First collecting trip of the season!

May 22, 2023May 23, 2023 / Ted C. MacRae / 7 Comments

Last week I went on the first collecting trip of the 2023 season, which was actually the second phase of a study initiated last year to evaluate the efficacy of “jug traps” and baits for trapping longhorned beetles (family Cerambycidae). In the first year of the study, I set out 24 traps at 12 locations across southern Illinois and Missouri—one trap at each location baited with “pure” (99.5%) ethanol (EtOH), and the other baited with a 50:50 mixture of ethanol and sweet red table wine (SRW). The traps proved to be highly effective at trapping not only a diversity of Cerambycidae, but also Cetoniidae and Elateridae. Additionally, and in what was a bit of a surprise, the 50:50 mixture (EtOH/SRW) proved to be much more efficacious than EtOH alone. The reasons for this are not clear—-perhaps SRW contains other volatiles besides EtOH that are also attractive to the beetles, or possibly the sugars in SRW permit additional fermentation and, thus, extended volatilization of EtOH. Either way, the ability to substitute at least a portion of relatively expensive EtOH with cheap SRW without negatively impacting trap efficacy (actually improving it) allows cost savings and begs the question: how effective are traps baited with SRW alone?

To answer that question, I decided to conduct a second season of trapping, this time comparing three possible baits: SRW alone, 50:50 SRW/EtOH, and EtOH alone. I also wanted to conduct the study in a different area where a different longhorned beetle fauna might be expected to increase the diversity of species shown to be attracted to the traps, and for that I could not think of a better place than northwestern Oklahoma. The insect fauna of the area is decidedly more “western” than southern Missouri, and in fact I have collected several species of beetles in the area that represent new records for the state—most of which are more typically found further southwest in New Mexico and/or Arizona (manuscripts containing these records are currently in progress). Most importantly, I can reach the area from my home near St. Louis, Missouri in less than a day of driving, allowing me to make the repeated visits over the course of the season that will be necessary to service the traps and collect the data. Since three traps will be deployed at each location (instead of two as in 2022), fewer locations (six) were chosen, resulting in 18 total traps. The traps were set out May 16–18, during which time my good friend and collecting buddy Rich Thoma joined me, and I will return every five weeks to check the traps until early October, when they will be taken down.

Note: all field identifications are preliminary pending confirmation.

Day 1—Gloss Mountain State Park (Major Co.)
This is one of my favorite spots in northwestern Oklahoma, though not quite west enough to be considered part of the “panhandle.” The gypsum-capped mesas atop red clay soils have a decidedly “New Mexican” look, and I have collected several beetles here that represent new state records for Oklahoma, including Plionoma suturalis, Chrysobothris octocola, C. quadrillineata, and Paratyndaris prospopis. I decided to set two set of jug traps here because of the two distinctly different habitat types: one on/near the top of the mesa in copses of gum bumelia, netleaf hackberry, soapberry, and/or eastern red-cedar, and another in the mesquite chaparral along south border in isolated mesquite trees.

Ethanol-baited “jug trap” hanging in honey mesquite tree in mesquite chaparral.

Things were still a bit early in the season, and I did not spend anytime beating the newly leafed out trees, but I did find one Phyllophaga cribrosa on the ground and several Plionoma suturalis (gave a mating pair to Rich), one Trichodes bibalteatus, and one Monophylla terminalis on living Neltuma glandulosa [= Prosopis glandulosa].

*Phyllophaga cribrosa* (family Scarabaeidae) atop gypsum-capped mesa.

*Plionoma suturalis* (family Cerambycidae) mating pair on *Neltuma glandulosa* [= *Prosopis glandulosa*] (honey mesquite) in mesquite chaparral.

Other sightings of interest were an eastern collared lizard (Crotaphytus collaris) at the edge of the mesa and a Manduca quinquemaculata (five-spotted hawkmoth) getting an early start on its evening pollination rounds on still unopened Oenethera macrocarpa (Missouri primrose) blooms.

Eastern collared lizard (*Crotaphytus collaris*) atop gypsum-capped mesa.

