. 2012.  Habitat specificity of tiger beetle species (Coleoptera, Cicindelidae) of Sri Lanka. Cicindela 44(1):1–32.

Dicerca pugionata – safe and sound!

Dicerca pugionata on Physocarpus opulifolius (ninebark) | Jefferson Co., Missouri

One of my favorite beetle species in Missouri is Dicerca pugionata—a strikingly beautiful jewel beetle (family Buprestidae) found sporadically across the eastern U.S. Unlike most species in the genus, which breed in dead wood of various species of trees, D. pugionata larvae mine living stems of certain woody shrubs—namely alder (Alnus spp.), witch-hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) and ninebark (Physocarpus opulifolius) (Nelson 1975). When I first began studying Missouri Buprestidae (way back in 1982), the species had just been reported from the state based on a single specimen (Nelson et al. 1982). I happened to stumble upon these beetles at what became my favorite collecting spot during the 1980s—Victoria Glades Natural Area, just south of St. Louis in Jefferson Co. For several years while I was visiting Victoria Glades, I found these beetles regularly during spring and fall on stems and branches of living ninebark plants growing within the ravines and along the toeslopes at the lower edges of the glades.

After finding the beetles at Victoria Glades (and nearby Valley View Glades Natural Area), I made it a habit to examine ninebark wherever I found it growing in Missouri. Ninebark is actually rather common in the state along the rocky streams and rivers that dissect the Ozark Highlands. Interestingly, I almost never encountered this beetle on ninebark elsewhere in the state. I’m sure it occurs in other areas, but probably at too low a level to be easily detected. I surmised that the populations at Victoria and Valley View Glades were unusually high due to the non-optimal conditions for its host plant. The ravines and toeslopes where the plants grow are drier than typical for ninebark, and unlike the lush, robust plants found in moister streamside habitats, the plants at these glades are small, scraggly and often exhibit a certain amount of dieback. It seemed likely to me that the plants growing in the glades were less capable of fending off attacks by these insects, thus resulting in relatively higher numbers of beetles at these glades.

After the publication of my “Buprestidae of Missouri” (MacRae 1991), it would be many years before I actually returned to Victoria Glades. When I did return, I was pleased to see that management practices (e.g. prescribed burning, cedar removal, etc.) intended to halt the encroachment of woody vegetation and preserve the glade’s pre-settlement character had been implemented in the area. I was a little bothered, however, by the seeming paucity of insects compared to the years prior to management. I visited the glades again several times afterwards, and not only did insect populations in general seem to be depressed, but I never succeeded in finding D. pugionata adults on the ninebark plants. I began to worry that the prescribed burns, while clearly beneficial to the glade flora, might have had a negative impact on the glade’s insect populations.

I’m happy to report that, at last, I have found the beetles again. I returned to the glades in early May this year and, for the first time since 1987 I found the adults of this species—five in all (a typical number for the many dozens of plants checked) and right in the same areas where I had so consistently found them 25–30 years earlier. This does much to allay my concerns about the ability of these beetles to persist in the face of prescribed burning (though I remain convinced that this management technique should be used more judiciously in our state’s natural areas than it has in recent years), and I’m happy to have these new photographs of the species, which are a decided improvement over the old scanned slides taken nearly 30 years ago!

REFERENCES:

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

Nelson, G. H. 1975. A revision of the genus Dicerca in North America (Coleoptera: Buprestidae). Entomologische Arbeiten aus dem Museum G. Frey 26:87–180.

Nelson, G. H., D. S. Verity & R. L. Westcott. 1982. Additional notes on the biology and distribution of Buprestidae (Coleoptera) of North America. The Coleopterists Bulletin 35(2) [1981]:129–151.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Holy conglobulation, Batman!

It’s a pill bug… no, it’s a roach. It’s a pill roach!

