- What is my name?
- Where do I live?
- Who do I hang with?
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010
nature
Hawn State Park – Winter Hiking at its Finest
Two weekends ago we received another wave in what has been an unusually frequent series of snow events. I’m sure my northern (and Patagonian) friends are not impressed, but at our middlin’ latitudes snow falls rather infrequently and rarely sticks around for long when it does. This winter has been different, with snowfall almost every week, it seems like, and temperatures that have remained cold enough to keep it around for awhile. While this latest snowfall measured only a modest 1-2 inches here in the St. Louis area, a 7-inch blanket (as measured by my hiking stick) fell in the Ozark Highlands just south of here. Coming as it did at the start of the weekend, I welcomed the opportunity to go for a hike — among my favorite wintertime activities — in a landscape that is rarely seen covered in deep, newly-fallen snow. My daughter Madison loves hiking as much as I do (even in deep snow), so the two of us headed off to perhaps my favorite of Missouri’s public areas, Hawn State Park. I have long adored Hawn for its premier hiking, facinating geology, and unusual flora, and everytime I visit Hawn I find something new to love about it.
Lamotte sandstone outcrops on the White Oaks Trail
Such was the case on this visit, when Madison and I decided to explore the White Oaks Trail, a newer trail that I had not yet hiked. I was a little concered whether we would even be able to get to the park, as the road leading into it had only been partially plowed (and we had already seen one car off the road, causing me to reach down and switch on the 4-wheel drive). Most of the park was snowed in, but we were able to reach the uppermost parking area, leaving our snow-covered trail-finding abilities as the last obstacle to overcome. After studying the trail map and looking at different route options, I asked Madison if she wanted to hike 2 miles, 4 miles, or 6 miles. She immediately blurted out “6 miles!”, so off we went. I was disappointed to see that we were not the first persons to have the idea, as we entered the trail only to find two sets of footprints (one human, one canid) leading off in front of us. It did, however, make following the trail easier, and in fact I’ve had enough experience finding trails through the Ozark Highlands that I never felt like I needed the footprints in front of us to point the direction.
Madison next to the root wad of an 83-yr old wind-thrown oak tree.
The White Oaks Trail followed nicely up-and-down terrain through mature white oak (Querucs alba) (appropriately) upland forest dissected by small riparian valleys before settling into relatively mild terrain through monotonous black oak forest. Just when I thought the trail wouldn’t match the splendor of Hawn’s Whispering Pines and Pickle Creek Trails, it wrapped around to the south at the far end and passed by a beautiful hoo-doo complex of Lamotte sandstone outcroppingss supporting majestic, widely-spaced, mature shortleaf pines (Pinus echinata). The rock outcrops provided a perfect spot to break for lunch while looking out on the deep, snow-covered valley in front of us.
More Lamotte sandstone exposures along Pickle Creek, Whispering Pines Trail.
After counting a cut, wind-thrown black oak (Quercus velutinus) and determining a lifespan of 83 years, we took a connector trail down to the Whispering Pines Trail where it ran alonside the incomparably beautiful Pickle Creek. Our hope was to hike down to the igneous shut-ins, where hard, pink rhyolites channeled the creek’s clear, spring-fed waters through narrow chutes and miniature gorges. Upstream from the shut-ins, Pickle Creek runs lazily through the softer Lamotte sandstones that overlay those ancient rhyolites, combining with the snow cover to create a scene as peaceful and serene as any I’ve ever witnessed.
Pickle Creek meanders lazily through Whispering Pines Wild Area.
Just above the shut-ins, Pickle Creek bends to the west, carving deeply into the soft sandstone. The porous nature of the rock allows moisture to trickle through and between the strata from the hillside above, creating seep zones that weaken underlying layers and lead to their collapse. The abundant moisture this winter and continuous cycles of daytime thawing and nighttime freezes have resulted in extraordinary ice formations along the bluff face and underneath the overhanging layers, the likes of which are rarely seen in our normally more open winters. Compare the scene in the first photo below with that in the second, taken at almost exactly the same spot one year ago in February 2009.
Icicle formations along Pickle Creek, Whispering Pines Trail.
Same place as above in February 2009.
Ice rarely forms over the small ponds and lakes that dot the Ozark Highlands, much less its creeks and other moving waters. The scene below of Pickle Creek as it exits the sandstone gorge is a testament to the slowness of its movements and the unusually consistent cold temperatures experienced during the past several weeks. Only a short distance downstream, however, these lazy waters reach the bottommost layers of the erodable sandstones and encounter the hard rhyolites below. These half-a-billion year old layers of igneous rock are much more resistant to the wearing action of water, which rushes noisily through narrowly-carved chutes before fanning out in broad sheets over smooth, steep slopes below.
