Crazy Eyes

Spissistilus festinus | Stoneville, Mississippi

Spissistilus festinus (three-cornered alfalfa hopper) is one of the few truly economic pests in the otherwise bizarre and innocuous family Membracidae (treehoppers).  Its common name alludes to one of the crops it affects, but my encounters with this species are most often in soybean (I am, after all, a soybean entomologist).  Damage in this crop is caused by both adults and nymphs, whose piercing/sucking mouthparts cause girdling and breakage of the stem—often just a few inches above the soil.  This individual was seen during my travels last week in a soybean field in Stoneville, Mississippi, where numbers throughout the season were especially high this year.  Although I have seen innumerable S. festinus adults, I have never noticed their crazy, zig-zag patterned red and white eyes until I managed this closeup face shot (click on photo for best view).

This slightly cropped photo was taken with a 100mm macro lens and full extension tube set, resulting in slightly more than 2X magnification.  One of the lessons I took from was the need to pay more attention to background and value contrast.  By placing the subject a few inches in front of the dark green soybean foliage I was able to achieve a much more pleasing background than the typical black background one gets with full flash photos at high magnification.  Although both the subject and the background are green, there is still sufficient difference in shade to create contrast between them.  Light-green is one of the more difficult colors to work with when full flash is used with high shutter speeds and small apertures to maximize crispness and detail (in this case, 1/250 sec and f/16).  However, increasing ISO to 400 and lowering flash exposure compensation to -2/3 can reduce the amount of flash needed to illuminate the subject with such settings, making it easier to achieve a properly exposed and true-colored subject.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

BugShot 2011 – Final Thoughts

As I suspected would be the case,  has proven to be an especially difficult challenge.  As a result, instead of posting the answer tonight I’m going to give folks another day to make their play for points (remember, nobody walks away empty-handed).  In the meantime, I’ve had a chance to ruminate over this past weekend’s BugShot insect photography workshop at Shaw Nature Reserve in Gray Summit, Missouri, and now seems to be an appropriate time to post some final thoughts while they’re still fresh in my mind. Suffice it to say that it was an incredible experience—both technically and socially.  I learned far more than I thought possible (and hope I can remember even a portion of it) and made some great friends in the process.  It’s really not possible for me to summarize here all of the techniques, insights, equipment choices, etc. that were covered, nor do I want to—such a list would be boring to read and not very meaningful without the context to go with it.  What I would like to do is shout out a few people who, beyond the collective, helped make the weekend what it was for me.

Instructors.  The three instructors, all accomplished insect photographers of the highest caliber, typified three very different yet complimentary approaches to the art.  Alex Wild (University of Illinois), ant photographer extraordinaire and author of the insect blog I’ve most tried to emulate, gave me tremendous insight on lighting and practical approaches on how to use it effectively.  My discussions with John Abbott (University of Texas) about equipment will be very helpful for the type of photography that I like to do (I’m not sure I’m ready for the tripod yet, but maybe the other ideas we discussed will be the “slippery slope”).  Finally, I thoroughly enjoyed my time with Thomas Shahan (Norman, Oklahoma), whose great artistic insight helped me see a whole new world of possibilities for tiger beetle portraiture.  I must admit to feeling a little star-struck when I first began talking to him, but his infectious enthusiasm and exuberance quickly put me at ease.

Friends.  I can’t begin to list everybody whose company I enjoyed, but standouts include Jo Holly (Alex’s better half!), as well as fellow bloggers Crystal, Lee, Dave, and DragonflyWoman.  Even though I only met them this weekend, it was if I had known them for years.  My time “fishing” tiger beetle larvae with Crystal and Lee was not only a highlight of the trip (watching them “jump” as the larva came flying up and out of the burrow was a real treat), but also represented a discovery in the truest sense of the word (as will become clear in a future post).  No discussion of friends would be complete without mentioning James Trager, not only for opening up Shaw Nature Reserve to this weekend’s event, but also for the access he’s given me over the past several years and our frequent, humorous email discussions about all things entomological (or botanical, ecological, etc.).

Gratitudes.  I want to thank Alex for inviting me to take part in this event as something more than just an attendee.  I hope my contribution, however small, was beneficial.  My thanks also to Patsy Hodge, who was so helpful and gracious to me in the days leading up to and during the event.  I also appreciate the kind comments that many of the attendees made to me about my blog and my photographs—your encouragement means a lot to me.

