Two things I love about glades during fall…

…prairie dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum) in bloom…

Prairie dock (Silphium terebinthinaceum) in bloom | Caney Mountain Cons. Area, Ozark Co., Missouri

…and prairie tiger beetles (Cicindelidia obsoleta vulturina) on the prowl…

Prairie tiger beetle (Cicindelidia obsoleta vulturina) | Caney Mountain Cons. Area, Ozark Co., Missouri

On the last weekend of August I made another trip to the White River Hills of north-central Arkansas in a last gasp effort to confirm the occurrence in the area of the swift tiger beetle (Cylindera celeripes).  Records of this species include a single individual collected in 1996 at a site near Calico Rock, but two trips to the area this past June had already failed to reveal its presence.  I didn’t really expect that I would find it this time either, and such was the case.  However, what I was expecting/hoping to see was the beginning of the fall emergence of the prairie tiger beetle.  The Missouri/Arkansas disjunct population of this handsome species is perhaps my favorite tiger beetle of all, not only because of its good looks but because of the many spectacular fall collecting trips I’ve taken through the White River Hills to look for it.  In this regard I had success, although only two individuals were seen all day long.  The area around Calico Rock seemed dry, apparently having been missed by the thunderstorms that rolled through the area a week earlier and that would have surely triggered full bore adult emergence. 

Long Bald Glade Natural Area, Caney Mountain Cons. Area, Ozark Co., Missouri

The following day I returned to Caney Mountain Conservation Area on the Missouri side, where last fall I had finally found prairie tiger beetles after years of searching what must be the extreme northeasternmost limit of its distribution.  Fresh evidence of recent rains was seen, and accordingly the beetles were out in fairly decent numbers in the same area where I found them last fall.  I took the opportunity to photograph a few individuals (which I had not done last year) and then turned my attention to looking for other insects.  I had my eye out for the spectacularly beautiful bumelia borer (Plinthocoelium suaveolens) and eventually found one.  I hoped also to see the marvelously monstrous Microstylum morosum (North America’s largest robber fly), which I found at this site in 2009 as a new state record and was rewarded with two individuals (these will serve as vouchers for the state record, since I didn’t collect it in 2009).  Temperatures were rather warm and both of these latter species are traditional “summer” species; however, the presence of prairie tiger beetles, the tawny tinge to the prairie grasses, and the noticeably longer shadows under a deep blue sky told me that fall was, indeed, on the way.

Prairie tiger beetle (Cicindelidia obsoleta vulturina) | Caney Mountain Cons. Area, Ozark Co., Missouri

While prairie tiger beetles are (at least for me) the most iconic harbinger of fall in the White River Hills, another classic fall sight was the thick stands of prairie dock plants with their tall, bolting flower spikes.  In Missouri this plant serves as a larval host for the longhorned beetle Ataxia hubbardi.  In my early years of collecting in Missouri’s glades, I delighted in finding adults of these beetles clinging to the flower stalks during fall—presumably laying eggs from which larvae would hatch and bore down into the tap-root.  Although commonly regarded as a pest in sunflower in the southern Great Plains, individuals associated with prairie dock in Missouri’s glades seem different—smaller, narrower, and darker—than those found on sunflower and other more common hosts.  Additional material will be needed to make a final assessment on whether these individuals represent a distinct taxon; however, I have not been able to find this species on prairie dock in Missouri since I moved back to the state nearly 16 years ago.  The reason for this sudden disappearance remains a mystery, and perhaps it is purely coincidental that the Missouri Department of Conservation began managing all of their glades with prescribed burns during my previous 5-year absence from the state.  In the meantime, I will continue to examine prairie dock stems every fall in the hopes that once again I will find the beetles and be able to come to a decision about their taxonomic status.  Perhaps I should re-focus my efforts in “low quality” (i.e., never-burned) gladey roadsides rather than our state’s “high quality” (i.e., high floral diversity) natural areas.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Bumelia borer on white

