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

Sugarcane Weevil in Brazil

Sphenophorus levis (sugarcane weevil) | Conchal, Brazil.

Brazil is one of the world’s top producers of sugarcane, and they have the Middle East to thank for it.  While the U.S. was responding to the 1973 OPEC oil embargo by building bigger and bigger SUVs, Brazil aggressively developed an alternative fuels industry based on sugarcane for ethanol production.  Today, about half of Brazil’s sugarcane is milled for ethanol, yet despite this enough raw sugar is produced from the remaining sugarcane crop to rival India as the world’s top producer.

The large acreage devoted to sugarcane and tropical climate in which it is grown make Brazil’s crop especially vulnerable to infestation by insect pests—and there are many!  One of the most important is Sphenophorus levis (sugarcane weevil, or “bicudo da cana-de-açúcar”).  Larvae bore in the roots and crown of the plant, reducing biomass accumulation and longevity.  This feature of the insect’s biology also makes the larvae extraordinarily difficult to control, since they are largely protected from chemical applications by surrounding plant tissues.  This adult beetle was captured in a field trap placed in a sugarcane field in Conchal, approximately 175 km N of São Paulo.  The traps consist of split sugarcane stalks buried under debris within crop rows—adults are attracted to the cut surface of the stalks, where they congregate in numbers.  Traps are used not only to monitor beetle occurrence and abundance in fields, but also to provide a source of insects for laboratory rearing and evaluation of control test agents.

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

Bichos Argentinos #7 – Naupactus xanthographus

Naupactus xanthographus (South American fruit tree weevil) | Buenos Aires, Argentina

This weevil (family Curculionidae) was one of just a few beetle species that I encountered earlier this month in Buenos Aires, Argentina at La Reserva Ecológica Costanera Sur.  Weevils are, of course, one of the most taxonomically diverse and difficult groups of Coleoptera, making species IDs based purely on photographs quite challenging.  Nevertheless, I am reasonably confident that this individual represents Naupactus xanthographus, or the South American fruit tree weevil.  This name, it seems, has also been applied to a variety of other weevils photographed in South America and posted on the web, but the images I found at a few seemingly more authoratative sites give me confidence that this is the true N. xanthographus.  The narrow form suggests this individual is a male.

The genus, known collectively as “white-fringed weevils” is a large genus of exclusively Neotropical species – several of which have been introduced to North America (e.g., N. cervinus, Fuller rose beetle, and N. leucoloma) and which were, until recently, placed in a separate genus Graphognathus (Lanteri and Marvaldi 1995) (apparently the reduced humeri and lack of metathoracic wings were deemed insufficient for generic distinction).  In South America some of the species have become pests as well, with N. xanthographus becoming a problem for growers of grapes and other fruits and, thus, earning the names “burrito de la vid” (Chile) and “mulita de la vid” (Argentina) (both roughly translating to “grapevine little donkey”).

This was not an easy photograph to get – I found the weevil clinging to the underside of a leaf above my head.  It was impossible to photograph it in situ, so I moved it to a low twig away from other foliage where I could get the black background I desired.  Once moved, however, the weevil just never… stopped… crawling.  Snapping shots of an actively crawling insect is a crap shoot at best – not only are focus and framing more difficult to nail, but subjects photographed while moving almost always have one or two “bum” legs (lifted or cocked out of position).  A number of attempts were required to get a photo I was happy with (save for the slightly clipped antennal tip).  In such situations, I’ve found it best to track the beetle as it moves and as soon as the center focus point of the lens flashes take the shot.  This at least gives the best chance for nailing the focus, and then it’s simply a numbers game to get a shot with good framing and composition and all the body parts well placed.  Of course, I could’ve zoomed out and just cropped to perfection, but this feels a little like cheating – I’d rather put in the time and practice perfecting my game out in the field as much as possible.  An occasional clipped antenna, tarsus, etc. now will lead to better results down the line.

REFERENCE:

Lanteri, A. A. and A. E. Marvaldi. 1995. Graphognathus Buchanan a new synonym of Naupactus Dejean and systematics of the N. leucoloma species group (Coleoptera: Curculionidae). Coleopterists Bulletin 49(3): 206-228.