Regrets.  In an event like this, packed as it was with seminars and group discussions, it is sad but unavoidable that one cannot spend at least a little time with each and every person in attendance.  To those that I did have a chance to talk to, the pleasure was all mine.  To those that I missed, I will catch you next time!

I think I’ll close with this minimally processed photograph of what I take to be Misumenoides formosipes (whitebanded crab spider) and its honey bee (Apis mellifera) prey.  Although I photographed this spider using flash and looking straight up into an overcast sky, I managed to properly illuminate the subject and avoid blown yellows and an all-black background by using some of the very techniques and principles that I had just learned earlier that day.  I hope to learn more at BugShot 2012!

Misumenoides formosipes (whitebanded crab spider) | Shaw Nature Reserve, Franklin Co., Missouri

BugShot 2011 – Lesson 1

I’m a lucky guy! First, I’m one of the fortunate attending this weekend’s BugShot insect photography workshop. Second, this first-of-a-kind event is being held only 13 miles from my home at Shaw Nature Reserve in Gray Summit, Missouri. Third, I was “adopted” by the BugShot instructors to assist in the event. Who are the instructors? None other than John Abbott from Austin, Texas—an expert on dragonfly biology and insect action photography, Thomas Shahan from Norman, Oklahoma—master of close-up arthropod (especially jumping spider) portraiture, and Alex Wild from Champaign-Urbana, Illinois—ant photographer extraordinaire and author of the most popular insect blog on the net.  In 2009 I picked up a digital SLR camera for the first time ever—in 2011 I am rubbing shoulders, discussing exposure and lighting, and enjoying social time with three of the country’s most accomplished insect macrophotographers (and some other very cool people as well).

I have come a long way, but I still have much to learn.  Intimate understanding of lighting, exposure, and the creative use of flash still eludes me—I can do a few things well, but there is much more I can’t do at all.  Today was my first time experimenting with the effect of lighting direction, i.e. taking the flash heads off their fixed position on the front of the lens and hand-holding them in different positions.  This simple technique can have dramatic effects on the look of a photograph, as illustrated by the following two photographs.  In the first, both flash heads of my Canon MT-24EX twin flash are attached to the front of the lens (as they have been for every single flash photograph I’ve ever taken up to this point).  In the second, only the right flash head remains attached to the lens, while the left head has been detached and is being hand-held directly above the subject (in this case, the treehopper Acutalis tartarea on Solidago sp.).  Technically they are not very good photographs, but they illustrate well the dramatic differences that can be achieved by varying the position of the flash heads.  Among other things, this is a technique that I will be exploring much over the coming weeks.

Both flash heads attached to front of lens.

Right flash head attached to front of lens; left flash head held directly above subject.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Bumelia borer on white

Plinthocoelium suaveolens suaveolens | Ozark Co., Missouri

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

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

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

Indirect flash in white box

Direct flash w/ DIY diffuser

Indirect flash in white box

Direct flash w/ DIY diffuser

Indirect flash in white box

Direct flash w/ DIY diffuser

Indirect flash in white box

Direct flash w/ DIY diffuser

Indirect flash in white box

Direct flash w/ DIY diffuser

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

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

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Use of extension tubes for better lighting

The photos in this post of Tetracha floridana (Florida Metallic Tiger Beetle) illustrate a technique that I have begun using recently to improve the lighting in my full-flash insect macrophotographs—use of extension tubes!  I know this sounds strange, and I actually just stumbled onto it myself when I started using extension tubes in combination with my Canon EF 100mm macro lens.  Okay, I can hear it now: “Why not use the Canon MP-E 65 mm macro lens?”  It’s a good question, as at magnifications above 1X there is no finer lens than the 65mm.  However, the tiger beetles that I spend a lot of time photographing are right in that size range where sometimes I need magnifications below 1x (whole body shots of medium to large species), while other times I need magnifications above 1X (small species and closeups—particularly face shots).  Fortunately, the entire spectrum of magnifications (up to 5X) is covered by these two lenses, but there is, unfortunately, no overlap.  This is where the extension tubes come in—when all 68mm are added the 100mm lens effectively changes from a 1.0X–∞ lens to a 0.7–2.0X lens.  This gives a frame width of 11–33 mm, perfect for nearly all North American tiger beetles (most species range from 6-20 mm, excluding legs and antennae). 