Plinthocoelium suaveolens suaveolens | Ozark Co., Missouri

Last weekend I visited one of my favorite collecting spots in all of Missouri—Long Bald Glade Natural Area (part of Caney Mountain Conservation Area in Ozark Co.).  Nestled at the eastern edge of the White River Hills in southwestern Missouri, its deeply dissected hills are home to numerous plants and animals that are more typical of the southern Great Plains and which have found refuge in the xeric, thin-soiled calcareous prairies (commonly “cedar glades”) that cover the area’s southern- and western-facing slopes.  These include some rather impressive insects, such as a disjunct population of Cicindelidia obsoleta vulturina, which I just found here last year as the new northeasternmost extent of the population, as well as the marvelously monstrous Microstylum morosum, North America’s largest robber fly and so far known in Missouri only from Long Bald Glade where it was discovered in 2009. 

Another quite striking insect found at Long Bald Glades (though not restricted in Missouri to the White River Hills) is the bumelia borer, Plinthocoelium suaveolens.  This beetle occupied much of my time in July 2009 as I committed to photographing the species in the wild, and it was Long Bald Glade where I finally (if not completely satisfactorily) succeeded in that goal.  This time I was visiting the Glade to look for the earliest individuals of C. obsoleta vulturina and, hopefully, document additional glades within Caney Mountain that might support the beetle.  However, in the back of my mind I was also keeping a lookout for P. suaveolens—this species is primarily active during July and August in Missouri, but I do have records of it as late as September.  As I looked for (and found) tiger beetles, I also checked out each bumelia tree that I passed hoping to see a P. suaveolens adult perched on its lower trunk.  It was not until later in the afternoon that I heard a loud “buzz” approaching from behind and turned to see one of these beauties fly right past me—legs and antennae held outstretched—before landing on a nearby tree.  Now, over the years I’ve learned a few lessons, and one is that you don’t try to take in situ photographs of the first individual you encounter of a prized species.  More often than not it gets away before you even fire the first shot, and you’re left with nothing.  My standard procedure now is to procure the first individual immediately and keep it alive.  If attempts to photograph subsequent individuals are not successful (or none are seen), then at least I have a backup for studio shots (not my first choice, but better than nothing!).  Such was the case with this individual.

Although I still lack that “perfect” beetle-on-a-branch shot that I hope to eventually get for this species, it seemed a good subject for some white-box photography.  I’ve vacilated between true white-box w/ indirect flash versus getting a white-box effect by using direct, diffused flash with the subject on a white background.  I decided now was the time for a direct comparison of the two techniques.  All of the following photographs were taken with the Canon 100mm macro lens on a Canon 50D body at 160 ISO, 1/200 sec, and f/16.  For the closeups (photos 3 and 5 of each series), 68mm of extension tubes were added.  The photos on the left are true white-box photos, i.e. the flash heads were directed up and away from the subject placed inside a box lined with white tissue (Kim-Wipes laboratory wipers).  The photos on the right mimic the white-box effect by placing the subject on white filter paper, but the flash heads were pointed directly at the subject through my DIY concave diffuser (click on photos for 1200×800 versions):

Indirect flash in white box

Direct flash w/ DIY diffuser

Indirect flash in white box

Direct flash w/ DIY diffuser

Indirect flash in white box

Direct flash w/ DIY diffuser

Indirect flash in white box

Direct flash w/ DIY diffuser

Indirect flash in white box

Direct flash w/ DIY diffuser

I must admit, looking at the photos on the camera playback screen I had the impression that I would like the direct-diffuser photos better, but after reviewing them on the computer and applying typical post-processing enhancements (e.g., levels, slight shadow reduction, and unsharp mask), the true white-box photos appear to have benefited from more even lighting, resulting in truer color, less shadowing, and minimal specular highlighting.  Not that the direct-diffuser photos are bad—they’re just not as good as the white-box photos.  I guess what this means is that my DIY diffuser, while a significant improvement over my previous diffusers, still could use some improvement (if ability to create white-box-like results is the ultimate test of a diffuser’s effectiveness).  I’d be interested in knowing your opinions based on these comparisons.

