If you are in the Champaign, Illinois area on Tuesday, 29 October 2013, I will be giving a seminar as part of the Illinois Natural History Survey Fall 2013 Seminar Series. I hope to see you there!
My thanks to Dr. Sam Heads for extending to me the invitation and to Jennifer Mui for preparing the very nice poster and attending to travel details.
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2013
Araneus sp. | Wildwood, St. Louis Co., Missouri
Letting the dog out tonight, I encountered this spider—presumably in the genus Araneus—who had strung up her web in the corner of the doorway and was eerily backlit when I turned on the porch light. Without a tripod that would allow me to position the camera about 7′ above the floor and make use of a super long exposure, my only option for capturing the scene hand-held was to crank the ISO all the way up to 3200, ratchet down the shutter speed to 1/20th sec, and open up the aperture to f/5.6 (any lower and the shallow depth of field would have been unacceptable). Heavy-handed processing to reduce noise and increase sharpness yielded a serviceable photo; however, I’ve been thinking about getting a tripod lately, and the chance to produce much better versions of scenes like this only strengthen those thoughts.
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2013
The following is a guest post by my friend Kent Fothergill. Read more of Kent’s musings at his blog, biologistsoup.
Observation is a key activity in scientific inquiry. People who work with insects can make many interesting observations from collected insects: distribution, phenology, etc. Observations can be documented and analyzed later from photographs. A collection of photographs can also yield information about: associations with other species, behavior, while providing the same information as collected specimens – as such photography is a new tool changing entomology. Of course, most observations are made using only human senses without photographic or specimen documentation, but all observations can be subject to biases.
Observer biases are our evolutionary legacy. Our brains evolved to process and interpret data based on patterns observed in previously processed data. Because of the vast amount of data flowing in from our five senses and our limited ability to focus on data, our brains let most data be background. Even the subset of data that we focus our attention on is filtered, who hasn’t taken a photograph and found something much more interesting in the photograph than the original subject (e.g., these mites on harvestmen)? All data, even the data subset we are focused on can be misinterpreted. When teaching scientific methods, my students always enjoyed the optical illusion exercises to demonstrate why objective analyses and accurate measurement are important.
Remember, that the brain also compares incoming data to previous data. This allows pattern recognition. Recently, Ted and I were blacklighting along the Mississippi River in Southeast Missouri. We found a pair of Elaphidion mucronatum (spiny oak borer) a very common insect in Southeast Missouri. So common that many would move on to other more interesting subjects at that point. The insects were in a mate guarding situation. Because I had a name for the behavior, my brain put my observation in the mate guarding category. At this point I would have moved on, except Ted wished to document the subject with his camera rig, which meant I would do what any friend should: watch the insects while Ted ran to vehicle to get his camera so he would be able to photograph them. While Ted was gone things got interesting. The male was positioned above the female, who was more or less caged between his legs. The pair was moving in unison on the tree trunk with very little actual contact between the pair. This was interesting, but when the female E. mucronatum suddenly shot out from under the male ending up 10’ vertical below him on the side of the tree trunk I was stunned. The male covered this distance with amazing speed and recaptured the female. After a couple minutes the female again shot out from under went down a few feet and doubled back ending out of sight above the male. At this point the male remained motionless for a brief period. When Ted came back with his camera, I took my eyes off of the male to tell him about what I had seen, and the male had vacated the area. Later, on the very same tree, we saw a mate guarding pair (presumably the same individuals) coming down towards us.
I have viewed many mate guarding insects. Mate guarding is a male insect using its body to prevent other males from mating with this female. Evolutionary biologists will explain mate guarding behavior in terms of enhanced male reproductive success, and that is why mate guarding persists. I never questioned this explanation, but should have. The E. mucronatum observation caused me to see mate guarding in a new way and realize that mate guarding involves a male and female component – I know this seems obvious, but I had my own cultural bias to overcome in this regard. I had never considered that mate guarding could involve non-willing females.