Bichos Argentinos #6 – Jumping Spider

I photographed this jumping spider (family Salticidae) two weeks ago in Buenos Aires, Argentina at La Reserva Ecológica Costanera Sur. In gestalt it is very similar to our North American species of the genus Phidippus, but I can’t say for sure whether it actually belongs to that genus. I found it crawling on the foliage of a tree just about eye height, and I’m guessing from the muted markings and roundish shape to the abdomen that it is a female (I saw another individual later that I took to be a male of the same species – it was similarly but more boldly marked and with a much more tapered abdomen). I hope you’ll forgive my hubris, but I’m rather pleased with how these photographs turned out (although, admittedly, there were others that were not so good). In my opinion, they represent further improvement over my first two attempts at photographing jumping spiders (with the standard caveat that I am still no Thomas Shahan). These improvements involve primarily sharpness and detail but also composition, and I consider them to be largely due to lighting and learning how to handle the subject.

The detail in these photos results not only from proper focus, but also lighting techniques. All of these photos were taken hand-held using a Canon MP-E 65mm macro lens at f/13 with full flash lighting. Although I used an exposure setting of 1/200 sec, the actual exposure is determined strictly by the duration of the flash pulse, which is much shorter than 1/200 sec. While flash pulse duration can be set manually (and I started out doing so), I now prefer to use E-TTL mode (Evaluative Through The Lens), which adjusts the flash duration automatically based on the amount of light that the camera senses coming through the lens from a short pre-flash at the aperture chosen. The more light that is sensed, the shorter the flash pulse – the less light sensed, the longer the pulse. Obviously, with a shorter flash pulse there is less likelihood that image sharpness will be affected by movement – either by the subject or by the camera-holder. Since light intensity decreases in proportion to distance, it is desirable to get the light source as close to the subject as possible to achieve the highest intensity and, thus, shortest flash duration.

It’s not that simple, however. Most insect macrophotographers agree that diffused light gives better results than undiffused light, but no matter what diffuser one uses there will be loss of light. Loss of light leads to longer flash pulse duration and, thus, increased potential for movement during the flash pulse (especially in hand-held photography). The trick, then, is to diffuse the light as much as possible, while at the same time minimizing light loss. I continue to favor my Puffer+Sto-Fen double diffuser for use with the 65mm lens, because it places the outer diffuser almost right on top of the subject for maximal apparent light size. This is not to say that improvements still are not possible – the open-side design likely results in some loss of light, and a thin inner diffuser film to replace the Sto-Fens would probably further reduce light loss and allow for even shorter flash pulses (and probably also allow a bit more battery life). I’ll get around to effecting these improvements someday, but in the meantime the current setup is working pretty well.

Compositionally, I like this last photo the best due to the placement of the subject within the frame (all photos are shown completely uncropped, although I’m not above doing so), its slight upward-looking pose, and the evenly-blurred light-green background. This was achieved by using my left hand to hold the leaf on which the spider was sitting and to also serve as a brace for resting the camera, which I held with the right hand. This minimizes wind-movement and fixes the distance between the subject and the lens (as long as the subject sits still!). By carefully twisting and turning the leaf as the spider moved upon it, I was able to turn the spider into the desired positions, and by paying attention to what was behind the spider I could compose a nicely colored blurred background. Understanding subject behavior was a tremendous advantage in this case, as it allowed me to predict and anticipate how the spider would move in response to my finger-prodding and leaf turning to get desirable poses. I tend to get my best compositions after I’ve worked the subject for awhile and taken several shots to learn its behavior and get it accustomed to my presences – this is reflected in the accompanying photos, which are posted in the order in which they were taken. Make no mistake – patience and practice are still required. However, it’s techniques such as these that can make the difference between good photographs and great ones!

Edit 3/30/11, 11:50am: My thanks to G. B. Edwards, Curator at the Florida State Collection of Arthropods, who just sent me the following message:

Hi Ted,
Nice photos.  Most likely it is a female “Euophryssutrix, which is not a Euophrys nor even a euophryine, but a freyine, so eventually will have another genus name. It is one of the larger species in the subfamily.

This species is called “aranhas papa-moscas” in southern Brazil, where it is a principal predator of fruit flies in peach orchards (Wikipedia).

