“62nd” Annual “Season-Opener-Birthday-Bug-Collecting-Trip”

This past Tuesday was my birthday, and as I have done for my entire adult life I took the day off and went on my traditional “Season-Opener-Bug-Collecting-Trip”. In the past I’ve usually just had one friend go with me, but today I had three—Rich, Chris, and Bill!

We started off by heading south about 3½ hours to Tingler Prairie Natural Area in Howell Co.. I wanted to come here because: 1) it was a place I’d never visited before, and 2) there is a population here of the endemic Ozark trillium (Trillium viridescens) that I thought might be in bloom. Rain in the forecast and a patch of the real thing on the way down had us a little worried, but the day turned out spectacular with temps climbing to 80°F and skies partly to mostly sunny.

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Tingler Lake – the centerpiece of Tingler Prairie Natural Area.

We never did find the trillium—even calling another friend (Casey), who had seen them here before to find out exactly where he saw them. Turns out we hit the right spot, but apparently we were too early, especially given how late spring has been moving along this year. Nevertheless, we still found much to capture our interest, including a yellow-bellied racer (Coluber constrictor flaviventris)—too quick for photos—and a black rat snake (Pantherophis obsoletus) that coiled up nicely under the end of a fallen log and tolerated my prodding and “cleaning” of the scene around him to get some good photos (albeit, only with the iPhone).

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Black rat snake (Pantherophis obsoletus).

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The “cloudy” eye is actually an artifact of the flash lighting reflected by the retina.

Unfortunately, insect activity was very light. We saw no tiger beetles and only the earliest spring forms of most other insects. I took about 10 specimens each of the early-spring jewel beetles Acmaeodera tubulus and Pachyschelus purpureus, which I found on flowers and foliage (respectively) of wild geranium, Geranium maculatum. It was the first time that I’d found the latter as abundant as this, so the series of specimens will be a welcome addition to my cabinet. I also took a couple of A. tubulus on a flower of violet wood sorrel, Oxalis violacea and showed the others the characteristic end of an oak twig pruned by a twig pruner (Anelaphus parallelus) larvae (and revealed the culprit for them to see). Despite the paucity of insects, it was a beautiful and high-quality spot, and I look forward to collecting here again sometime when the season is more advanced.

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Several adult Acmaeodera tubulus feeding on petals of wild geranium (Geranium maculatum) flowers.

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Twig pruner, Anelaphus parallelus, larva cut from its gallery near the base of a pruned oak twig.


Revealing the culprit while Chris takes notes on some of the birds he’s been hearing.


Redspotted purple butterfly, Limnetis arthemis astyanax (family Nymphalidae), caterpillar on black cherry (Prunus serotina), one of its favorite host plants. The caterpillar mimics bird droppings for protection.


Fire pink, Silene virginica (family Caryophyllaceae) thrives on a dry, cherty hillside.


Mayapple, Podophyllum peltatum (family Berberidaceae) prefers the rich, more mesic hillsides (this is where we expected Trillium viridescens to occur).

After finishing up at Tingler Prairie, we drove east an hour and bushwhacked over rough Forest Service 2-track to Bald Hill Glade Natural Area in Ripley Co. It had been close to 10 years since my previous visit, but I remembered the roads well. We had to park, however, about a mile from the entrance to the glade due to fallen trees across the final stretch 2-track. The landscape had changed considerably since my last visit—gone was the dense, close forest lining the 2-track, and in its place stood open woodland brought to this condition by active management that included the use of prescribed burning apparently as recently as the past season.


Dwarf iris (Iris cristata).


These diminutive plants are distinguished from other members of the genus by their short stature and sepals with midline beards.


Bald Knob Glade Natural Area.

After hoofing through the forest we reached the glade and found a beautiful—if somewhat sterile—scene before us. The recent burn included not only the woodland but also the glade itself, and no unburned refugia could be found anywhere. Floristically, this is beneficial for the glade, which needs periodic fire to prevent woody encroachment, but in my experience such burns also result in severely depressed insect populations for years afterwards. It takes time for the insects to find and recolonize the glade, and in this case the lack of unburned refugia will only increase the amount of time that will be needed for the insect populations to recover.