Based on a 10 minute observation of a very common insect my new understanding of mate guarding now recognizes that mate guarding influences female fitness also. Mate guarding persists when it creates a change in fitness in the male and female such that there is a positive net change in fitness for reproductive output for all individuals involved. In the case I witnessed, there may actually be a reproductive cost for the female and that is why she tried to avoid/escape the mate guarding. I have much more to learn about mate guarding.
Science is a way of objectively seeing the world and testing what you have seen to approach truth. This observation of E. mucronatum was also a mirror that showed my cultural bias and how that bias influenced my interpretation of my observations. For me, this observation could be a watershed event.
The moral(s) of this story:
Copyright © Kent Fothergill 2013
Agrilus fuscipennis may not be the largest or the prettiest member of the genus occurring in Missouri (that honor is reserved for Agrilus concinnus, or “hibiscus jewel beetle”—MacRae 2004). Nevertheless, it comes pretty darned close! Add to that the fact that it is among our most seldom encountered jewel beetles, and you can understand how excited I was to see this species on my sheet after beating a small persimmon (Diospyros virginiana) tree last weekend at Hercules Glades Wilderness in the White River Hills of extreme southwestern Missouri. In fact, I have only collected this species three times previously—all single specimens beaten from persimmon, and all back in the 1980s!
Jewel beetles are unquestionably popular among insect collectors, due no doubt in large part to their vivid, metallic colors. I think the family, however, would be even more popular were it not for the genus Agrilus. Fully one in five species of jewel beetles belongs to this genus, which at nearly 3,000 described species and counting (Bellamy 2008) is perhaps the largest genus in the entire animal kingdom. As might be expected, such hyperdiversity has resulted in taxonomic quagmire, with species limits difficult to define and many hardly distinguishable except by examination of male genitalia (MacRae 2003). Additionally, in contrast to the rest of the family which is generally recognized as containing some of the most spectacularly beautiful beetles in the world, the most species of Agrilus are small, usually less than 8 mm in length and often as small as only 4–5 mm, and also lack the vivid colors (at least, to the naked eye) for which the rest of the family is so noted.
Agrilus fuscipennis is one of several species that buck this general Agrilus theme. While not forming a discrete taxonomic group within the genus, they are all unified by the following characteristics: 1) relatively large for the genus (A. fuscipennis measures 12–14 mm length), 2) vivid red pronotum and black elytra, and 3) mine the lower trunks, crown and main roots of living rather than dead host plants. For A. fuscipennis the larval host is persimmon, and other similar species include A. vittaticollis on serviceberry (Amelanchier) and A. concinnus on wild hibiscus (Hibiscus). These other species also are not very commonly encountered, at least in my experience, perhaps partly because they are not as easily reared from their hosts as species that develop as larvae in dead wood (the latter can be easily reared by retrieving infested wood from the field and placing in containers to trap emerging adults).
In the interest of full disclosure, these photos were taken in the studio after returning home. Although the persimmon branch is real, the “blue sky” is actually just a colored index card. I prefer to photograph insects in the field, especially with insects such as tiger beetles where it is desirable to include elements of the insect’s natural habitat in the photograph. However, I don’t have a problem with studio photography if field photographs prove too difficult or time-consuming or present too high a risk of escape by a prize specimen. My normal protocol for the latter is to place the first individual in a vial and continue to search for another that I will then try to photograph in the field. If that doesn’t work then I still have the first individual as a backup for studio photographs. In the case of this beetle, I found it on the very first clump of persimmon that I beat but never saw another despite beating persimmon for the rest of the afternoon (just like the three I found separately back in the 80s)! I have plans to photograph A. concinnus later this summer on its Hibiscus host plant in southeastern Missouri—hopefully I will succeed in getting true field photographs of that species.
REFERENCES:
Bellamy, C. L. 2008. World catalogue and bibliography of the jewel beetles (Coleoptera: Buprestoidea), Volume 4: Agrilinae: Agrilina through Trachyini. Pensoft Series Faunistica 79:1–722.