Congratulations to Ben Coulter, who wins yet another Super Crop Challenge and strengthens his lead in the overall standings of the current BitB Challenge Session #4 with 13 points.  Mr. Phidippus also correctly identified the species and takes 2nd place in the challenge with 8 points, keeping him in 2nd place in the overall standings as well.  Morgan Jackson takes 3rd place in the challenge with 7 points, but Roy’s retains 3rd place in the overall standings by way of his 6 points in this challenge.  Congratulations to these top points earners, and thanks to all who played.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Speaking of Graphisurus

Graphisurus fasciatus | Sam A. Baker State Park, Missouri.

Graphisurus fasciatus is the commonest of the three species in this North American genus. It is easily distinguished from  by its smaller, narrower form, more mottled coloration, and lack of distinctive triangular-shaped black markings on the elytra. However, it can easily be confused with the third species in the genus G. despectus, which is nearly identical in size and coloration. From this latter species, G. fasciatus may be distinguished by the slightly darker ground color of the elytra (in G. despectus the elytra are more uniformly grayish) with the post-median dark marking of the elytra not very conspicuous (in G. despectus this marking and contrasts distinctly with the grayish elytra). Also, the tips of the elytra are distinctly emarginate (concave) in G. fasciatus but more subtruncate in G. despectus, and the scutellum in the former is pubescent (hairy) but glabrous (lacking hairs) in the latter.

Host plant is also a clue as to the identity of this individual (a male, as distinguished by its very long antennae and lack of distinctly elongate ovipositor extending from the tip of the abdomen), as it was found on the trunk of a very large, recently wind-thrown black oak (Quercus velutina)—its preferred host genus.  Graphisurus despectus, in contrast, appears to be associated almost exclusively with hickory (genus Carya).  Both species, despite their relatively modest size (generally 10–15mm in length, excluding the female ovipositor), seem to prefer dead wood from the trunk and main branches of larger trees for larval development, mining just beneath the bark rather than in the wood itself.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Graphisurus triangulifer in Missouri

Graphisurus triangulifer | Sam A. Baker State Park, Missouri

Of the three species of the genus Graphisurus occurring in Missouri, G. triangulifer is both the most attractive and the least commonly encountered.  Back when I surveyed the Cerambycidae of Missouri (MacRae 1994), I examined only 45 specimens of this species in the major public and private collections of the state, compared to slightly more of the equally uncommon G. despectus and a whopping 271 of the übercommon G. fasciatus.  Nearly all of the specimens I examined of this species were encountered at lights, and it has been in this manner almost exclusively that I have seen the species for myself.

The species is named for the dark triangular markings on the elytra.

The individual in these photos was seen at Sam A. Baker State Park in the southeastern Ozark Highlands of Missouri during early July, and—like most of the others I have seen—it was attracted to my blacklight. I really don’t like photographing insects directly on the white landing sheet that I use for blacklighting, so I moved the beetle to the trunk of a nearby boxelder tree (Acer negundo) for a more natural looking background. There are a few reports of the species utilizing Acer for larval development (Lingafelter 2007), so this could be a very natural setting; however, I have not seen any actual records of the species being reared from that host. More often the species has been recorded breeding in dead sugarberry (Celtis laevigata). While I have conducted many rearings from Celtis, I’ve not yet succeeded in rearing this species—I suspect it probably breeds in larger diameter branches given its relatively large size (12–17 mm in length).  This idea is bolstered by the fact that the one adult that I did not encounter at lights was found on the trunk of a large, dead sugarberry near San Antonio, Texas.  Hoffman et al. (2002) noted that the species exhibits a southern, lowland distribution extending from Long Island to central Georgia, thence west to Texas and northward in the interior as far north as Ohio and Indiana (it has also been recorded from Kansas and, of course, Missouri).  This distribution pattern agrees largely with that of Celtis laevigata in the eastern U.S., suggesting that this plant may indeed be its primary host.  A fairly restricted host range for G. triangulifer would not be unexpected, since each of the other two species in the genus also exhibits a fair degree of host fidelity—G. despectus breeds almost exclusively in hickory (Carya spp.), while G. fasciatus breeds primarily in oak (Quercus spp.).