Nevertheless, we enjoyed our hike through the area, watched and listened to the calls and songs of a number of cool birds, including summer tanagers, indigo buntings, blue-gray gnatcatchers, and—a first for me—the splendidly yellow prairie warbler. We also took photographs of the glade and some of its plants (with the big camera), and on the way back to the car we found several of the Polistes wasp-mimicking light flies, Pyrgota undata (family Pyrgotidae). Interestingly, all were mating pairs, and the ones we observed closely (as we photographed them with the big camera) were engaged in a most curious “French kissing” behavior. I can’t wait to read up more on this when I prepare to post the photos of this behavior.


Widow’s cross (Sedum pulchellum).

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Me, Rich, Bill, and Chris.

Eventually, impending dusk signaled a close to the day, and after driving east another 1½ hours to have pizza dinner in Poplar Bluff we made the long drive back to St. Louis (arriving at my home at 12:30 a.m.!).

NOTE: All photos in this post were taken and processed with an iPhone X. The “real” photos taken with our “real” cameras will be shared as they become available.

© Ted C. MacRae 2019

When is an ant not an ant? When it’s a jumping spider, of course!

Peckhamia sp.

This past weekend my good friend and long-time collecting partner Rich and I visited one of our favorite insect collecting spots in all of Missouri – Victoria Glades Conservation Area. Together with an adjacent parcel owned by The Nature Conservancy, these represent one of the finest remaining examples of the glades – more properly called xeric limestone prairies – that once extended in an arc through Jefferson Co. south of St. Louis on south and west facing exposures of dolomitic limestone1.

For a more detailed description of the geology and natural history of these glades, see my post The Glades of Jefferson County.

Spring was late this season, with cool and wet conditions persisting into the early part of May. During the past two weeks, however, it has warmed and dried considerably (too much, almost), and thus the cacophony of life has begun in earnest. Still, despite the heat, we found the abundance of insects rather sparing, which in combination with the suite of wildflowers that were seen in bloom gave a feel of early spring (I mentioned to Rich that it “seemed like May 10th”). There were a few good species to be found though, the first being a single Agrilus fuscipennis, beaten off of its host persimmon (Diospyros virginiana). Continued beating of persimmon turned up little else, at which point I turned my attention to the post oak (Quercus stellata) trees lining the margins of the glades. The first couple of branches that I whacked turned up little of interest, but an “ant” that fell on my sheet from the third branch gave me pause – it was a little “too big”, and the manner it which it scampered across the sheet was a little “too urgent” and “too halting”. When I looked at it more closely, I realized that it was, of course, not an ant at all, but a jumping spider (family Salticidae), and more specifically a species in one of several genera within the family that are known for their striking mimicry of ants.

I have long wanted to photograph one of these gems, having seen them once or twice before but thus far not successful in photographing them. In this particular case, I had the advantage of somebody to help me, so I coaxed the spider onto a stick and had Rich hold it while I got my camera ready. Unfortunately, the ant… er, spider just kept running up and down the stick from one end to the other, forcing me to repeatedly grab the stick on alternating ends with one hand after the other (and quickly or it would run onto my hands!) and never really having an opportunity to attempt some shots. After a time of this, I decided to coax it onto a leaf instead to see if the larger, flatter surface might be of some help. It really didn’t, though, as the ant JUST. WOULD. NOT. STOP. RUNNING! Eventually, I resorted to simply trying to track the spider through the lens – holding the camera with my right hand and the leaf with my left, and firing shots whenever I thought the spider might be even close to in focus. I can be patient when photographing insects (and their kin), but this spider certainly tested my limits, and I eventually ended the session not at all confident that I had any usable photos. To my surprise, I managed to get one image (above) that wasn’t half bad and another that was at least serviceable (below – focus a bit too much in “front”).

Peckhamia sp.