MacRae, T. C. 1991. The Buprestidae (Coleoptera) of Missouri. Insecta Mundi 5(2):101–126.
MacRae, T. C. 2004. Beetle bits: Hunting the elusive “hibiscus jewel beetle”. Nature Notes, Journal of the Webster Groves Nature Study Society 76(5):4–5.
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2013
Leptostylus transversus | Holly Ridge Conservation Area, Stoddard Co., Missouri
The longhorned beetle subfamily Lamiinae is one of the few subfamilies in the beetle world to have its own common name—flatfaced longhorns. This photo of one of its members, Leptostylus transversus, doesn’t show the character very well, but as with all members of the subfamily the face is completely vertical, a condition called “orthognathous” (mouthparts directed downwards), while all other longhorned beetles exhibit a more prognathous (mouthparts directed forward) condition. (A third possible condition, opisthognathous, refers to mouthparts directed backwards, a condition not occurring in longhorned beetles but common in leafmining species of jewel beetles and leaf beetles.)
I beat this individual this past May from dead branches at Holly Ridge Conservation Area in Stoddard Co., Missouri. Leptostylus transversus belongs to the tribe Acanthocinini, one of the largest tribes in the family and incredibly diverse in the tropics. Most members of this tribe are colored like mottled bark, as is this one, with many also exhibiting tubercles, erect setae or tufts of setae that combine to give the beetles a rather warty appearance. I presume the combination of coloration and irregular outline contributes to their overall cryptic appearance.
When I studied the longhorned beetle fauna of Missouri (MacRae 1994), this was one of the most common species that I encountered (268 specimens from throughout Missouri were examined). Despite its abundance, two interesting features were noted for this species. Firstly, it exhibits a distinctly bimodal temporal occurrence, with most of the specimens I examined being captured either during March through June or September through October and almost none during July or August. I am not aware or many (any?) other species, at least in Missouri, that exhibit such a strongly bimodal occurrence. There are several possible explanations, such as the occurrence of two generations per year or an adult “aestivation” (summer hibernation) period, but I think it more likely that adults emerge primarily during late summer and fall, overwinter as adults, and then become active again the following spring. This latter suggestion seems to be supported by reared specimens in my collection, the great majority of which have emerged from their hosts after mid-August.
The second interesting feature of this species is its extreme polyphagy. Many longhorned beetles are quite polyphagous, but most still utilize primarily angiosperms or gymnosperms and not both. Leptostylus transversus, on the other hand, shows no preference for either group—specimens in my collection have been reared from the angiosperms Amelanchier arborea (serviceberry), Carya ovata (shagbark hickory) and Diospyros virginiana (persimmon) and the gymnosperms Juniperus virginiana (eastern red-cedar), Pinus echinata (shortleaf pine), and P. sylvestris (Scots pine). In fact, even most species that prefer gymnosperms tend to utilize either pine or juniper but not both.
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.
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2013
I’m back home after my week-long collecting trip to western Oklahoma, and at the risk of sounding hyperbolous I can only describe it as one of the most successful collecting trips I’ve ever had. Seriously! These kinds of trips don’t happen all that often for a variety of reasons—timing is off, rains didn’t happen, weather was uncooperative, etc. etc. Once in a while, though, everything comes together, and this was one of those times. The trip was also a return to my roots so to speak—I’ve been rather distracted in recent years with tiger beetles, but jewel beetles (family Buprestidae) and, to a lesser extent longhorned beetles (family Cerambycidae), are really the primary focus of my taxonomic studies. It had been several years since I’d had a good “jewel beetle trip,” so that was the focus of this trip. In planning the trip, I recalled seeing jewel beetle workings in several woody plant species in the same area during last September’s trip, and the occurrence of May rains seemed to bode well for my early June timing.