REFERENCES:

Hoffman, R. L., S. M. Roble, and W. E. Steiner, Jr. 2002. Thirteen additions to the known beetle fauna of Virginia (Coleoptera: Scirtidae, Bothrideridae, Cleridae, Tenebrionidae, Melyridae, Callirhipidae, Cerambycidae, Chrysomelidae). Banisteria 20:53–61.

Lingafelter, S. W. 2007. Illustrated Key to the Longhorned Woodboring Beetles of the Eastern United States. Coleopterists Society Miscellaneous Publications, Special Publication No. 3, 206 pp.

MacRae, T. C. 1994. Annotated checklist of the longhorned beetles (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae and Disteniidae) known to occur in Missouri. Insecta Mundi 7(4) (1993):223–252.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Elytrimitatrix at my window


This evening as I was sitting in my comfy chair, I noticed Stitch (one of the cats) pawing at the window. We live in the woods, so it is common for insects to land on the outsides of the windows after dark, attracted to the lights from within our home. Stitch was especially interested in a rather large beetle crawling frantically on the window, which I recognized quickly as the cerambycid beetle, Orthosoma brunneum. This big brown beetle is a member of the root-boring subfamily Prioninae, and although it is perhaps one of the commonest longhorned beetles in our area during July and August, I’ve not yet photographed it. As I debated whether to do so, I noticed the distinctive silhouette of another cerambycid beetle sitting quietly lower down on the window—smaller than O. brunneum but still decent-sized. I opened the window a crack (to keep all the other insects from rushing in), reached my hand through the crack, grabbed the beetle and in pulled it inside. It was a fine specimen of what is now known as Elytrimitatrix undata. I forgot all about the Orthosoma beetle and decided to photograph Elytrimitatrix instead.

While a member of the longhorned beetle family Cerambycidae, the group to which this species belongs (subfamily Disteniinae) has long been treated as sort of the “red-headed stepchild” of the family due to disagreement about its affinities to other cerambycid groups. It has at times been considered a tribe of the subfamily Lepturinae, a tribe of the subfamily Cerambycinae, a subfamily of its own, and even a separate family. Much of this disagreement focuses on details of its morphology despite the great superficial resemblance of the adults to other cerambycids. For now, it seems most workers are satisfied to regard the group as a distinct subfamily within the Cerambycidae, even though its exact relationships to other subfamilies still remain unclear.

Despite numerous representatives in the Neotropics, E. undata is the only member of the subfamily in the U.S., occurring broadly across the eastern and central states. For many years it was known as “Disteniaundata but was recently split out of that genus by Santos-Silva & Hovore (2007). Larvae have been recorded breeding in the dead wood of a variety of hardwoods as well as pine (the ultimate generalist), and adults are regular visitors at lights during the warm, muggy months of summer. I have also taken the species in numbers in traps baited with fermenting liquid (1 part molasses, 1 part beer, 8 parts water, and a packet of dry yeast) (MacRae 1994).

REFERENCE:

MacRae, T. C. 1994. Annotated checklist of the longhorned beetles (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae and Disteniidae) known to occur in Missouri. Insecta Mundi 7(4) (1993):223–252.

Santos-Silva, A. & F.T. Hovore. 2007. Divisão do gênero Distenia Lepeletier & Audinet-Serville, notas sobre a venação alar em Disteniini, homonímias, sinonímia e redescrições (Coleoptera, Cerambycidae, Disteniinae). Papéis Avulsos de Zoologia 47:1–29.

Four-humped Longhorned Beetle

Acanthoderes quadrigibba | Chalk Bluff Natural Area, Arkansas.