*Manduca quinquemaculata* (five-spotted hawkmoth, family Sphingidae) nectaring in flight at flower of *Oenethera macrocarpa* (Missouri primrose) in mesquite chaparral.

Day 2—Alabaster Caverns State Park (Woodward Co.)
There is no camping at Gloss Mountain State Park, and we were hungry as well, so we drove to Woodward to grab some dinner and backtracked up to Alabaster Caverns State Park. Arriving at the campsite after sunset and setting up a new, never-before-erected tent in the dark was an interesting experience; however, the tent went up quickly enough that Rich and I were able to relax and enjoy a beer and conversation before turning in for the night. In the morning, after getting a good look at the canyon forest, I decided this might be a good spot to hang one of my Lindgren funnel traps before hanging the jug traps further up in Cedar Canyon. There are many very large gum bumelia trees in addition to hackberries and red-cedars—surprising to me given the riparian nature of the forest, and I found a nice secluded spot to hang the trap, which was baited with 50:50 SRW/EtOH, before breaking camp and heading to Raptorroost Trail to access the upper reaches of Cedar Canyon.

Cedar Canyon represents a collapsed cave system, now appearing as a jagged, forested gash cutting deeply into the gently rolling gypsum landscape. The area first came to my attention in 2009, when I “discovered” a healthy population of Cylindera celeripes (swift tiger beetle)—then considered one of North America’s rarest tiger beetles—living in the sparsely-vegetated gypsum exposures above the canyon. Checking in with the park office to show them our permit, we were surprised to learn that I should have also contacted them ahead of time to apply for a “separate, park-specific” permit, which after a bit of wrangling and cajoling we were able to convince them to grant on the spot (the vagaries of state park permits, where “some” park managers have a tendency to want to demonstrate the fact that they have ultimate authority over their piece of the earth). While we waited, we enjoyed looking at the Saurophaganax maximus skull found somewhere in northwestern Oklahoma and on display in the park office. A relative of the smaller but better-known Allosaurus, S. maximus lived during the late Jurassic (150 mya) and was, at that time, the largest meat-eating dinosaur in North America.

*Saurophaganax maximus* was the largest meat-eating dinosaur in North America during the late Jurassic (150 mya). This skull was found somewhere in northwestern Oklahoma.

After receiving our “re-permit,” we headed for Cedar Canyon to hang three jug traps in the canyon forest. This was eventually done, with traps hung at three points in the forest of mostly red-cedar, hackberry, and gum bumelia. Hanging the traps in the canyon was quite difficult—the trail into and out of the canyon was steep and technical, and finding places to hang the traps where they were unlikely to be seen and disturbed by park visitors while still being accessible to me was even harder. Before accessing the canyon via Raptorsroost Trail and hanging the traps, however, we quickly became distracted by goings on in the gypsum/red clay shortgrass prairie above the canyon. We first noted Moneilema armatum (cactus beetles) on Opuntia macrorhiza (prairie pricklypear cactus), collecting about a dozen individuals.

*Moneilema armatum* (family Cerambycidae) on pad of *Opuntia macrorhiza* (prairie pricklypear cactus) in gypsum/red clay shortgrass prairie.

As we searched the cactus and the morning sun warmed things up, I also began noticing adults of Acmaeodera tubulus coming to the flowers in bloom, mostly Tradescantia occidentalis (western spiderwort) but also Pyrrhopappus pauciflorus (smallflower desert-chicory) and a yellow-flowered Oenethera sp. (primrose). I was rather surprised to see this eastern U.S. species occurring this far west in such a decidedly “western” habitat—surely this must be near the western limit of distribution for the species!

*Acmaeodera tubulus* (family Buprestidae) on flower of *Tradescantia occidentalis* (western spidorwort) in gypsum/red clay shortgrass prairie.

At any rate, hanging the traps and indulging our distractions burned about three hours (and finding/photographing a beautiful female collared lizard [Crotaphytus collaris] and a few other interesting things burned even more time), so we went back down to our previous night’s campsite, ate a quick lunch, and then headed towards our next stop.