Earlier this month I made a quick trip out to California to see my good friend Chuck Bellamy receive his Honorary Membership in The Coleopterist Society. While I was there, I got a chance to spend some time with Chuck’s labmate Martin Hauser. Although Martin is a specialist of flies, he shares my fascination with unusual arthropods of all types and made available for me to photograph this adult female Perisphaerus sp. (order Blattodea, family Blaberidae), or “pill roach”. Seventeen species from southeast Asia and Australia have been described in this genus (Beccaloni 2007), but which (if any) this individual represents remains unknown.

In contrast to ”normal”-looking males, adult females exhibit a ”wingless, half-ellipsoid” morphology.

The most obvious characteristic of species in this genus is the ability of females to roll up into a ball; i.e., conglobulate.¹ Clearly this is a defensive morphotype, but curiously only females possess this ability—males are winged and exhibit the more flattened morphology typical of many cockroaches. Martin and I were unable to get this particular individual to completely enroll (we must not have been scary enough), but when it does the posterior abdomen fits tightly against the pronotal margin, covering all sensory organs and leaving no soft tissues exposed, gaps to enter or external projections to grab (Bell et al. 2007).

¹ I must thank Brady Richards, who, in his answer to ID Challenge #18, used this word to coin the phrase that would eventually become the title of this post.

Adult females apparently exhibit not only maternal protection but also nutrition.

But why should only females and not males exhibit this defensive morphotype? One would think that both males and females are equally threatened by predators. Apparently this is related to their unusual form of uniparental (maternal) care (Choe & Crespi 1997).  Early-instar nymphs in this genus remain closely associated with their mother and cling to her underside until they reach the third instar. These early-instar nymphs are not only blind, but they also exhibit a narrowed head with specially modified mouthparts that fit precisely into two pairs of orifices located on the female underside between the middle and hind pairs of legs. Whether the nymphs are feeding on glandular secretions or female hemolymph remains unknown, but regardless only a limited number of nymphs can be handled by a female at one time. This represents an unusual level of energetic investment in offspring among insects—especially among cockroaches, and thus the female has an interest in protecting that investment. Sealing them up inside an impenetrable ball is certainly one way to protect the nymphs.

Despite first impressions, six legs and a very ”cockroach-ish” head belie its true identity.

Conglobulation has actually arisen several times amongst arthropods. Obviously pill bugs (a.k.a. roly-poly bugs) are the first group that comes to mind in this regard, but Eisner & Eisner (2002) illustrate nearly identical morphology in two oniscomorph millipedes as well as isopods and Perispharus and also describe strikingly similar behavior by the larva of Leucochrysa pavida  (family Chrysopidae).

Many thanks to those of you who participated in ID Challenge #18. As of now, the comments for that challenge are closed, and I will reveal the comments and award points shortly. My sincere thanks again to Martin Hauser for allowing me to photograph this most interesting insect!

Edit 5/28/12, 12:55 a.m.: For the first time ever, we have a 3-way tie for a BitB Challenge win—Sam Heads, Brady Richards, and Mr. Phidippus all earned 12 points to share the top spot in this challenge. Since these three gentlemen were already the three leaders in BitB Challenge Session #6, there is no change to the leaderboard in the overall standings (44, 42 and 37 points, respectively). However, Dennis Haines (34 points) is hanging close, and Tim Eisele (25 points) still has a shot at the podium. Any number of others following closely behind could also find themselves on the podium if any of the three leaders should falter down the stretch.

REFERENCES:

 Beccaloni, G. W. 2007. Blattodea Species File Online. Version 1.0/4.1. World Wide Web electronic publication. <http://Blattodea.SpeciesFile.org&gt; [accessed 27 May 2012].

Bell, W. J., L. M. Roth & C. A. Nalepa. 2007. Cockroaches: Ecology, Behavior, and Natural History. The Johns Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, Maryland, 230 pp.

Choe, J. C. & B. J. Crespi. 1997. The Evolution of Social Behavior in Insects and Arachnids. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, U.K., 541 pp.