Pickle Creek along Whispering Pines Trail.
Sadly, there would not be time to visit the shut-ins. The short February day conspired with our snow-slowed pace to leave us with a too-low-sun by the time we reached the fork in the trail that led to the shut-ins, a mile in one direction, and our car, a mile in the other. Although we (both) had thought to carry flashlights (just in case), the last thing I really wanted to do was find myself stumbling over snow-covered trails through the dark with my 10-yr old daughter. Even had we survived the nighttime winter woods, I might not have survived the inevitable maternal reaction to such an escapade.
Arriving back at White Oaks Trailhead with a few minutes to spare.
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010
Aaack!-maeodera
Warning: post contains hardcore, taxonomic, sciencey geekiness!
Just as there is seasonality in the lives of insects, there is seasonality in the work of those who study them. For the collector/taxonomist, everything revolves around the collecting season — time spent on anything else is time not available for collecting. As a result, I spend a good deal of my time during the summer in the field and on its associated planning and organizing activities, leaving the winter months for processing and identifying collected specimens, incorporating them into the permanent collection, generating reports to fulfill permit requirements, and ultimately preparing manuscripts for publication — the raison d’être. Winter is also the time when I identify specimens sent to me by other collectors. I do this not only because I’m such a nice guy (at least I hope I am), but also because such material often contains species I haven’t seen before or that represent new distributions and host plant associations that I can use to augment the results of my own studies. Such work has occupied much of my time during the past several weeks, and I now find myself close to finishing the last of the nearly dozen batches of beetles sent to me since the end of last winter.
Of the three groups of beetles that I actively study — jewel beetles, longhorned beetles, and tiger beetles — it is the jewel beetles that are taxonomically the most challenging. Tiger beetles can often be indentified in the field (especially with the publication of Pearson et al. (2006), or “the Bible” among cicindelophiles), and North American longhorned beetles have been reasonably well worked by a strong contingent of both professional and amateur taxonomists over the past several decades. Jewel beetles on the other hand, despite their dazzling colors and popularity with collectors, continue to befuddle even the most dedicated collectors due to their extreme variability and poorly-defined species limits. Of the 822 species and subspecies known from North America, fully three-fifths of them belong to one of just three hyperdiverse genera — Acmaeodera, Agrilus, and Chrysobothris. No recent taxonomic treatments are available for any of these genera, thus, identifying species belonging to them requires access to primary literature, a well-represented and authoritatively-identified reference collection, and extraordinary patience! This is particularly true of the genus Acmaeodera, the North American members of which were last treated collectively more than a century ago (Fall 1899) (at which time less than half of the current 149 species/subspecies were known to science). The recent explosion of web-based images has helped matters (a particularly useful site for those interested in North American Acmaeodera is Acmaeoderini Orbis, with its galleries of Harvard type specimens and BugGuide photos); however, images are still lacking for many species, and others are not easily distinguished from the images that do exist.
Acmaeodera robigo Knull (Val Verde Co., Texas)
It is precisely this taxonomic challenge, however, that makes the group so interesting to me. Opportunities for discovery abound, as basic information is incomplete or totally lacking for many species regarding their geographical ranges and life histories. One of the species I encountered in a batch of material sent to me by cerambycid-specialist Jeff Huether contained three specimens that I eventually determined to represent Acmaeodera robigo. Josef Knull (1954) first described this species from specimens collected at Lake Corpus Christi in south Texas, and nothing more was recorded about the species until Nelson et al. (1996) reported a single specimen cut from its pupal cell in the base of Dalea formosa (Fabaceae) at White River Lake in far northern Texas — a range extension of almost 500 miles! Obviously, I didn’t have this species in my collection, and it was only after a series of eliminations that led me to the original description (and confirmation of my ID by Nearctic Acmaeodera-guru Rick Westcott based on the photos shown here) did I know for sure what it was. These specimens were collected at Seminole Canyon State Historic Park, thus, extending into west Texas the species’ known range, and they exhibit variability in the elytral markings and punctation that was not noted in the original description. While only an incremental increase in our knowledge of this species, collectively such increases lead to greater understanding of the genus as a whole, and Jeff’s generosity in allowing me to retain examples of the species increases my U.S. representation of the genus to 130 species/subspecies (87%).