Eastern collared lizard (*Crotaphytus collaris*) atop gypsum exposure.

Band-winged grasshopper (family Acrididae, subfamily Oedipodinae, tribe Hippiscini) nymph in gypsum/red clay shortgrass prairie.

*Escobaria missouriensis missouriensis* (Missouri foxtail cactus) in gypsum/red clay shortgrass prairie.

Beaver Dunes City Park (Beaver Co.)
Beaver Dunes is a former state park, now a city park managed by the nearby city of Beaver primarily for ORVs. Despite the impacts on the dunes, there remain vast areas of the dunes that are closed to traffic and, thus, not impacted by ORV traffic and boasting a unique dune flora and fauna. Bordering the dunes on the east is a riparian zone boasting large Populus deltoides (eastern cottonwood) trees and smaller Celtis reticulata (netleaf hackberry) and Robinia pseudoacacia (black locust) trees. Notably, some years ago I collected a nice series of Poecilonota cyanipes (family Buprestidae) off the stunted cottonwoods in and around the tent campground—the only time I have collected this species other than a single individual up in Michigan even more years ago. We first drove through the tent campground and then the picnic area to scope out a camping spot and decide exactly where I wanted to hang the traps. Ultimately, I decided neither location was suitable for the traps as the wooded areas were adjacent to either dunes or prairie with little woody vegetation and where prevailing winds were likely to carry most of the scent emanating from the traps. Instead, I decided to hang them in a strip of woodland stretching north off the RV campground (Pioneer Campground).

Afterwards we explored the dunes, immediately finding several Batyle ignicollis apparently bedded down on the inflorescence of Styllingia sylvatica (Queen’s delight). I have seen this species doing the same thing on a previous visit some years ago, and in that case many individuals were found on many plants. In this case, however, beyond the three individuals seen on this first plant (two of which escaped as I tried to photograph them!), only one more individual on one other plant was seen.

*Batyle ignicollis* (family Cerambycidae) on inflorescence of *Styllingia sylvatica* in sand dune.

A couple of tenebrionids crossing the road were picked up before working our way to the picnic area and exploring the dunes in their vicinity. There was surprisingly little in bloom—primarily S. sylvatica and just a few sparsely blooming Penstemon fendleri (Fendler’s penstemon). We checked the former, finding only a few Euphoria kernii (all three color forms), one E. sepulchralis, and the one additional B. ignicollis on the former and nothing on the latter. The only other insects seen, or at least collected, were a large(ish) weevil on a grass stem and a Cicindela formosa (big sand tiger beetle). After exploring for a while and not seeing much activity, it seemed that further searching was “beating a dead horse,” so we started back towards the car. Along the way, I decided to beat once again the Celtis reticulata (netleaf hackberry) trees dotting the roadside and, unlike my earlier (limited) attempts, was immediately rewarded with a couple of Chrysobothris purpureovittata (family Buprestidae). Further beating continued to produce additional specimens as well as a few Agrilus lecontei and/or A. paracelti, and by the time I finished beating the last tree I had collected perhaps 12–15 C. purpureovittata and 6–8 Agrilus spp. I felt this was a happy note on which to end the day’s collecting, and we decided to run into town to look for dinner (we ended up bringing carry-out pizza back to the campground and enjoying it with a beer!).

Day 3—Beaver Dunes City Park (cont.)
Overnight it rained heavily (which I did not hear, despite being in a tent), so before heading off to the Black Mesa area we checked out the dunes to see if we could find fresh tracks. We found a few deer tracks, a nice long stretch of wild turkey tracks, and some small tracks that most likely belong to red fox.

Fresh tracks in the sand—possibly red fox.