As far as I can tell, this individual is a species of the genus Peckhamia, which Cutler (1988) distinguishes from the related genus Synageles by the carapace being more convex in the cephalic area and sharply declivous (downward sloping) behind the third row of eyes. The individual in these photos seems to agree with these characters, if I am interpreting them correctly. He also mentions the habit of species in these two genera to hold their second pair of legs aloft to give the illusion of them being antennae, which we noted for this individual and can attest to its effectiveness!

For more about ant mimics that I have found in Missouri, see my previous posts Flower ants? Check again! and North America’s itsiest bitsiest longhorned beetle.


Cutler, B. 1988. A revision of the American species of the antlike jumping spider genus Synageles (Araneae, Salticidae). Journal of Arachnology 15(3) [1987]:321–348 [pdf].

© Ted C. MacRae 2018

Crypsis? Mimicry? Crypsimicry?

Continuing with the previous post’s theme on crypsis, here is an interesting insect that I photographed in north-central Oklahoma in late June 2014. I was checking standing and fallen trunks of large, dead eastern cottonwood (Populus deltoides) trees in Woods Co. near the Cimarron River, where just a few days earlier I had found a jewel beetle (family Buprestidae) that had eluded me for more than 30 years—Buprestis confluens. I had found only a single individual and returned to the spot in the hopes of finding more. As I searched the trunk of one particularly large, fallen tree—its trunk still covered with bark, I noticed movement but couldn’t make out right away what I was seeing. A closer look revealed the movement to be from a wasp-like insect, its antennae curiously quivering in a manner that reminded me of an ensign wasp (family Evaniidae). More careful looking, however, revealed the insect to be not a wasp, but a longhorned beetle (family Cerambycidae), which I then recognized to be the species Physocnemum brevilineum.

Physocnemum brevilineum

Physocnemum brevilineum (Say, 1824) on fallen cottonwood (Populus deltoides) | Woods Co., Oklahoma

This beetle is commonly referred to as the elm bark borer, a reference to the larval habit of mining within the bark of living elm trees, but as far as I can tell this beetle is anything but common. Like the Buprestis confluens that I had found a few days earlier, this was a species known to me only by pinned museum specimens (I’m always amazed when a woodboring beetle species is apparently common enough to warrant a common name and is said to reach pest status in some cases, yet eludes my net for decades!). At any rate, my impression based on these pinned specimens and published images was that the species is another of the many longhorned beetles that seem to mimic ants (Cyrtinus, CyrtophorusEudercesMolorchus, and Tilloclytus being among the others). Like many of these other mimics, the species is dark with small amounts of red and bears polished, ivory-colored ridges at mid-elytra to give the illusion of a narrow waist. After seeing a living individual, however, and especially its behavior—in particular the very wasp-like manner in which it moved its antennae, I’m not so sure that ant mimicry alone explains the appearance and behavior of the species.

Physocnemum brevilineum

A lateral view reveals the beetle, but is it trying to mimic an ant, or a wasp, or both?

Of course, there is no reason why it must be ant mimicry or wasp mimicry (or crypsis, for that matter). Evolution has no rule stating that only one survival strategy can be employed at a time, and if, as it seems to me, the beetle is utilizing both crypsis and mimicry—the first to avoid detection and, failing that, the second to give the potential predator pause, then there is no reason why the mimicry portion of its defense couldn’t be modeling both ants and wasps as a way to maximize an overall “nasty hymenopteran” appearance.

© Ted C. MacRae 2015

Flower ants? Check again!

Last spring while hiking the North Fork Section of the Ozark Trail in southern Missouri (Howell Co.), I made sure to check the abundant flowering dogwood (Cornus florida) blossoms that were in gorgeous peak bloom at the time (early May). I’ve learned to check flowers of dogwood whenever I can, as they are quite attractive to a variety of insects but especially those groups of longhorned beetles (family Cerambycidae) that tend to frequent flowers as adults. In the case of flowering dogwood, most of the cerambycids that I encounter belong to two genera: Molorchus and Euderces. Both of these genera are known for their great resemblance to small ants, no doubt representing examples of Batesian mimicry (where a harmless species adopts the appearance or warning signals of a harmful species to gain protection from predators).