Acmaeodera n. sp. (Santa Cruz Co., Arizona)
The opportunity for discovery is not limited to range extensions and new host records, but includes new species as well. A few years ago I received a small lot of specimens collected in Arizona by my hymenopterist-friend Mike Arduser (hymenopterists, especially those interested in apoid bees, are excellent “sources” of Acmaeodera, which they encounter frequently on blossoms while collecting bees). Among the material he gave to me was the single specimen shown here that immediately brought to my mind Acmaeodera rubrovittata, recently described from Mexico (Nelson 1994) and for which I had collected part of the type series. Comparison of the specimen with my paratypes, however, showed that it was not that species, and after much combing through the literature I decided that the specimen best fit Acmaeodera robigo (despite being collected in Arizona rather than Texas and not matching the original description exactly). This was before I had true A. robigo with which to compare, so I sent the specimen to Rick Westcott for his opinion. His reply was “good news, bad news” — the specimen did not represent A. robigo, but it didn’t represent any known species either! While the prospect of adding a new species to the U.S. fauna is exciting, basing a description on this single specimen would be ill-advised. Only through study of series of individuals can conclusions be made regarding the extent of the species’ intraspecific variability and its relation to known species. Until such specimens are forthcoming, the specimen will have to sit in my cabinet bearing the label “Acmaeodera n. sp.” For all of you collector-types who live in or plan to visit southeastern Arizona, consider this a general call for potential paratypes! The specimen was collected in early August on flowers of Aloysia sp. near the Atascosa Lookout Trailhead on Ruby Road in Santa Cruz Co.
REFERENCES:
Fall, H. C. 1899. Synonpsis of the species of Acmaeodera of America, north of Mexico. Journal of the New York Entomological Society 7(1):1–37.
[scroll to “Journal of the New York Entomological Society”, “v. 7 1899”, “Seq 12”]
Knull, J. N. 1954. Five new North American species of Buprestidae (Coleoptera). Ohio Journal of Science 54:27–30.
Nelson, G. H. 1994. Six new species of Acmaeodera Eschscholtz from Mexico (Coleoptera: Buprestidae). The Coleopterists Bulletin 48:272–282.
Nelson, G. H., R. L. Westcott and T. C. MacRae. 1996. Miscellaneous notes on Buprestidae and Schizopodidae occurring in the United States and Canada, including descriptions of previously unknown sexes of six Agrilus Curtis (Coleoptera). The Coleopterists Bulletin 50(2):183–191.
Pearson, D. L., C. B. Knisley and C. J. Kazilek. 2006. A Field Guide to the Tiger Beetles of the United States and Canada. Oxford University Press, New York, 227 pp.
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010
“Cicindelophilically”
My good friends Kent Fothergill and Kelly Tindall passed through St. Louis last week on their way back home from a visit to Columbia. I was happy for the chance to get together with them – if only for a short visit, as I hadn’t seen them since the summer before last when Kent joined forces with Chris Brown and I to conduct a survey for Cylindera cursitans (ant-like tiger beetle) in southeast Missouri. (You may recall that I orginally met Kent when he emailed me out of-the-blue after moving to southeast Missouri in 2007 to let me know he liked tiger beetles. I responded by suggesting that he look for this long sought-after species, which he found the very next day!) Kent had told me in arranging the visit that they had something they wanted to give me, and since I had some specimens of theirs to return it seemed a convenient way to make the exchange. I had no idea what it was they wanted to give me, but I knew they’d been to the recent Entomological Society of America meetings in Indianapolis and figured they must have purchased a cool beetle specimen or something for me.
After arriving at my office, they told me that they’d had the chance to meet John Acorn, a rare celebrity in the world of natural history study. Most people known John as the host and creative force behind Acorn the Nature Nut, an award-winning television series in which John’s inspiring personality and infectious love of nature introduce viewers to various aspects of Alberta’s natural history. John is also, however, an accomplished entomologist, with one of his special interests being… you guessed it – tiger beetles! In 2001, John published The Tiger Beetles of Alberta: Killers on the Clay, Stalkers on the Sand, one of the most accessible and highly entertaining treatments of the family (er… supertribe) to date (if I can ever get my act together and write The Tiger Beetles of Missouri, I want to model it after this book). John was at the ESA meetings selling original artwork of the different tiger beetle species occurring in Alberta, and Kent and Kelly mentioned to him that they had a friend back in Missouri who would love one of his prints – selecting “Cicindela purpurea auduboni black morph”. Somehow, my name and association with this blog came up, to which John replied, “Oh, I know about Beetles in the Bush” and then signed the print for me as shown below. Wow!