Eisner, T. & M. Eisner. 2002. Coiling into a sphere: defensive behavior of a trash-carrying chrysopid larva Leucochrysa (Nodita) pavida (Neuroptera: Chrysopidae). Entomological News 113:6–10.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Science Outreach in Action

This evening I had the distinct pleasure of presenting to the Missouri Master Naturalist™ program, a community-based natural resource education and volunteer service program for adults whose mission is to “engage Missourians in the stewardship of our state’s natural resources through science-based education and volunteer community service.”  The purpose of this organization is to develop a corps of well-informed volunteers to provide education, outreach and service to benefit natural resources and natural areas management within the community. Master Naturalists receive training and contribute volunteer service to become a certified Master Naturalist™.

There are several chapters serving different areas of the state—my presentation was made to the Miramiguoa Chapter serving Franklin County in east-central Missouri. My talk was titled, “Tiger Beetles of Missouri,” and, as an “expert” in my chosen field, attendees received advanced training credit in addition to the basic training they receive in more general aspects of Missouri ecosystems. It is tempting to think that attendees were there just to get the credit, but what I found was one of the most engaged and interested audiences to which I’ve had the pleasure to speak in quite a long time. Naturally, it is not difficult for me to show a lot of passion when I get to present on something as dear to my heart as tiger beetles, but as a presenter I feed off audience enthusiasm as well. As a result, the combination of subject and audience engagement made for a fun discussion, and I only hope the audience enjoyed the 90 minute session as much as I did.

I write about this because I see Science Outreach by practicing scientists as critical to advancing appreciation of and participation in science by the general public—not just because I think they will have fun, but because a science-friendly community tends to make community and policy decisions favorable to and based on science. You might call it my brand of politics! I’ve been heavily involved in science outreach for many years now, talking to everyone from pre-schoolers to secondary school science classes to natural history organizations. The specifics of my message are tailored to the audience, but the underlying principle is the same—to help the audience gain appreciation of entomology in particular and science in general. I think I will chalk up tonight’s presentation as another win!

For those interested, here is a link to a PDF version of the presentation, which provides the best ‘snapshot’ look at the tiger beetle fauna of Missouri available so far:

Miramiguoa – May 2012 – TB of Missouri

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

Maddening mutillid

Traumatomutilla graphica (Gerstaecker, 1874) | Parque Nacional Chaco, Argentina

During my stay in Corrientes, Argentina, I had two distinct biomes to explore—the relatively moist “Selva Paraguayense” to the east in Corrientes Province (a southern adjunct to the Atlantic Forest of southeastern Brazil, and home to the cryptic longhorned beetle that I featured in Desmiphora hirticollis: Crypsis or Mimicry?), and the drier “Gran Chaco” to the west, home of the insect featured in today’s post. Precious few remnants remain of the original Gran Chaco, which once covered nearly 1 million square kilometers in northern Argentina, Paraguay and Bolivia and the best example of which can be found at Parque Nacional Chaco in north-central Argentina. I’ve already mentioned that conditions are typically quite dry by early April in northern Argentina, and this is especially true of Chaco Province, where droughts during the months of January through March are common. As a result, I didn’t expect to see much insect activity during my visit last month. For the most part this was true, but one insect I did see at several points along the trails through the park was this rather large velvet ant (order Hymenoptera, family Mutillidae). Not an ant, of course, but a true wasp, these insects must be treated with respect as they are capable of delivering a painful sting. This, combined with their ceaseless, erratic wanderings makes them incredibly difficult to photograph. However, with few other insects to see, I thought I would spend the time and effort to see if I could get some good field photographs of this very attractive species. I spent about half an hour attempting to photograph it by panning through the viewfinder while getting closer and adjusting the focus on the move, and then firing shots when I thought I might be close enough and had the individual more-or-less within the frame. This was wildly unsuccessful, as I had only a 3-ft wide path within which to work and had to constantly get up to block its escape into the adjacent vegetation. Moreover, it was exhausting! The constant moving and body contortions while in crouched or kneeling positions used muscles I didn’t even know I had (but was well aware of the following day by their soreness!). Out of the countless shots that I fired, these two photographs are the only ones that I consider worthy of posting—pretty good, but not great.