Gloss Mountains State Park, Major Co., Oklahoma
My instincts proved to be justified—in seven days in the field I collected an estimated 1000–1500 specimens representing at least two dozen species of Buprestidae and a dozen or more Cerambycidae. More important than the numbers, I collected a number of species in good series that I have either not or only rarely collected before, and in fact the second beetle that I collected turned out to be a new state record! Of course, I also brought along my full-sized camera and associated gear and photographed many of the species that I collected. I will feature these photos in future posts, but for this post I thought it might be fun to give a high level view of the trip illustrated only with photos taken with my iPhone (which I also carry religiously in the field with me). The iPhone is great for quick snaps of scenery and miscellaneous plants and animals for which I don’t feel like breaking out the big camera, or as a prelude to the big camera for something I’d like to share right away on Facebook. Moreover, there are some types of photos (landscapes and wide-angles) that iPhones actually do quite well (as long as there is sufficient light!).
Atop the main mesa at Gloss Mountains State Park, Major Co., Oklahoma
My first destination was Gloss Mountains State Park (Major Co.), a stunning system of gypsum-capped, red-clay mesas. I’ve already found a number of rare tiger beetles here such as Cylindera celeripes (Swift Tiger Beetle), Amblycheila cylindriformis (Great Plains Giant Tiger Beetle) and Dromochorus pruinina (Frosted Dromo Tiger Beetle), and in the past two falls I’ve found two interesting jewel beetle records: Chrysobothris octocola as a new state record, and Acmaeodera macra as a northern range extension. On this trip, I started out beating the mesquite (Prosopis glandulosa) and immediately got the longhorned beetle Plionoma suturalis—a new state record! They were super abundant on the mesquite, and I collected several dozen specimens along with numerous C. octocola as well. I then moved over to the red-cedar (Juniperus virginiana), which was showing a high incidence of branch dieback, and collected nice series of several buprestids, including what I believe to be Chrysobothis ignicollis and C. texanus. Up on top of the mesa there are small stands of hackberry (Celtis laevigata) and soapberry (Sapindus saponaria), both of which are very good hosts for Buprestidae. Not much was on the soapberry, but I beat large series of several Buprestidae from the hackberry, including what I believe to be Chrysobothris caddo and—the real prize—Paratyndaris prosopis! My old friend C. celeripes was also out in abundance, so I collected a series to add to my previous vouchers from this site. Back down below, I marveled at a juvenile western diamondback rattlesnake (Crotalus atrox) in the area where I found some more A. cylindriformis larval burrows. Daylight ran out before I could dig them up, and after 11 hours in the field I was exhausted, so I returned the next morning and got one 1st- and two 3rd-instar larvae and went back up on top of the mesa and beat several more P. prosopis from the hackberry.
Bullsnake (Pituophis catenifer sayi) | Alabaster Cavern State Park, Woodward Co., Oklahoma
My second stop was at Alabaster Cavern State Park (Woodward Co.), where C. celeripes was again abundant on the gypsum-clay exposures surrounding an impressive gorge thought to be a collapsed cave complex. I focused on beating hackberry because of the success with buprestids on this plant at Gloss Mountains SP, and although they were not quite as abundant here as at Gloss Mountains I still managed to end up with good series of C. caddo and several species of Agrilus. Because I had spent the morning at Gloss Mountains, I had only a partial day to explore Alabaster Caverns and, still getting used to the weight of the camera bag on my back, decided to leave the big camera in the car. This was a mistake, as I encountered my first ever bullsnake (Pituophis catenifer sayi) and had to settle for iPhone photos of this species—the photo above being the best of the bunch. An approaching storm put an end to my second day after another 10 hours in the field, and I drove an hour to Woodward.
Moneilema sp. on Opuntia macrorhiza | Alabaster Cavern State Park, Woodward Co., Oklahoma
My third day started out at nearby Boiling Springs State Park, a riparian oasis on sandy alluvium alongside the nearby Cimarron River. The woodlands are dominated by hackberry and American elm, and although a few buprestids were beaten from hackberry and honey locust (Gleditisia triacanthos), the numbers and diversity were not enough to hold my interest in the spot. After lunch, I decided to return to Alabaster Caverns SP and explore some other areas I had not had a chance to explore during the previous partial day. It’s a good thing that I did, as I ended up finding a nice population of longhorned cactus beetles in the genus Moneilema associated with prickly pear cactus (Opuntia macrorhiza). I collected a nice series of adults and also learned a few lessons in how to photograph these beetles on their viciously protective host plants. The photo above gives a taste of what will come in the photos that I took with the big camera. After eight hours in the field and darkness falling, I drove two hours to Forgan in Beaver Co.