Tilloclytus geminatus

Tilloclytus geminatus on Cornus florida | North Fork Section, Ozark Trail, Howell Co., Missouri

During this particular hike I was determined to photograph Molorchus bimaculatus, common in Missouri during early spring on a great variety of flowering trees. On this day, however, the tiny (<10 mm length) beetles were rather scarce, and I had been frustrated in my attempts to get good photographs of the few that I had found. I’ve seen enough of these beetles over the years that I can recognize them quickly for what they are without the need to closely examine every “ant” that I see. So when I saw an “ant” that was too big and convex in profile to be Molorchus I almost discounted it as a true ant. Something about it, however, gave me pause, and when I looked closer I saw that it was, indeed, a longhorned beetle. But, it was not Molorchus, nor was it Euderces. Instead, it was the species Tilloclytus geminatus—an exciting find!

Tilloclytus geminatus

Adults in profile greatly resemble ants of the same size.

Tilloclytus geminatus has been recorded only sporadically from across the eastern U.S., where it has been reared from a variety of deciduous hardwoods (Craighead 1923, Rice et al. 1985). Perry (1975) did report rearing this species from Pinus virginiana (along with several other species normally associated with hardwoods); however, that record likely represents an ‘‘overflow’’ host (Hespenheide 1969) that is not typical of the species’ normal host preferences. I myself had never seen the species until the years after I published my checklist of Missouri cerambycids (MacRae 1994), having succeeded in rearing adults from a variety of previously unrecorded hardwood hosts that I collected at several localities across southern Missouri (MacRae & Rice 2007). It remains, for me, an infrequently encountered species—perhaps part of this a result of being overlooked due to its effective ant mimicry.

Tilloclytus geminatus

The anterior, oblique markings give the illusion of a constricted “waist”, while the posterior, transverse markings resemble the “sheen” of a shiny abdomen.

Unlike Molorchus and Euderces, this species has not been frequently associated with flowers as adults. In fact, the only report I am aware of is that of Rice et al. (1985), who reported adults on flowers of hawthorn (Crataegus sp.). Perhaps this additional find on Cornus is indicative of a true adult attraction to flowers by T. geminatus, although a single adult provides only weak support. However, a related ant-mimicking longhorned beetle—Cyrtophorus verrucosus—has been collected on flowers of roughleaf dogwood (Cornus drummondii) (MacRae 1994) as well as flowering dogwood (Scheifer 1998a). The floral attraction of ant-mimicking cerambycids may be more characteristic of species in the subfamily Cerambycinae, as only one flower record exists (Physocarpus opulifolius) for Psenocerus supernotatus (Wheeler & Hoebeke 1985) and none exist for Cyrtinus pygmaeus, both in the subfamily Lamiinae rather than Cerambycinae and the only other true ant-mimicking species in Missouri of which I am aware.


Craighead, F. C. 1923. North American cerambycid larvae. A classification and the biology of North American cerambycid larvae. Dominion of Canada, Department of Agriculture, Technical Bulletin No. 27 (new series), 239 pp. [Internet Archive].

Hespenheide, H. A. 1969. Larval feeding site of species of Agrilus (Coleoptera) using
a common host. Oikos 20:558–561 [JSTOR].

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 [pdf].

MacRae, T. C. & M. E. Rice. 2007. Distributional and biological observations on North American Cerambycidae (Coleoptera). The Coleopterists Bulletin 61(2): 227–263 [pdf].

Perry, R. H. 1975. Notes on the long-horned beetles of Virginia, part III (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae). The Coleopterists Bulletin 29(1):59 [JSTOR].

Rice, M. E., R. H. Turnbow Jr. & F. T. Hovore. 1985. Biological and distributional observations on Cerambycidae from the southwestern United States (Coleoptera). The Coleopterists Bulletin 39(1):18–24 [pdf].

Schiefer, T. L. 1998a. A preliminary list of the Cerambycidae and Disteniidae (Coleoptera) of Mississippi. Transactions of the American Entomological Society 124(2):113–131 [JSTOR].

Wheeler, A. G., Jr. & E. R. Hoebeke. 1985. The insect fauna of ninebark, Physocarpus opulifolius (Rosaceae). Proceedings of the Entomological Society of Washington 87(2):356–370 [BioStor].