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

North America’s largest scarab beetle

Dynastes tityus male - USA: Missouri, Jefferson Co., DeSoto

As one of North America’s largest, most written about, and most photographed beetles, Dynastes tityus (eastern Hercules beetle) hardly needs an introduction.  I photographed this male specimen from my collection back in December while testing my DIY diffuser for the MT-24EX twin flash and 100mm macro lens.  It’s a good test subject for such – its glossy exoskeleton may be beauty to the eye but is the bane of flash photographers, and its nearly 60mm of length demand a huge subject-to-lens distance that gives even the largest lens-mounted flash a small apparent size.  Nevertheless, the diffuser did a pretty good job of creating even illumination and preventing harsh specular highlights, giving almost the effect of an indirect strobe in a white box.

Dense setae adorn the underside of the thoracic horn of the male.

I hadn’t really noticed until I took the photos the dense adornment of setae (hairs) on the underside of the thoracic horn.  While setae in insects most often perform a tactile function, the density and placement on the horns of the males of these beetles makes me wonder if they might serve more of a display function.

Despite the overwhelming popularity of this beetle amongst hobbyist breeders and its widespread occurrence across the eastern United States (and the internet), it is not one that I have encountered with much frequency myself.  I suspect this is due to the position of Missouri near its western limit of distribution – likely a function of the species’ preference for moist treehole cavities with rotting wood in which the larvae can develop.  This particular specimen was given to me many years ago by a nursery grower in Jefferson Co. during my first job out of graduate school – before I’d ever found one myself, but since then I’ve encountered perhaps half a dozen or so at blacklights in mesic forests across the eastern Ozark Highlands.  Most recently (last summer) I found a female sitting on my driveway, apparently attracted to the mercury vapor lamp above the garage that I leave on occasionally during the months of June and July just for such purpose.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Frenatae 2011 Calendar

Ralph Holzenthal - Tabanidae. Adobe Illustrator, gradient mesh/Adobe Photoshop.

Even though we’re now in the latter part of February, I wanted to spread the word about a cool insect-themed calendar shown to me by a colleague during my recent trip to Brazil. Produced by Frenatae, the Graduate Student Entomology Club at the University of Minnesota, the calendar features original work by students using computer illustration techniques taught in a UMN course titled, ENT 5051, Scientific Illustration of Insects. The mastermind behind this course is Dr. Ralph W. Holzenthal, who – as can be seen by the stunning image above of a female (L) and male (R) Tabanus lineola – knows a thing or two about insect illustration! While the course covers traditional techniques such as pen & ink, pencil, watercolor, etc., its major emphasis is on computer-assisted techniques using Adobe Illustrator® and Photoshop®. This includes instruction on preparing full habitus color illustrations of insects on the computer. How I wish a course such as this had been available when I was in graduate school (of course, how I wish computers had been available when I was in graduate school!).

While Dr. Holzenthal’s illustrative skills are obvious, it’s also clear that he excels at teaching these skills to his students, as evidenced by this selection of my favorite images (not surprisingly, all beetles!) from the course website galleries:

Caitlin Krueger - Scarabaeidae

Martha Megarry - Scarabaeidae

Heather Cummins - Zopheridae

.
It should be pointed out that all of these Photoshop illustrations represent original artwork and not modified photographs!

I ordered my copy of the calendar as soon as I returned home from my trip. You can order one too by sending a check for $12 to the following address:

Frenatae
1980 Folwell Ave Rm 219
St Paul, MN 55108

My thanks to Dr. Holzenthal for allowing me to post this small selection of images from his website.

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011

Diversity in Tiger Beetle Larval Burrows

One of the fascinating aspects of tiger beetle study is their often high degree of fidelity for specific habitats.  Some species prefer wet habitats, while others frequent the drier uplands.  Some like sand while others need clay.  Differences in salinity, vegetational cover, and even slope dictate what species might be expected to occur in a given habitat, thus, the diversity of tiger beetle species one encounters is directly proportional to the diversity of habitats explored.  Unfortunately, tiger beetles can be rather ephemeral in their occurrence as adults.  Despite a life cycle that requires at least one year (and may take 2-3 years or even more), adults are often present for only for a few short weeks.  Even during the time that adults are present, they often hide if conditions aren’t right (too cold, too hot, too wet, too early, too late, etc., etc.  Add to that their marvelous evasive capabilities, and it’s a wonder I ever see or catch any at all!).  The study of tiger beetles is not, however, entirely dependent upon the adults.  The presence of larval burrows in an area is also useful information, and through understanding of the species that might occur in an area and their habitat preferences, it is possible to identify – at least tentatively – the species that might be living in them.