I hope Kent and Kelly understand my stunned silence upon first seeing the print they had so generously given to me and the inscription it bore. I felt a little silly afterwards returning their kind gesture by just giving them back specimens that were already theirs. I’m honored by their friendship and will be reminded of it now everytime I look at the print on my office wall.
REFERENCE:
Acorn, J. 2001. Tiger Beetles of Alberta: Killers on the Clay, Stalkers on the Sand. The University of Alberta Press, Edmonton, xix + 120 pp.
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010
Ants invade Beetles in the Bush!
For months now, your Beetles in the Bush host, Ted, has been nudging me to blog, in the end resorting to offering me a guest blogger gig at BitB. Given this golden opportunity, I’ve decided to utilize my web-logging debut to introduce my favorite insects, the fabulous Formicidae. First, a disclaimer: I have not mastered ant photography, and so will rely on the undisputed king of ant photographers, Alex Wild, through links to his numerous, unexcelled images.
Since about age 5, I can remember being interested in virtually anything living, but especially in small, active creatures. From the beginning, I have had a particular attraction to ants. With some notable exceptions, and aside from the pulchritudinous feature of their svelte waists, ants aren’t what most folks would call pretty, but they are — How else to say it? — just plain “cool”!
First, who are they and where do they come from? Ants constitute a single family, Formicidae, within the insect order Hymenoptera, so their relatives are wasps, bees, sawflies, horntails, gall wasps, and a vast array of small parasitic wasps that are mostly unappreciated except by specialists who study them. Within Hymenoptera, the ants are considered to belong to the superfamily Vespoidea, along with hornets, paper wasps, potter wasps and other solitary relatives. The evidence at present indicates the first animals we would call ant had diverged from their common ancestry with these other stinging wasps some time in the Cretaceous, 130 million years ago, more or less. Ants are classified in a varying number of subfamilies, currently at about 20. Fossils in amber up to 100 million years old represent early members of several modern subfamilies, and a few extinct groups. Most of us in the Northern Hemisphere Temperate Zone are familiar only with the big two subfamilies, Formicinae (carpenter ants, weaver ants, honey ants, etc.) and Myrmicinae (fire ants, harvester ants, leaf-cutter ants, etc.). In much of North America, folks may also be familiar with an abundant member of another subfamily, Dolichoderinae, namely odorous house ants, which frequent our gardens, kitchen counters, wall spaces, and even electrical outlets, especially in spring.
Ants are a conspicuous and often dominant presence in the World of the Little (or, what Piotr Nascrecki, in one of my favorite books, calls the “Smaller Majority” ). It is difficult for any observant person to sit still, outdoors in good weather, and not begin to see ants doing what ants do. They scurry about singly, in pairs or threesomes or foursomes, or in long lines, or columns. Our notice may be further piqued by their habit of transporting sundry bits of biomass or mineromass (pebbles, etc.). Often this is just taking out the inedible food waste, or sawdust or soil excavated while expanding or remodeling their nests. Less visibly, because more diffusely in space, ants carry a variety of items from foraging to their nests to provide nutrition for their colonies, or to add mass or create functional structure to their nests (to create better drainage, to provide incubation space for developing brood, and in some desert ants, to capture dew). In one of the most spectacular examples of ants transporting things, the so-called “slave-making” ants carry home the mature brood of a related species, these young ants later maturing in the brood-robbers’ nest to become its work force!
Shiny red workers of Polyergus lucidus return with pupae pillaged from a nest of Formica incerta several meters away. Two brown and differently proportioned workers of the latter that matured from raids earlier in the life of this Polyergus colony may be seen at the right of the photo.
Perhaps, not so widely known is that most of what most ants carry home is not some large, heavy particle in their mandibles, but rather is liquid carried in an expansible section of their esophagus called the crop. Because of the fine diameter of their gullets, adult ants cannot eat anything other than the most minute solid particles (e.g., pollen grains, loose cells from their prey). Solid items may be cut up to feed to the legless, pale larvae, or the larvae may even be placed directly upon the killed prey to bite into it and feed on their own, using their flexible “necks”. Adult ants get pre-digested food in return, in the form of glandular secretions loosely termed saliva, but which may be either a glandular secretion from the larva itself or simplify pre-liquefied flesh of prey lapped up from the larva’s messy eating. In some lineages, known as Dracula ants, adults actually “bleed” the larvae through rapidly healing wounds made at particular locations on the larval exoskeleton.