© Ted C. MacRae 2015

Orange and black on gold

Trigonopeltastes delta on goldenrod (Solidago sp.) flowers | Stoddard Co., Missouri

Trigonopeltastes delta on goldenrod (Solidago sp.) flowers | Stoddard Co., Missouri

The spectacular amorpha borer, Megacyllene decora, was not the only black-and-gold colored beetle that I saw on the flowers of goldenrod (Solidago sp.) a few weeks ago. In addition were several delta flower scarabs, Trigonopeltastes delta. This species is much more commonly encountered than the amorpha borer—not only geographically but also throughout the season on a greater diversity of flowers. Nevertheless, I had failed in my previous attempt to photograph the species at the very same locality just a few weeks earlier due to the much higher summer temperatures and resultant flightiness of the beetles.

Trigonopeltastes delta
In the case of this beetle, the scientific name almost completely describes the beetle—the genus name being derived from the Greek words trigon (i.e., triangle, triangular) and pelt, (i.e., a shield), referring to the triangular and shield-shaped pronotum, and the species name based on the Greek letter Δ (“Delta”) in reference to the distinctive white triangle on the pronotum that resembles it. I mentioned the diversity of flowers on which adults of this beetle can be found. Pascarella et al, (2001) found this species on 13 different plant species (including mass aggregations numbering in the thousands on inflorescences of Sabal palm, Sabal palmetto) in their study of flower-visiting insects in the Everglades National Park. In Missouri, I see these beetles most commonly on Queen Anne’s lace (Daucus carota) and several other plants with white inflorescences such as American feverfew (Parthenium integrifolium), New Jersey tea (Ceanothus americanus), wild hydrangea (Hydrangea arborescens), and—most recently—hairy mallow (Hibiscus lasiocarpos). Interestingly, on this day there was an abundance of white-flowered snakeroot (Eupatorium sp.) in bloom at the same site, but I only saw the beetles on the yellow-flowered goldenrod.

Trigonopeltastes delta
It has been suggested that the Delta pattern on the pronotum and orange-and-black coloration of the elytra combine to mimic the appearance of paper wasps in the genus Polistes. Paper wasps are frequent visitors to many of the same flowers that these beetles frequent; however, the much smaller size of the beetles might suggest mimicry of aculeate hymenopterans (stinging wasps and bees) in general rather than paper wasps specifically. A more unusual type of mimicry has also been suggested in that a rear view of the beetle with its large, white, triangular pygidium seems to resemble the head of a hornet. Supporting this idea is the habit of the beetles to raise and hold their long hind legs in the air when disturbed in a manner that makes them resemble a hornet’s antennae!

Defensive posture with hind legs raised above abdomen.

Defensive posture with hind legs raised above abdomen (iPhone photo).


Pascarella, J. B., Waddington, K. D. & P. R. Neal. 2001. Non-apoid flower-visiting fauna of Everglades National Park, Florida. Biodiversity and Conservation 10(4):551–566 [abstract & pdf link].

© Ted C. MacRae 2014

One-shot Wednesday: swamp milkweed leaf beetle

Labidomera clivicollis on Asclepias incarnata | Hickman Co., Kentucky

Labidomera clivicollis on Asclepias incarnata | Hickman Co., Kentucky

Technically this photograph of Labidomera clivicollis (swamp milkweed leaf beetle) doesn’t qualify as a “one-shot”, as I did take a few other shots as well. However, this was the only shot out of the handful that I didn’t throw away. It’s not perfect—the right front and left rear legs are raised awkwardly, and the lighting is a bit harsh. However, the important parts of the beetle are in focus, the composition is acceptable (with all parts of the beetle within the frame), and there is pleasing value contrast between the orange and black body of the beetle, the green plant on which it sits, and the clear blue sky in the background. The plant’s flowers have even added a smidgen of pink. All of the other photos lacked either focus or composition, neither of which are easily “fixable” in post-processing. The difficulty in getting a better photo is a result of the beetle’s refusal to settle down and stop walking and my lack of desire to spend an inordinate amount of time waiting for this to happen as opposed to finding the insect I was really looking for (more on that in a future post).