Beaver Dunes State Park, Beaver Co., Oklahoma
Day 4 in the field started out cold and ominous, having stormed heavily during the previous night and with thick clouds still hanging in the sky. I feared the day might be a wash but decided to venture to Beaver Dunes State Park anyway and take my chances (beating can still be productive even in cold weather as long as the foliage is not wet). It’s a good thing that I did, as the buprestids were as numerous as I’ve ever seen them. The park’s central feature is a system of barren sand dunes that are frequented by ORV enthusiasts and surrounded by hackberry woodlands. The park also has a reservoir and campground, around which are growing a number of cottonwoods (Populus deltoides).
Hackberry Bend Campground, Beaver Dunes State Park, Beaver Co., Oklahoma
These hackberrys and cottonwoods proved to be extraordinarily productive. On the former I collected large series of several species of Chrysobothris and Agrilus, and while I collected fewer Buprestidae on the latter, these included Agrilus quadriguttatus and Poecilonota cyanipes! The latter species I had never collected until last year (from Cerceris fumipennis wasps), and beating the lower branches of the declining cottonwoods produced a series of about a dozen specimens. I also got one specimen on black willow (Salix nigra), along with a few Chrysobothris sp. and what I take to be Agrilus politus. Also in a low branch of one of the cottonwoods was a bird’s nest with a single egg that, according to Facebook comments, either represents the American Robin or a Gray Catbird. (I returned the next day and saw two eggs in the same nest.)
American Robin or Gray Catbird nest w/ egg | Beaver Dunes State Park, Beaver Co., Oklahoma
As the day drew to a close, I found two interesting longhorned beetle species at the edge of the dunes: one large, powdery gray Tetraopes sp. on milkweed (Asclepias sp.), and huge numbers of Batyle ignicollis evidently perched on the yellow spiked inflorescence of an as yet undetermined plant. I have seen this species on many occasions, but always in low numbers, yet here were literally hundreds of individuals on the plants, all having assumed a characteristic pose on the inflorescence suggesting that they had bedded down for the night. I only spent eight hours in the field on this day because of the late start, and as darkness approached I began the two-hour drive to Boise City.
Sculpted sandstone landscape in the vicinity of Black Mesa State Park, Cimarron Co., Oklahoma
The final two days in the field were supposed to be spent exploring the area around Black Mesa in the extreme northwest corner of Oklahoma, and another hour of driving was needed to get to the area from Boise City. I first went to Black Mesa State Park, and while the landscape was stunning (see above) the area was extremely dry. I feared the collecting would not be at all productive in this area but wanted to give the area a good effort before making a call. As I approached the entrance to the park, I saw a jeep parked by the side of the road with a license plate that read “Schinia,” which I recognized as a genus of noctuid moths that are very popular with collectors. I pulled over and talked to the driver, who was indeed a lepidopterist from Denver and had just arrived himself. We talked and exchanged contact information, and learning of my interest in beetles he directed me to a small stand of Gambel oak (Quercus gambelii) and one-seed juniper (Juniperus monosperma) on a sculpted sandstone escarpment not far from the park. I found the spot, and although I beat three Chrysobothris sp. from the first juniper tree that I whacked, another hour of beating produced only one more beetle from the juniper and nothing from the oak. I returned to the spot where we had met and encountered him again on his way out! We stopped and chatted again and found a few specimens of what I take to be Typocerus confluens on the yellow asters, but by then I was having my doubts about staying in the area. I told him I was going to check out a ravine in the park and then decide.