On a recent collecting trip, I went over to Chalk Bluffs Natural Area in the Mississippi Alluvial Plain of northeastern Arkansas.  My quarry was a population of Cylindera cursitans (ant-like tiger beetle) that has been reported from the site—one of the only known sites for the species in Arkansas.  While I was there, I noticed some movement on the trunk of a tree, and a closer look revealed that what appeared to be a piece of bark was actually a beetle—a longhorned beetle to be precise.  The elevated gibbosities of the pronotum and white, transverse fasciae of the elytra immediately identify it as Acanthoderes quadrigibba, a not uncommon species in the eastern U.S., but one that I still get excited about whenever I encounter it.

Note the four pronotal ''humps'' in this dorsolateral profile view.

Judging by the number and diversity of plant genera that have been recorded as larval hosts for this species—Linsley and Chemsak (1984) recorded Acer, Betula, Carya, Castanea, Celtis, Cercis, Fagus, Ficus, Quercus, Salix, Tilia, and Ulmus—you could be forgiven for thinking that this is one of the most common and abundant species of longhorned beetle in North America.  I have not found this to be the case, and I don’t think it is because I’m simply missing it due to its cryptic appearance.  Longhorned beetles in the tribe Acanthoderini are, like many species in the family, quite attracted to lights at night, and I’ve done plenty of lighting over the years.  What I have noticed is that nearly all of my encounters with this species have been in the Mississippi Alluvial Plain—an area rich with wet, bottomland forests that contrast markedly from the dry to dry-mesic upland forests that cover much of the southern two-thirds of Missouri.  I’ve also reared the species a few times from Salix, one of the host genera recorded by Linsley and Chemsak (1984).  In both cases, the wood was not freshly dead (as is commonly preferred by many other longhorned beetles), but a little past its prime and starting to get somewhat moist and punky.  In the case of this beetle, I suspect that the nature of the host wood may be more important than the species, the preference being for longer dead wood in moister environments.  Of course, observations by another collector in another state may completely obliterate my idea, but for now it sounds good.

A closeup photograph of the elytral markings of this beetle was the subject of ID Challenge #9, to which a record 18 participants responded (thanks to all who played!).  Troy Bartlett takes the win with 12 points (and attention to detail), while Dennis Haines, Max Barclay, Mr. Phidippus, and Josh Basham all score double-digit points.  Troy’s win moves him into the top spot in the overall standings of the current BitB Challenge Session with 23 pts, but Dave is breathing down his neck with a deficit of just a single point.  Tim Eisele and Max Barclay have also moved to within easy striking distance with 19 and 18 points, respectively, and several others could make a surprise move if the leaders falter.  I think I’ll have one more challenge in the current session before deciding the overall winner—look for it in the near future. 

REFERENCE:

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.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Tracking Tetraopes texanus with Terry

Last month I traveled to Starkville, Mississippi to meet with an academic cooperator at Mississippi State University.  While arranging the trip, I contacted Terry Schiefer (no, not the fashion jewelry designer, but curator at the Mississippi Entomological Museum) to let him know I would be visiting.  Considering that late May should be pretty good insect collecting in that area, I wanted to see if he might be interested in doing a little beetle collecting after I finished up with my meetings.  Terry also specializes in Coleoptera and shares with me an interest in the taxonomy and faunistics of Cerambycidae and Cicindelinae.  I first met Terry some 13 years ago during my previous visit to MSU; I remember ogling at an impressive series of Aegomorphus morrisii, a spectacular species of longhorn beetle that was known at that time by precious few specimens and that he had recently found in Mississippi.  We hadn’t seen each other since but managed to keep in contact with occasional correspondence during the course of our longhorn studies.

Me & Terry Schiefer | Noxubee National Wildlife Refuge, May 2011.

Terry was more than happy to go beetle collecting with me, and among the possibilities that he mentioned when I arrived at the museum was nearby Noxubee National Wildlife Refuge.  I had done a little collecting there on my last visit, but I was especially intrigued when he mentioned the local population of an uncommon milkweed beetle species, Tetraopes texanus, that he had reported in one of the refuge’s prairie remnants (Schiefer 1998).  I have only seen this species once, up here in in east-central Missouri and which I reported as the species’ northernmost known population (MacRae 1994).  My more recent attempts to find this species have not been successful, so I was excited at the chance to see this longhorned species once again.