I found this beetle on swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) in Hickman Co., Kentucky. As the common name suggests, swamp milkweed is one of the main hosts for this rather large beetle (at least, by leaf beetle standards). However, they can and do feed and develop on other milkweeds, especially common milkweed (A. syriaca), and even related genera such as swallow-wort (Cynanchum) and twinevine (Funastrum) (all belonging the family Asclepiadaceae).

Labidomera clivicollis is part of the orange and black milkweed mimicry complex, which includes monarch butterfly (Danaus plexippus), red milkweed beetles (Tetraopes spp.), large milkweed bug (Oncopeltus fasciatus), small milkweed bug (Lygaeus kalmii), milkweed assassin bug (Zelus longipes), and others. Most of these insects have evolved mechanisms for avoiding or detoxifying cardenolides (produced by milkweed as a defense against herbivores) and sequestering them within their bodies for their own defense against predators. This represents a classic example of a Müllerian mimicry ring, in which multiple insect species—sometimes from different families and even different orders—share a common warning color. Predators learn to avoid these colors and, thus, avoid all of the species within the mimicry ring.

© Ted C. MacRae 2014

My, what busy palps you have!

In mid- to late summer, the swamps of southeast Missouri and adjacent areas along the Mississippi River become awash in color as stands of hairy rose mallow (Hibiscus lasiocarpus) put forth their conspicuous, white and pink blooms. I’ve been waiting for the mallows to bloom this year, as there is one particular beetle associated with plants in this genus that I have been keen to photograph since I first picked up a real camera a few years ago, to this point without success. My first attempt this year came in early August as I noted the tell-tale blooms while passing through extreme western Kentucky. I was foiled again (but would succeed the next day—more on this in a future post), but as I tiptoed over the soggy ground searching through the lush foliage, I saw a small, brightly colored cricket with curiously enlarged mouthparts. Even more interesting was the constant, almost frenetic manner in which the insect was moving these mouthparts. My first attempts to detach the leaf on which it was moving spooked it, and it jumped to another leaf, but I persisted and finally succeeded in detaching the leaf with the critter still upon it and maneuvering it up towards the sky for a few photographs.

Phyllopalpus pulchellus (red-headed bush cricket) | Hickman Co., Kentucky

Phyllopalpus pulchellus (red-headed bush cricket or “handsome trig”) | Hickman Co., Kentucky

It didn’t take long to identify the cricket as Phyllopalpus pulchellus, or “red-headed bush cricket” (family Gryllidae). This species, also known as the “handsome trig” on account of its stunning appearance and membership in the subfamily Trigonidiinae, is distinctive among all North American orthopterans by its red head and thorax, pale legs, dark wings, and—as already noted—highly modified maxillary palpi with the greatly expanded and paddle-like terminal segment. According to Capinera et al. (2004), adults appear during mid- to late summer near streams and marshes on vegetation about one meter above the ground—precisely as this individual was found. Surely it represents one of our most photographed cricket species (208 BugGuide photos and counting).

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

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

The obvious question to anyone who sees this species is, “Why the curiously enlarged palps?” Both males and females exhibit this character (even as juveniles), so it seems clear that there is no special sexual or hypersensory function. One idea mentioned on BugGuide (perhaps originating from this EOL post by Patrick Coin) suggests that the crickets are Batesian mimics of chemically-defended ground beetles (family Carabidae) such as bombardier beetles (genus Brachinus). This thought is based on their similar coloration, the convex and shiny (and, thus, beetle-like) forewings of the females, and some resemblance of the enlarged palpi to the mandibles of the beetles. I am not completely satisfied with this idea, since bombardier beetles are generally found on the ground rather than foliage. Moreover, males lack the convex, shiny forewings exhibited by females, and resemblance of the palps to beetle mandibles doesn’t explain their curiously constant movement (ground beetles don’t constantly move their mandibles). Another idea suggested by orthopterist (and insect macrophotographer extraordinaire!) Piotr Naskrecki is a mimetic association with another group of arthropods, noting that the busy movements of the palps is very similar to the way jumping spiders (family Salticidae) move their pedipalps. This suggestion also is not completely satisfying, as it leaves one wondering why the crickets are so boldly and conspicuously colored. While some jumping spiders are brightly colored, I’m not aware of any in eastern North America with similar coloration (indeed, many jumping spiders can be considered ‘drab’). Perhaps the crickets have adopted mimetic strategies using multiple models in their efforts to avoid predation?