In addition to allowing a more appropriate range of magnifications without the need to switch out lenses, this has one other effect—it moves the lens a little closer to the subject.  That in itself is of no particular benefit, but since I use the front-of-the-lens-mounted Canon MT-24EX dual flash, it also moves the flash a little closer to the subject.  It’s not a huge distance, only about 20 mm, but keep in mind that the flash heads extend forward from the front of the lens (especially with the Kaiser shoes that I use with my diffuser), and the front of the diffuser itself lies at about 60 mm in front of the lens face.  Thus, at 1X the the front of the diffuser sits ~80 mm from the subject with the 100mm lens only, but with 68 mm of extension tubes added it sits only 60 mm from the subject.  The closer the light source is to the subject, the greater the apparent light size, and larger apparent light size results in more even lighting with reduced specular effects.

Tetracha floridana | Pinellas Co., Florida (100mm lens only)

100mm lens + 68mm extension tubes

100mm lens only (slightly cropped)

100mm lens + 68mm extension tubes

The primary disadvantage to doing this is loss of ability to focus to infinity.  Frankly, this is functionality I never used with the 100mm lens, preferring instead the 17-85mm wide-angle lens for more general landscape and habitat photos.  The other downside is that placing the lens closer to the subject can result in greater chance of “spooking” the subject and causing it to flee or behave evasively.  Again, however, my experience is that if a subject can be photographed at 1X with the 100mm lens, it can be photographed at 2X with the 100mm lens + extension tubes.

Has anybody else ever tried this, and if so what was your experience?

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Charming Couple revisited

Another view of the of Ellipsoptera hamata lacerata (Gulf Coast Tiger Beetle) that I photographed in a small mangrove marsh in Seminole, Florida. These are actually among the first tiger beetles that I ever tried to photograph at night, and the major learnings involved: 1) figuring out how to turn on the flash lamp and then compose the shot quickly enough before the lamp shut off, and 2) making sure to use the histogram in the field to ensure I’d gotten the proper flash level. My first few attempts all tended to be underexposed because the brightness of the image on the playback screen in the darkness caused me to keep undersetting the flash exposure compensation. I’d not previously gotten in the habit of using the histogram in the field since I do a lot of flash level bracketing, but perhaps this is a tool that will allow me to cut down on that to some degree. Anyway, these are two additional photos that worked out pretty well—I like the first because of the contrast between the bright white mandibles of the male versus the off-white mandibles of the female, and the second (female only after the male bolted) for its nice view of the curiously bent elytral apices that distinguish it from the female of the very similar and (in this area) sympatric E. marginata (Margined Tiger Beetle). Also clearly seen in the second is one of the distinct basolateral grooves on the pronotum that serve to receive the male mandibles during mating (compare to same area on pronotum of male). I was amazed at how easy this mating pair and other individuals of this species were to photograph at night in view of their extreme wariness during the day.

Ellipsoptera hamata lacerata | Seminole, Pinellas Co., Florida

Note curiously bent elytral apices and basolateral pronotal groove for reception of male mandibles.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Cylindera cursitans (Ant-like Tiger Beetle) in Arkansas

In late June I visited Chalk Bluff Natural Area in northeastern Arkansas.  Situated at the northeastern-most corner of the state, it is here where the St. Francis River enters Arkansas from Missouri, slicing through the loose Tertiary conglomerates of Crowley’s Ridge before settling into its lazy, meandering course between the two states in the Upper Mississippi Alluvial Plain.  The site’s geological history, however, is not what attracted me to it, but rather its status as the state’s only known locality for Cylindera cursitans (ant-like tiger beetle).  It was the existence of this population that convinced my colleagues Chris Brown and Kent Fothergill and I that the species must occur in southeast Missouri not only along the Mississippi River, but also along the St. Francis River some 50 miles to the west.  Persistence eventually paid off last year when Kent captured a single individual on the Missouri side of the river at Chalk Bluff Access in Dunklin Co. (MacRae et al. 2011).

Kent had to really work for that specimen, spending several hours crawling through the underbrush in wet, bottomland forests before eventually finding the lone individual.  I was confident, however, that my search at the Arkansas site would require far less effort, as Kent had also observed this population during his attempts to locate the species on the Missouri side of the river, writing “I saw more cursitans in an hour than I have seen lifetime total!” The playground/picnic area where Kent had seen them sits right next to the parking lot and is as un-curitans a habitat as one can imagine—tidy and neat, with a nicely-mowed grass lawn under the shade of large oak trees rather than the sweltering, poison ivy choked understory habitats with their attendant swarms of mosquitoes and deer flies that we’ve braved in order to find the species in Missouri.  Only the small, intermittent patches of barren sandy loam soil gave a clue that this might be good tiger beetle habitat, and even then one might expect only the more pedestrian species such as Cicindela punctulata and Tetracha virginica and not something as exciting as C. cursitans.