We arrived at the prairie with plenty of daylight to spare and began walking through the area where Asclepias viridis (its presumed host in Mississippi; in Missouri I found it on Asclepias viridiflora) was growing.  Typically milkweed beetles are quite approachable, having nothing to fear from predators by virtue of the cardiac glycosides that they sequester in their bodies from their milkweed foodplants and advertise so conspicuously with their bright red and black coloration.  Thus, we were looking for beetles sitting brazenly on the plants, but none were seen.  Eventually, Terry saw one in flight, and then I saw one in flight as well.  For some time, this was the only way we were seeing the beetles, and only by slowing down and scanning the prairie vegetation more carefully and deliberately did we begin to see the adults sitting on vegetation.  Interestingly, very few of them were seen actually sitting on milkweed plants.  Rather, they were on all manner of other plants, and they were very quick to take flight on our approach.  This was playing havoc with my desire to get field photographs of the beetles, especially field photographs on the host.  I decided that any photograph—host plant or not—was better than none, so I began attempting some shots.  My first one didn’t work out so well:


Finally I was able to get one of the beetle sitting on a plant, but the dorsal characters can’t be seen, nor is there anything about the photo that allows the species to be distinguished as T. texanus (the abruptly attenuate last antennomere distinguishes it from similar-appearing species):


Progress—more of the dorsal surface can be seen in the photo below, and the beetle is actually sitting on a milkweed plant.  However, the antennal tips are still frustratingly out of focus.  Note the completely divided upper and lower lobes of the eye—Tetraopes beetles give new meaning to the term “four-eyes”:


I chased beetle after beetle in flight, endlessly zigzagging across the prairie in what had to be a spectacle to any unknown observer.  Eventually, we found a beetle sitting on its host plant, and it remained calm during my deliberate approach.  I circled around for a good view of the dorsal surface and snapped off an apparent winner—everything in focus, good composition… but arghh, the antennal tips were clipped!


I kept at it and was about to back off a bit on the magnification and switch to landscape mode so I could get the full antennae in the frame when the beetle turned in a most fortuitous manner—nicely positioning its distinctive antennal tip right in front of a bright green leaf for contrast.  My friends, I present Tetraopes texanus on its presumed host plant, Asclepias viridis!


Terry and I were both puzzled by the flighty, nervous behavior that the beetles were exhibiting.  Neither of us had seen such behavior with milkweed beetles before, and I’m not sure I can offer any explanation for such.  I’d be interested in hearing any ideas you might have.

My thanks to Terry for showing me a few of his favorite spots (allowing me to collect a few choice species of longhorns), and to my co-worker/colleague Jeff Haines for indulging my desire mix a little beetle collecting into the business trip.  I hope they enjoyed it as much as I did.

REFERENCES:

MacRae, T.C. 1994. Annotated checklist of the longhorned beetles (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae and Disteniidae) occurring in Missouri. Insecta Mundi 7(4) (1993):223–252.

Schiefer, T.L. 1998. Disjunct distribution of Cerambycidae (Coleoptera) in the black belt prairie and Jackson prairie in Mississippi and Alabama. The Coleopterists Bulletin 52(3):278–284.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Recent literature – The Coleopterists Bulletin

Volume 64, No. 4 - December 2010

I returned to the office this week after spending two weeks in Brazil to find the December 2010 of The Coleopterists Bulletin in my inbox.  I don’t think there is another journal that I look forward to more eagerly than this one (with the possible exception of CICINDELA) – with each issue, I know that regardless of whether it contains any papers in my priority groups of interest (jewel beetles, longhorned beetles, and tiger beetles), it will nevertheless contain well-written articles presenting results of high-quality research on nothing but beetles – pure elytral ecstasy!  This latest issue, however, is a real keeper.  Gracing the cover is a stunning image of the South African jewel beetle species Julodis viridipes, photographed by my good friend and world jewel beetle expert Chuck Bellamy, and inside are three tiger beetle papers and two longhorned beetle papers – it’s almost as if the issue were produced just for me.