Petrified forest | Black Mesa State Park, Cimarron Co., Oklahoma
The petrified forest ended up being the only interesting thing I found in the ravine—the area was so dry that I think even the real trees were almost petrified! At any rate, it was clear that I was not going to have much success in this area. I looked at my watch, knowing that it would take three hours to drive back to Beaver Dunes, and estimated that if I left now I could get in about three hours of collecting at Beaver Dunes where I’d had so much success the previous day. Thus, I did what I rarely do on a collecting trip—drive during the afternoon!
The main dune at Beaver Dunes State Park, Beaver Co., Oklahoma.
A chunky grasshopper nymph inhabiting the main dune.
I arrived back at Beaver Dunes with several hours of daylight still remaining, so I decided to take a look around the main dunes before heading towards the woody plants. I’ve actually visited Beaver Dunes previously, on the tail end of a fall tiger beetle trip in 2011. At that time I had seen only the rather common and widespread species Cicindela formosa (Big Sand Tiger Beetle) and C. scutellaris (Festive Tiger Beetle), but I thought there could still be a chance to see the much less common C. lengi (Blowout Tiger Beetle). Early June, however, is a little late to see the spring tigers, and in fact I saw only a single C. formosa. Nevertheless, I find dune habitats irresistible—alien habitats occupied by strange plants and animals, and I spent a bit of time exploring the main dune before heading back towards where I had collected so many Buprestidae the previous day.
Low water levels in the reservoir at Beaver Dunes are a result of three years of drought.
Western Oklahoma, like many parts of the central U.S., has suffered rather severe drought conditions for the past several years. This was evident not only in the large amount of branch dieback seen in the woody vegetation of the area (and probably a contributor to my success at collecting Buprestidae) but also the very low water level in the park reservoir. In the photo above the small cottonwood saplings in the foreground and large cottonwood trees in the left background indicate the normal water level. Cottonwoods, of course, like to keep their feet wet, and the trees around this reservoir—left high and dry by the drought—have responded with major branch dieback and lots of subsequent adventitious sprouting at the bases of the main branches. It was from this adventitious growth that I had beaten most of the Poecilonota cyanipes that I collected the previous day, so I repeated the cottonwood circuit in the hopes of collecting more. Not only did I collect more, but I collected twice as many as the previous day, so I ended up with a very nice series of more than two dozen individuals of the species from the two days collecting. I also did a little more beating of the hackberry trees which had produced well the previous day and collected several more Chrysobothris caddo, C. purpureovittata, and Agrilus spp. such as A. lecontei, A. paracelti, and perhaps others. When I arrived I was unsure whether I would stay here the following day, but eventually I decided I had sampled the area about as well as I could and that I would go back to the Gloss Mountains for my last day in Oklahoma. Thus, as the day began to wane I began hiking back to the car and spent the next two hours driving back to Woodward to spend the night.
Steep slope below the main mesa | Gloss Mountains State Park, Major Co., Oklahoma
Echinocereus sp. | Gloss Mountains State Park, Major Co., Oklahoma
Arriving at the Gloss Mountains the next morning was like coming home! I’ve spent so much time at this place and found so many great insects, yet every time I come here I find something new. Today, however, my goals were more modest—I wanted to improve on my series of Paratyndaris prosopis and Chrysobothris texanus, so I focused most of my time beating the hackberry and juniper on top of the mesa and continued beating the juniper down below as well. Success! I collected four more Paratyndaris off of the hackberry, but the C. texanus were far more abundant on this day than they were earlier in the week—I probably got another two dozen individuals of this species. Of course, I also got distracted taking photographs of a number of things, so the day went far more quickly than I realized. I wanted to leave around 6 pm and get in about three hours of driving so that I would have time to make it into Missouri the next morning and have a nice chunk of time to collect before finishing the drive and arriving home on Saturday night. It was actually closer to 7:30 pm before I hit the road, the reason for the delay being the subject of a future post (I will say that BioQuip’s extendable net handle comes in handy for much more than collecting tiger beetles!).