Black Mesa State Park (Cimarron Co.)
Black Mesa State Park and Preserve are tucked into the extreme corner of northwestern Oklahoma, and it is here where “east” truly turns to “west.” Miles of shortgrass prairie suddenly give way, shortly before the park, to chaparral dotted with Cylindropuntia imbricata (cholla) and Juniperus monosperma (one-seed juniper). Arriving in the park after our 3½-hour drive straight west, we checked in at the office to show our permit (no hassle or “extra” permit needed), reserved our spot in the tent campground, and ate a quick lunch before heading to the Scenic Overlook where I’d planned to hang a set of traps in the hackberry/soapberry wooded ravine below the overlook. This was eventually done, but again we were distracted right off the bat when we noticed plants abundantly in flower around the parking lot. I quickly found a few Acmaeodera that I could not immediately identify—obviously members of the A. mixta/pulchella/immaculata group, but they are tiny, much smaller than any of those species! Most were on flowers of Tetraneuris acaulis (stemless four-nerve daisy), a few were on flowers of Melampodium leucanthum (blackfoot daisy), and one was on flower of Xanthisma spinulosum (spiny goldenweed). I’ll be anxious to get a better look at them once I return home. Traps successfully hung, we then headed to the next spot a short drive north of the state park.

A species in the *Acmaeodera mixta*/*pulchella*/*immaculata* group (family Buprestidae), but tiny! On flower of *Tetraneuris acaulis* (stemless four-nerve daisy) in shortgrass prairie.

1.6 mi E Kenton on Hwy 325 (Cimarron Co.)
I’ve visited this sandstone outcropping colonized by an interesting oak identified on iNaturalist as Quercus × undulata (wavyleaf oak)—a naturally occurring hybrid between Q. gambelii and Q. turbinella and that occurs more typically in Utah and the Intermountain West. This seems to be the easternmost occurrence of this hybrid, and while I’m in no position to vouch for the veracity of the identification, I do think there could be some interesting beetles associated with it. The outcropping is also colonized by two other decidedly western trees—Pinus edulis (Colorado pinyon) and Juniperus monosperma (one-seed juniper), both of which seem to be at their eastern natural limit here and which could host some interesting western insects as well. Unfortunately, my previous visits (early May through mid-June) all seemed to be at the wrong season (too dry), although on my last visit (early June last year) I did manage to collect a nice number and variety of Acmaeodera, including a new state record (A. quadrivittatoides)! Once again, there seemed to be little going on—just a few Nemognatha blister beetles and some tiny flies on the various yellow composite flowers found in bloom—despite the series of Acmaeodera collected down the road within the state park. Perhaps it was more due to the thick cloud cover with distant rain showers that had moved into the area than the time of season, but the oaks very recently leafed out and just now flowering still suggests it is early in the season here. Nevertheless, I hung the last set of traps in the oak/pine/juniper woodland atop the outcropping and look forward to seeing what might turn up in them later this season.

*Nemognatha nigripennis*? (family Meloidae) on flower *Xanthisma spinulosum* (spiny goldenweed) in shortgrass prairie.

Dinosaur Tracks (Cimarron Co.)
Hanging traps at the state park and the sandstone outcropping just north of the park took a few hours but still left us with some time to explore the area and I wanted to show Rich the famous dinosaur tracks found just across the road from Black Mesa Preserve. There is no signage, and 10 years having passed since the last time I saw them, so I wasn’t sure I would be able to find them. Fortunately, a little Google sleuthing paid off and we came right to the spot. The tracks—apparently made by a theropod (one of the carnivorous groups)—were discovered in the early 1980s and are on private land but are open to the public during daylight hours. We were fortunate that it had rained the previous night, which filled the tracks with water and made them especially visible in the sandstone rock at the bottom of the creek in which they were exposed. The largest, deepest, and best-preserved of the dozen or so tracks that are still visible (many are covered by mud) measure approximately 16” across and clearly show the 3-toed footprint typical of theropod dinosaurs. Given their size, perhaps they were made by Saurophaganax maximus!

Dinosaur tracks (likely a therapod) in creek bed near Black Mesa Preserve.