Friend and colleague Mathew Brust takes credit for two of the three tiger beetle papers.  In the first (Brust et al. 2010), he compares the efficiency of the three main methods for collecting tiger beetle larvae: fishing, stab-and-grab, and excavation. They found fishing to be the most efficient and least damaging of the three methods, an important finding for tiger beetle conservation where the availability of efficient, non-lethal survey methods is critical.  (What are “fishing” and “stab-and-grab” you ask?  Read the paper.)  In the second paper (Brust and Hoback 2010), Matt teams up with University of Nebraska entomologist Wyatt Hoback to provide new distributional records and larval descriptions of Nebraska’s tiger beetle, Cicindela nebraskana.  Ironically, this species is quite rare in it’s namesake state, and their findings give clues about the habitats in which it is most likely to occur (I had the good fortune to contribute a small amount of data).  In the third tiger beetle paper, Robert Richardson (2010) notes an overwhelming preponderance of left-superior mandibles in two species of Omus and speculates on the selective pressures that might operate on different tiger beetle clades to produce such a finding – a truly interesting read.

As for longhorned beetles, Sánchez-Martínez et al. (2010) report the utilization of living oaks by an apparently disjunct population of the marvelously beautiful Crioprosopus magnificus in central Mexico, complete with photographs of the larval workings and detailed emergence data.  (I am also reminded that I have a post on this very species that I need to put up).  Closer to home, Terence Schiefer and Patricia Newell (2010) independently recognized the existence of an undescribed subspecies of the red-edged saperda, Saperda lateralis, in the lower Mississippi Delta Region of the southeastern U.S., which together they describe as S. lateralis rileyi (named for Edward Riley, indefatigable collector of beetles, and collector of much of the type material).  Okay, I know what you’re thinking – “A new subspecies of S. lateralis? No way!”  Well, I was skeptical also when I first saw the title – several untenable and no longer recognized subspecies have already been described for this broadly distributed and variable species.  However, after noting the nature of the diagnostic characters, seeing the photographs, and studying their partially allopatric distributions, I was convinced.

In addition to the above papers, there were also a number of interesting book reviews in the issue, including The Chiasognathinae of the Andes, reviewed by M. J. Paulsen, A Field Guide of the Dynastidae Family of the South of South Americano access, reviewed by Ronald M. Young, and three book reviews by our beloved Art Evans: Illustrated Identification Guide to Adults and Larvae of Northeastern North American Ground Beetles (Coleoptera: Carabidae) [including tiger beetles]; The African Dung Beetle Genera; and Weevils of South Carolina (Coleoptera: Nemonychidae, Attelabidae, Brentidae, Ithyceridae, Curculionidae)no access.

REFERENCES:

Brust, M. L. and W. W. Hoback. 2010. Larval description and new Nebraska distribution records for Nebraska’s tiger beetle, Cicindela nebraskana Casey (Coleoptera: Carabidae). The Coleopterists Bulletin 64(4):341-346.

Brust, M. L., W. W. Hoback, and J. J. Johnson. 2010. Fishing for tigers: A method for collecting tiger beetle larvae holds useful applications for biology and conservation. The Coleopterists Bulletin 64(4):313-318.

Richardson, R. K. 2010. Mandibular chirality in tiger beetles (Carabidae: Cicindelinae). The Coleopterists Bulletin 64(4):386-387.

Sánchez-Martínez, G., O. Moreno-Rico, and M. E. Siqueiros-Delgado. 2010. Crioprosopus magnificus Leconte (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae) in Aguascalientes, Mexico: Biological observations and geographical distribution. The Coleopterists Bulletin 64(4):319-328.

Schiefer, T. L. and P. Newell. 2010. A distinctive new subspecies of Saperda lateralis F. (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae) from the southeastern United States. The Coleopterists Bulletin 64(4):329-336.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011