Dolomite glades | Hercules Glades Wilderness, Taney Co., Missouri
Long Creek | Hercules Glades Wilderness, Taney Co., Missouri
For my last day of collecting, I decided to stop by at one of my favorite spots in the White River Hills of extreme southwestern Missouri—Hercules Glades Wilderness in the Mark Twain National Forest. I’ve been to this place a number of times over the years, but in recent years my visits have usually been late in the season to look for the always thrilling to see Cicindelidia obsoleta vulturina (Prairie Tiger Beetle). It had actually been about 25 years since I’d visited these glades during the spring, and because of the success I’d had collecting in Oklahoma I was really optimistic that I would find the same here. Sadly (and inexplicably), insect activity was very low, and it didn’t take long for this to become apparent as branch after branch that I beat along the trail through the dry-mesic forest down to Long Creek yielded nothing. By the time I got to the creek I still had not collected a single beetle. A consolation prize was found along the creek, as beating the ninebark (Physocarpos opulifolius) produced a few specimens of the pretty little Dicerca pugionata, and a couple more consolation prizes were found further up the trail approaching the main glade when I saw a Cylindera unipunctata (One-spotted Tiger Beetle) run across the trail and then beat a single Agrilus fuscipennis from a small persimmon (Diospyros virginiana) tree at the edge of the glades. It had been about 25 years since I last collected the latter species, so I was very happy to see it, but no more were seen despite beating every persimmon tree that I saw during the rest of the day. At the end of the day, I had hiked seven miles and collected only six beetles—a rather inauspicious ending to what was otherwise a wonderfully successful trip.
The author takes a rare ”selfie” at Gloss Mountains State Park.
Arriving back at the car at the end of the day on the last day of an extended collecting trip is always a little depressing—despite the vagaries of travel, cheap hotel beds, meals on the go, and general exhaustion, I’m never happier than I am when I am in the field. Still, the success that I’d had during this trip did much to ease my depression, and arriving home late that night and seeing my girls again (who waited up for me!) finished off any remaining depression.
© Ted C. MacRae 2013
Phymatodes amoenus (Coleoptera: Cerambycidae) | Stoddard Co., Missouri
When Enus (Enoclerus ichneumoneus) was beaten from a dead grape vine in southeastern Missouri, he wasn’t alone. Along with him was this longhorned beetle representing Phymatodes amoenus (family Cerambycidae). Even though P. amoenus and E. ichneumoneus are both woodboring beetles, their association together on this dead grape vine was not purely coincidental. Phymatodes amoenus is associated exclusively with the genus Vitis (family Vitaceae), its larvae developing within the dead vines. Enoclerus ichneumoneus also bores through dead wood in the larval stage but is much less discriminating about the plant species. This is because E. ichneumoneus and most other checkered beetles (family Cleridae) don’t actually eat the wood within which they are tunneling, but rather prey upon the other woodboring beetle larvae that they encounter in the wood. The adult checkered beetles are thus attracted to dead wood not as a food source itself, but rather the woodboring larvae that will provide food for their offspring.
Half an antenna and the left mesotarsus were the price to pay for rooming with Enus!
When I collected these two individuals, I put them together in a vial as I continued beating the vine to look for other individuals. None were found, but I had forgotten that adult checkered beetles also are predaceous. Needless to say, Enus found the cerambycid beetle to be easy pickings while they were confined together and managed to eat half of the cerambycid’s left antenna and left mesotarsus before I realized my oversight and rescued the poor thing.
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2013
It may be quiet here at Beetles in the Bush for the next week or so while Ted is off in the far corners of Oklahoma looking for beetles to photograph and add to his collection. In the meantime, meet Enus (full name Enoclerus ichneumoneus), a checkered beetle who was beaten from a dead grapevine (Vitis sp.) in southeastern Missouri and who has promised Ted he will keep a close eye on things while Ted is away.
Enoclerus ichneumoneus | Stoddard Co., Missouri
Beetles in Oklahoma had better watch out!
© Ted C. MacRae 2013
Beetles In The Bush 