Okay, I need to get back to my regular work, so let’s bring this home (to winter in the United States). Many of us are now in the dead of winter, or so it would seem. But, on sunny days, sap is beginning to flow upward in maple and other trees, and one ant species may actually be seen, creeping slowly through the woods, in search of dead arthropods and earthworms, or perhaps some sweet sap oozing from a sapsucker wound in a tree. This is Prenolepis imparis, sometimes called “winter honeypot ant”. This is a partial misnomer. While foragers may indeed fill their crops to over-full with sweet sap or honeydew, the very bloated “honeypots” in the deep nests of this ant are in fact, fat pots, having converted their food to whitish body fat. This is later converted to a glandular secretion that serves as food for developing larvae. These ants are likely to be seen anywhere near where oaks of just about any species grow, and the where the soil is moist but well-drained. Look for these shiny little dark brown ants during your walks in the woods, on the sunny days that are sure to increase in number and warmth in the coming months.
Copyright © James C. Trager 2010
BitB’s Newest Contributor
Those of you who have followed this blog for any length of time have likely noticed fairly regular participation in the comments sections by one James C. Trager. Occasionally irreverent and always articulate, his informed quips are among those that I have enjoyed the most. One can surmise from James’ comments that he knows a thing or two about entomology himself, but to say this would be an understatement! Like me, James is a passionate entomologist whose scientific interests take him deep into many related fields of natural history study. Unlike me, James is a formally trained insect taxonomist, specializing in ants (family Formicidae). He has conducted numerous biogeographical and systematic studies on this group, much of it in the southeastern U.S. (list of publications), and is the current project leader for the Missouri Ants and Illinois Ants pages at AntWeb.org (whose ambitious goal is to provide information and high quality color images for each of the ~10,000 known ant species). James’ deep knowledge of this single taxon, however, does not limit his interest in other insects — singing insects in particular are among his favorites. It is, thus, with great pleasure that I introduce James as the newest BitB contributor.
In fact, James and I have known each other for many years, as we are both based in the St. Louis area. James is a restoration ecologist at Shaw Nature Reserve, a 2,500-acre ecological preserve located in the Ozark foothills (and just 15 miles from my house). Originally established by the Missouri Botanical Garden for managed plant collections, its recent focus has shifted to environmental education and ecological research, and James has played a key role in their many ongoing wetland, woodland, prairie and glade (xeric limestone prairie) restoration efforts. This experience combines with his entomological expertise and extensive travel within the U.S. and abroad (e.g., Ecuador) to give him a breadth of knowledge and perspective achieved by few, and I think you will find his writings most enjoyable. Look for his first post to appear in the next day or so.
Ted & James in restored woodland at Shaw Nature Reserve. Photo by Madison MacRae.
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010
Triple Quiz
Photo Details: Canon EOS 50D w/ Canon 100mm macro lens, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, f/20, MT-24EX flash w/ Sto-Fen diffusers.
- Entomology Quiz: Name the beetle.
- Botany Quiz: Name the plant.
- History Quiz: Name the location (yes, attentive readers will be able to deduce this).
While you ponder these questions, please make note of two upcoming blog carnivals:
- Circus of the Spineless – I’ve waited almost a year to host issue #47 of this venerable blog carnival – look for its appearance early next week. Send me your submissions by January 31 if you want to be included in this issue – ossified homeotherms need not apply.
- An Inordinate Fondness – The inaugural issue of this monthly blog carnival devoted to beetles is set to debut in mid-February at the home site. Post submissions are already starting to come in, so don’t miss this chance to be a founding participant. Submissions are due by February 15 – either by email or using this handy BlogCarnival submission form.
I’ve discovered a few more interesting blogs since my last blogroll update – the following are definitely worth a visit:
- Biodiversity in Focus Blog – A new blog by graduate student Morgan Jackson. Amazing photographs of stilt-legged flies (Diptera: Micropezidae).
- BunyipCo – David Rentz writes about entomology from Queensland, Australia, with a focus on orthopteroid insects and the rain forest.
- I Love Insects – Entomology student and insect enthusiast Erika Lenz really loves insects.
- nbell.dk/BLOG – A relatively new blog by a dragonfly/butterfly enthusiast in Denmark.
- Forest Fragments – Just a stone’s throw from my backyard, the staff at Washington University’s Tyson Research Center has begun a blog about their 2,000-acre experiment.