Cicindela lengi? (sandy tiger beetle) - Sioux Co., Nebraska

To the uninitiated, tiger beetle burrows might seem nothing more than a simple hole in the ground – anything could have made it.  However, with experience one becomes able to distinguish tiger beetle larval burrows almost instantly from burrows made by other ground-burrowing organisms.  The most common type of burrow is recognized by a combination of characters – almost perfectly circular except for a slight flattening on one side that gives the burrow a faint D-shape, and with the edge smoothly beveled.  This is your classic tiger beetle burrow and, for most U.S. species of Cicindela and related genera, averages ~5-6mm in diameter for 3rd instar larvae (tiger beetle burrows are most often observed at 3rd instar, since it is this final instar in which the larva spends the majority of its time and the burrow becomes most noticable).  The above burrow is one such burrow, found at Monroe Canyon in northwestern Nebraska last September.  While a number of species are known from the area, there are only a few that make their burrows in deep dry sands such as those that occur at this site.  We can eliminate Cicindela formosa (big sand tiger beetle) for reasons discussed below, and we can also dismiss Cicindela limbata (sand blow tiger beetle) because the habitat is not the barren, wind-shaped sand blow habitat that the species prefers.  This leaves two possibilities – Cicindela scutellaris (festive tiger beetle), a common and widespread inhabitant of sand habitats throughout the Great Plains, and Cicindela lengi (sandy tiger beetle), a much more localized resident of sand habitats with more western distribution.  The burrow likely represents the latter, since adults of this species have been found with greater frequency than C. scutellaris on the very fine-grained sands that occur in this part of Nebraska.  My confidence in this ID is bolstered by the fact that a larva I collected in the area from just such a burrow successfully finished its development and emerged a few months later as an adult C. lengi.

Cicindela pulchra pulchra (beautiful tiger beetle) - Fall River Co., South Dakota

Sometimes size alone is enough to indicate the species responsible for a burrow.  The above burrow was encountered last September in southwestern South Dakota on a clay/shale embankment in sage/shortgrass prairie.  A number of tiger beetle species fond of clay were observed at the site, including the two generalist species Cicindela tranquebarica (oblique-lined tiger beetle) and Cicindela purpurea audubonii (Audubon’s tiger beetle).  However, at ~8 mm in diameter the burrow is too large to have been made by either of these species.  The only tiger beetle in the area capable of making a burrow this size is Cicindela pulchra (beautiful tiger beetle), and in fact this burrow was found at one of several sites recently discovered by Matt Brust for this species in South Dakota.  Note again the classic shape – slightly flattened along the bottom side (the flattening accommodates the mandibles of the larval head – tiger beetle larvae always orient themselves in one position when sitting at the burrow entrance).

Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle) - Woodward Co., Oklahoma

Just as large size was diagnostic for the previous burrow, the small size of the above burrow was also diagnostic.  This burrow, found at Alabaster Caverns in northwestern Oklahoma in October, 2009, measured only 3-4mm in diameter and can only have been made by Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle).  This provisional ID was suggested by the fact that adults of the species had been observed abundantly in the lichen-encrusted clay exposures of this shortgrass prairie the previous June.  This photo, in fact, represents the first-ever discovery of the larval burrow of this species, and the identity of the species was confirmed when the larva collected from this and neighboring burrows and placed in rearing containers in the lab later emerged as adults.  I have found very similar-sized burrows in bottomland forest habitats in southeastern Missouri where the closely related species Cylindera cursitans has been seen.  The burrows are identical in size and shape, but the drastic difference in habitat is enough to distinguish the species that made them.

Cicindela formosa formosa (big sand tiger beetle) - Sioux Co., Nebraska

Not all tiger beetles utilize the simple hole-in-the-ground style of burrow, but rather incorporate some rather unique engineering features that make specific identification much easier.  This burrow can only be made by Cicindela formosa (big sand tiger beetle), a common resident of a variety of dry sand habitats throughout the Great Plains and eastern U.S.  The burrow entrance is on the large size for U.S. Cicindela (~6mm in diameter), and rather than opening flush on the ground it is directed horizontally and opens into a pit that is excavated to one side and underneath the burrow entrance.  No other U.S. tiger beetle makes a burrow quite like this (although I have noted Cicindela limbalis (common claybank tiger beetle) burrows on steep clay banks with a similar but much less distinct excavation on their lower side).  The pit apparently functions as a trap for potential prey, and since I have most often encountered burrows of this species in areas with some slope, I suspect the pit may help the larva capture its prey by preventing the prey from tumbling down the slope at the first sign of trouble.