But occur there it does, and hardly a few steps had been taken from the parking lot before I saw that familiar “dash” of movement, looking for all intents and purposes at first like a small spider.  A closer look confirmed its true identity, and during the next hour or so I would see countless such individuals—all scrambling rapidly for cover on my approach.  I have seen a number of cursitans populations during the course of our surveys for this species in southeastern Missouri, and this population was as robust as any of them.

Despite my earlier work with this species, I still lacked photographs I was completely happy with—i.e., field photographs of unconfined beetles taken with a true macro lens and flash to control lighting.  All of my previous photographs were either taken with a small point-and-shoot camera or had to rely upon beetles confined in a terrarium.  The species is not easy to photograph in the field—the small size of the adults (6–8 mm in length) and their cryptic coloration matching the soil surface makes them almost impossible to see until they move.  They are also very skittish and are quick to flee when approached, necessitating very slow, deliberate movements in order to approach them closely enough for photographs.  Oftentimes adults will run towards and hide up against the base of a clump of grass, where they are even more difficult to photograph, but sometimes they will hide beneath fallen leaves or other debris.  Interestingly they do not flee immediately if the leaf/debris is very carefully lifted up and removed—almost as if they think they’re still hidden.  I’ve found exposing adults hiding under leaves to be an easier way to get field photographs of the species, although I have noted that some individuals (but not others) seem eventually to adjust to my presence and resume normal activity despite having a camera lens hovering inches away from them.

Once I had my fill of photographs, I walked the trail to the river and back but did not see any beetles along the trail within the forest (too much leaf litter) or along the river.  Surely the beetles occur in these other areas and are not confined in the area just to that small, man-made habitat that is the picnic ground.  Seeing this population gives me greater confidence that the species does indeed occur more broadly along the St. Francis River in Missouri than suggested by single individual caught on the Missouri side by Kent.

REFERENCE:

MacRae, T. C., C. R. Brown and K. Fothergill. 2011. Distribution, seasonal occurrence and conservation status of Cylindera (s. str.) cursitans (LeConte) (Coleoptera: Carabidae: Cicindelitae) in Missouri. Cicindela 43(3): in press.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Wrong lens

During the past couple of years, as I’ve transitioned from strictly a net-wielding entomologist to one that also carries a camera, I’ve had to start making choices about whether to keep the camera in the backpack or hold it at the ready, and if the latter which lens to keep on it. They are situational decisions, influenced largely by what I’m focused on (heh!) at the time—keeping the camera in the bag facilitates collecting, but it also tends to reduce the number of subjects I deem worthy of the setup effort required to photograph them. Conversely, carrying the camera out of the bag greatly impedes collecting but results in much more photographs having been taken. Even when I do decide to carry the camera at the ready, which lens should I have on it—the 100mm for tiger beetle-sized and larger, or the 65mm for tiger beetle-sized and lower? (Annoyingly, most tiger beetles are right at that life-sized threshold, and neither lens alone allows me to float above and below 1:1 for the full range of photos I like for them. As a result, I sometimes end up with extension tubes stacked under the 100mm lens to give me some extra range above its normal 1:1 limit.) I wish there was some way to have the camera with either lens at the ready (and not impeding net swings would be even better), but that just isn’t possible. As a result, I sometimes find myself with the wrong lens on the camera when I see something I want to photograph. If it’s important, I’ll go through the trouble to switch out lenses—hopefully quickly enough to avoid losing the photographic opportunity; other times I might just decide I don’t really need the photo that badly.  Then there are times when I feel a little adventurous and will just go ahead and take the photo anyway without switching lenses.

The following is an example of the latter—an eastern fence lizard (Sceloporus undulatus) photographed with the 65mm lens (minimum magnification 1:1). Not only is this the first time that I have succeeded in approaching one of these lizards closely enough to take a good photograph, but the short working distance of the 65mm required that I get extraordinarily close. He was on the side of a fallen log, and I approached from the other side crouching low, then slowly (slowly!!!) peered over the edge of the log until I had his head in focus. I got off just this one shot, as the flash caused the lizard to bolt for good. The angle could have been better, but I got the eye focused spot-on so it’s a keeper.

Sceloporus undulatus (eastern fence lizard) | Shaw Nature Reserve, Franklin Co., Missouri

I wonder if anybody else has ever photographed a 6-inch long lizard with a 65mm lens…

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011