- Exploring the Remnants – A brand new blog from Aaron Brees, who explores Iowa’s natural history. Drop by and give him a jump start.
For those really interested in exploring entomology-related blogs, Anna Miller has provided nice descriptions of her Top 25 Entomology Blogs. Yes, I made the list, as did most of the other usual suspects, but you might find one or two that you didn’t know about.
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010
A matter of diffusion
In my Best of 2009 post, I mentioned four skills that, to me, seemed to be crucial for becoming a successful insect macrophotographer: 1) composition, 2) understanding lighting, 3) knowing how to use a flash, and 4) knowledge of the subject. Of these, I’m most comfortable with the last – three decades of insect study have given me the chance to observe a tremendous diversity of insects in a variety of situations and habitats. Many species are located only through understanding of their haunts and habits, and the ability to capture them relies upon successful approach techniques. Collecting insects has been excellent preparation for photographing them. I’m also reasonably satisfied with my compositional skills – at least in this early stage of my development as a photographer. I don’t expect to win any photo competitions (yet), especially since my intent as a photographer is at least as much for scientific documentation as it is for artistic expression, but I’m satisfied that I’m on the right track and developing the eye I’ll need to make good progress.
What I’m not satisfied with yet are the middle two – understanding lighting and knowing how to use a flash. Let’s face it, I was starting from square one here. My only prior experience with insect photography were middlin’ attempts in the mid-1980’s using an Olympus OM-10 body, a Zuiko 50mm lens (maximum magnification 1:2), and natural light only. I quickly lost interest (too distracting for the collecting), picking it back up only for my 1999 trip to South Africa. Fast forward to May 2009 and my acquisition of a bona fide insect macrophotography setup, complete with Canon’s 100mm f/2.4 and 65mm 1-5X macro lenses and their MT-24EX macro twin flash. Talk about giving a Ferrari to someone who had just received their learner’s permit! I like a good challenge, however, and spent the rest of 2009 with camera in hand on several memorable field trips – shooting lots of frames, deleting many on the spot and more when I saw them on the computer, and occasionally stumbling onto a pretty good one.
While I still have much to learn, one thing I did realize is that lighting remains a challenge even with a decent setup such as mine. The MT-24Ex flash unit, in particular, while seemingly the flash of choice among Canon-using amateur insect macrophotographers, produces a very harsh light. The capabilities and shortcomings of this flash unit have been reviewed in great detail by several insect macrophotographers much more knowledgeable than I (e.g., Alex Wild, Dalantech, Kurt, etc.), so I simply refer you to their websites if you’re interested rather than try to summarize here. However, the one thing they all emphasize with this flash unit is the need for diffusers. Diffusing light is easy; a simple sheet of tracing paper will do. However, diffusing light in a manner that is equally effective with both the 65mm and 100mm lenses (with their shorter and longer working distances, respectively) and also convenient for field-use is hard. For most of the 2009 season, I tried using Sto-Fen Omni-Bounce Diffusers, and while they were marginally better than no diffusers at all, the results were still not satisfying. More recently, I’ve been experimenting with the Gary Fong Puffers, which Dalantech has modified for use with the MT-24EX. I hadn’t yet committed to constructing the diffusers as described and conducting controlled comparisons between the Puffers and Sto-Fens, but my initial tinkering with the Puffers has me impressed. Below are two photos of Cicindela splendida (the aptly-named Splendid Tiger Beetle) – the first (which some of you may remember from this post) was taken in the field using the Sto-Fen diffusers and the 65mm lens (1X)…
…while the second was taken recently of this same beetle (in captivity on native soil) using the Puffers attached to the Sto-Fens and the 100mm lens (at slightly less than 1X).
Both photos have been cleaned up a bit with post-processing; however, neither has been altered dramatically. While not a true one-to-one comparison due to different venues (field versus captivity) and lenses (65mm versus 100mm), the second photo is clearly superior to the first, with softer lighting resulting in richer colors and far fewer specular highlights on the insect body. I had to bump the lighting up considerably for the second photo, since the Puffer combined with the Sto-Fens cut the light levels quite a bit, yet still the photo lacks any of the harshness and washed appearance of the first photo. The use of the 100mm lens in the second photo also should have presented a greater challenge for the lighting due to the increased working distance (~8 inches, compared to only 2-3 inches for the 65mm lens). I’m really quite pleased with the results of this initial experiment – enough to the point that I’ve ordered the necessary materials and am ready to dive into construction of my own set of “Dalantech-Puffers.”
Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2010
Beetles In The Bush 