The brown wings and long, sickle-shaped ovipositor identify this individual as a female.

The brown wings and sickle-shaped ovipositor identify this individual as a female.

The individual in these photos can be identified as a female due to the presence of the sickle-shaped ovipositor and, as mentioned above, the convex, shiny forewings. Males possess more typically cricket-like forewings, perhaps constrained to such shape by the sound producing function they must serve. The males do, however, exhibit an interesting dimorphism of the forewings, with one wing being clear and the other one black. Fellow St. Louisan and singing insect enthusiast James C. Trager notes this dimorphism has been mentioned in the literature but not explained and suggests it may have something to do with the adaptive physics of sound production.

Congratulations to Ben Coulter, who wins Super Crop Challenge #16, which featured a cropped close-up of the enlarged maxillary palpi of this insect. His 12 pts increase his lead in the overall standings for BitB Challenge Session #7 to an almost insurmountable 59 pts. Morgan Jackson and Troy Bartlett round out the podium with 10 and 9 pts, respectively—Troy’s points being enough to move him into 2nd place in the overalls with 23 pts. Third place in the overalls is still up for grabs, since none of the people occupying the 3rd through 6th places has played for awhile—realistically any number of people behind them could jump onto the podium (or even grab 2nd place!) in the next (and probably last) Session #7 challenge.


Capinera, J. L., R. D. Scott & T. J. Walker. 2004. Field Guide To Grasshoppers, Katydids, And Crickets Of The United States. Cornell University Press, Ithaca, New York, 249 pp. [Amazon].

© Ted C. MacRae 2014

A belated Happy Birthday

It seems that November 24th came and went without me even realizing that BitB turned six years old that day! Six years—wow, has it really been that long? I guess forgetting birthdays officially puts me in the old-timer camp (both as a person and as a blogger). No fanfare or celebration. Instead, I blithely wrote my 778th post (Q: How do you photograph cactus beetles?) and carried on as usual.

I guess it’s too late now to make a big deal of it, but I will make the observation that November 2013, with its 15 posts, was one of my heaviest blogging months ever (the most since 18 posts in December 2012 and the overall high of 21 in April 2010). This may come as a surprise to those who have heard me grouse periodically about the decline of blogging, both of my blog in particular and as a platform in general. It’s a different world than it was when I started BitB—Twitter and Facebook have taken over much of the social interaction that used to take place on blogs, relegating the latter primarily to satisfying a small but persistent niche demand for long-content. Throughout the course of these changes, however, motivation to blog still comes to me consistently and often. Mostly it seems to be an internal need to express myself, but the occasional and very much appreciated feedback in the form of comments and emails also helps. So, with that, thank you for the past six years, and here’s looking at the next six!

Enough blather—here are a few colorful net-winged beetles in the genus Calopteron (family Lycidae) to help with the celebration. They were photographed in northern Argentina (Chaco Province) in April 2012 while visiting flowers of Chilean goldenrod (Solidago chilensis). I’m not sure if they represent more than one species, as the taxonomy of the genus in the Neotropics appears to be very poorly known at this time—if so it would seem there exists in this area a mimicry complex that is ripe for study.

Calopteron sp. on flowers of Solidago chilensis| Chaco Province, Argentina

Calopteron sp. on flowers of Solidago chilensis | Chaco Province, Argentina

Calopteron sp. on flowers of Solidago chilensis| Chaco Province, Argentina

Calopteron sp. on flowers of Solidago chilensis | Chaco Province, Argentina

Calopteron sp. on flowers of Solidago chilensis| Chaco Province, Argentina

Calopteron sp. on flowers of Solidago chilensis | Chaco Province, Argentina

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2013