The distinctive color pattern is diagnostic for the species.

According to Kevin Williams (many thanks!), the distinctive color pattern readily identifies this individual as Traumatomutilla graphica (Gerstaecker, 1874). Nearly the size of our common eastern North American Dasymutilla occidentalis (a.k.a., cow killer), the bold, conspicuous patterning surely must serve as advertisement of its powerful defensive capabilities—I know I was deterred from trying to handle it. Kevin mentions it as a “great find!” and that the male of the species is still unknown, and I could find nothing about the biology of this species. However, mutillids in general are known to develop as external parasitoids of various wasps, bees, beetles and flies, the excessively long female ovipositor enabling piercing of host nest cells before injecting their powerful venom and placing the eggs (Hogue 1993).

REFERENCE:

Hogue, C. L. 1993. Latin American Insects and Entomology. University of California Press, Berkeley and Los Angeles, 536 pp.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012

One-Shot Wednesday: Upside down bee fly

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

This has got to be one of the strangest photos I’ve ever taken. Three weeks ago after visiting Sam A. Baker State Park (and photographing the scorpionfly featured in last week’s One-Shot Wednesday post), my dad and I visited a couple of sand prairie remnants in the Mississippi lowlands of extreme southeastern Missouri. I was hoping to see (and photograph) some individuals of the unique population of Cicindela scutellaris that occurs in that part of the state—apparently disjunct, this populations shows an intergrade of characters typical of subspecies C. s. lecontei to the north and C. s. unicolor to the south. I’ve photographed this population before, but those photographs were taken with a small (though quite good) point-and-shoot camera before I acquired my current dSLR camera setup.

Unfortunately, temperatures were quite cool that day, and no beetles were seen at either of the two locations we visited where I’ve seen good populations in past years. When I don’t find what I’m looking for, I start noticing other things, one of which was this very fresh-looking bee fly (order Diptera, family Bombyliidae) resting on the sandy ground. I’ve not really attempted to photograph many bee flies—they are as skittish and difficult to approach as the tiger beetles I adore but, unlike the latter, not a subject of my research and, thus, harder to justify spending inordinate amounts of time attempting photographs. This one, however, was sitting so nicely on the ground, and with no tiger beetles around to demand my attention I thought I would give it a shot (pun intended!). I carefully assembled my rig and slowly crouched down to attempt a photograph, but before I could get in position the fly spooked and tried to fly away. As it took off, however, it hit a plant and fell to the ground on it’s back. As it laid there,seemingly stunned, I got myself into position and took a quick shot to make sure I had the settings and exposure that I wanted. In that regard, I couldn’t ask for better, but of course what I really wanted was a photograph of the fly right-side up, resting on its feet rather than its back. Just as I was considering what to do next, the fly abruptly righted itself and flew away, leaving me with this single, rather unconventional photograph.

After perusing the bee fly pages at BugGuide, I was fairly certain this was something in the tribe Bombyliini, with the genera Bombylius and Systoechus being the likeliest candidates. Apparently the location of the r-m vein on the wing is an important distinguishing character between these genera, but I wasn’t quite sure about its location on the wing in this photograph. Nevertheless, some of the comments under the different species in these two genera suggested that members of Bombylius tend to be active as adults in the spring, while those of Systoechus tend more towards fall. I sent the photo to dipterist Joel Kitts at University of Guelph for his opinion—he confirmed that it belonged to the genus Bombylius and suggested its appearance was consistent with that of B. mexicanus—many thanks Joel!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2012