Cicindela formosa 3rd instar larvae - Sioux Co., Nebraska

This is a different burrow by the same species, also at Monroe Canyon last September, that shows a 3rd instar larva sitting at the burrow entrance.  The sickle-shaped mandibles are resting against the slightly flattened lower edge of the burrow entrance, while the round pronotum fills the rest of the entrance profile.  The upper pair of eyes can be seen above the mandibles, but the lower pair (between the upper pair and the mandibles) are not visible in this photo due to the downward-facing angle of the burrow entrance.  I waited for quite some time with camera in position in hopes that I could photograph the larva, and when it did return to the burrow entrance I had time enough to fire off just a couple of shots before it retreated once again to safety in the depths of its burrow.

Cicindela fulgida fulgida (crimson salt flat tiger beetle) - Sioux Co., Nebraska

This unusual-looking burrow was found in a dry clay saline creek bed in the Badlands of northwestern Nebraska last September.  The turret structure is unique, but the nearly perfectly round and smoothly beveled burrow entrance identify it, nevertheless, as that of a tiger beetle larva.  These burrows can only be made by Cicindela fulgida (crimson salt flat tiger beetle).  There are several other saline-tolerant tiger beetles species in Nebraska, but most such as Ellipsoptera nevadica knausii (Knaus’ tiger beetle), Eunota togata (cloaked tiger beetle), and Habroscelimorpha circumpicta johnsonii (Johnson’s tiger beetle) require much more moisture than was found in this bone-dry creek bad.  I’ve found two other much more widely distributed clay-associated species – Cicindela tranquebarica and Cicindela purpurea audubonii – at this and other sites where I’ve seen C. fulgida; however, the larvae of those species do not utilize this unique turret-shaped structure for their burrows.  The turret is thought to have a cooling function for the larva during the heat of summer by raising it above the hottest layer of air against the white salt-encrusted ground and by aiding in the dissipation of heat from the larval burrow.  I wanted to photograph the larva sitting at the burrow entrance and spent quite a bit of time stalking out this and nearby burrows for a chance to do so.  Alas, however, on this day the larvae had greater patience than I!

Cicindela tranquebarica kirbyi (Kirby's tiger beetle) adult & larval burrows - Sioux Co., Nebraska

The above burrow entrances were photographed in September 2008 at the same dry saline creek bed in Sioux Co., Nebraska.  I mentioned above that Cicindela tranquebarica kirbyi and Cicindela purpurea audubonii both occurred commonly at this site along with Cicindela fulgida; however, these burrows likely represent the former.  That species seems to be found more consistently in high saline environments than the latter, which in this case probably have their larval burrows in the more normal clay soil further away from the creek bed.  During that 2008 trip, I did collect larvae from burrows like these in several similar, high saline habitats in Nebraska, South Dakota, and Oklahoma, and in each case adults of C. tranquebarica kirbyi were what emerged.  I have also reared this species from larvae collected on clay banks and wet sand habitats – in all cases, the burrows are a tad larger than those I have seen for other species in the genus that I have reared, such as Cicindela limbalis and Cicindela repanda (common shore tiger beetle) – logical since adults of C. tranquebarica tend to be a little more robust than these other species (but smaller than Cicindela pulchra and Cicindela obsoleta vulturina (prairie tiger beetle)).  In the above photo, I believe the the upper-right burrow is that of a larva, while the the lower-left one is that of an emerged adult – note the not-perfectly-circular opening and more ragged edge to the burrow.  In fact, the latter burrow looks very much like the adult emergence burrow that I saw at this very location last September, in which the still unemerged adult was seen sitting!  Granular chunks of soil can be seen scattered about the latter burrow, but I believe these were actually tossed by the larva rather than the adult as a result of burrow excavation – the amount of soil an adult would need to remove to re-open its burrow for emergence would probably be far less than what can be seen in this photo.  I did not search the surrounding grasslands for larval burrows, but if I had done so, it is likely that I would have found similar burrows that belonged to the larvae of Cicindela purpurea audubonii – the only other tiger beetle that we have seen in this inhospitable place!

Copyright © Ted C. MacRae 2011