Black Mesa Preserve (Cimarron Co.)
I had considered hanging a set of traps adjacent to this location, but I saw little suitable habitat in the area, save possibly for the ribbon of large cottonwoods lining nearby Carrizo Creek. Regardless, since I had already placed two other sets at the nearby sandstone outcropping and a bit further south at the state park, I felt my coverage of the area was sufficient. To pass the remaining time, Rich and I hiked through the juniper chaparral on the north side of the mesa. The area still had an “early spring” feel to it, with yucca and cholla barely beginning to throw up or develop their flower stalks/buds and the whole area looking like it needed a good rain. Correspondingly, there was almost no insect activity to speak of—we found lone individuals of Leptinotarsa decemlineata (Colorado potato beetle) and Eleodes sp. (clown beetle) crawling on the trail, and I collected a single Omorgus sp. (skin beetle). Whatever thoughts we had of ascending the mesa and hiking to the High Point Monument were dashed when our legs—already tired from the day’s previous hikes—began to protest and cried “Enough!” Turning around before the kiosk leading to the mesa top turned out fortuitous, as suddenly plummeting temperatures and the threat of rain caused us to make our way back to the car with some sense of urgency. It began raining as soon as we reached the car, and we were ecstatic to find “The Merc” open and serving up dinner in nearby Kenton (the only Oklahoma City in the Mountain Time Zone!).

*Leptinotarsa decemlineata* (Colorado potato beetle, family Chrysomelidae) in juniper chaparral.

Dinner at Mercantile Cafe (“The Merc”) in Kenton—the only city in Oklahoma in the Mountain Time Zone.

After dinner, we returned to the campground and enjoyed what turned out to be only a brief respite from the rain—long enough to enjoy a beer—before getting chased into the tent as it picked back up again. It would rain most of the night and all the next day as we made the long drive back to St. Louis, but with 18 traps hung in six distinct habitats and some interesting beetles in the bottles it was hard to be disappointed. Stay tuned for updates as I begin checking the traps next month.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2023

Snake Road

April 16, 2023April 16, 2023 / Ted C. MacRae / 2 Comments

Last fall, my good friend Richard Thoma and I visited “Snake Road” is a famous snake viewing area in southern Illinois—part of the LaRue-Pine Hills/Otter Pond Research Natural Area. Early October is prime season for viewing snakes there, principally northern cottonmouths (a.k.a. water moccasins—Agkistrodon piscivorus) as they move from the wetlands on the west side of the road to the towering limestone bluffs on the east side seeking crevices in which to shelter for the winter. With a string of cool nights and sunny skies and a forecasted high of 78°F, we couldn’t have picked a better day to look for them.

Shafts of morning sunlight stream through the forest.

We arrived a little after 9am, so conditions were still a bit too cool for the snakes. Shafts of morning sunlight streaming through the trees were a sight to behold, and we used the opportunity to notice some plants that we’d not seen before, including two species of goldenrod—i.e., Solidago caesia (bluestem goldenrod) and S. flexicaulis (broadleaved or zigzag goldenrod), Decodon verticillatus (swamp loosestrife), and Laportea canadensis (wood nettle). I noticed small green berry-like structures on some of the latter, which I at first took to be fruits, but something about them said “gall” and I cut one open to find a small insect larva inside verifying this to be the case. I presume this to gall to have been caused by Dasineura investita (wood nettle gall midge) in the family Cecidomyidae.

*Solidago caesia* (blue-stemmed goldenrod) in mesic bluff base forest.

Inflorescence of *Solidago caesia* (blue-stemmed goldenrod) in mesic bluff base forest.

*Solidago flexicaulis* (broadleaved or zigzag goldenrod) in mesic bluff base forest.

Inflorescence of *Solidago flexicaulis* (broadleaved or zigzag goldenrod) in mesic bluff base forest.

*Decodon verticillatus* (waterwillow or swamp loosestrife) in Mississippi River floodplain oxbow lake.

*Laportea canadensis* (Canada nettle or wood-nettle) in mesic bluff base forest.

Gall on *Laportea canadensis* (Canada nettle or wood-nettle), presumably caused by *Dasineura investita* (wood nettle gall midge).

Dissected *Dasineura investita* (wood nettle gall midge) gall on *Laportea canadensis* (Canada nettle or wood-nettle) revealing the larval inhabitant.

As we hiked south along the road (closed to automobiles during spring and fall to protect the migrating snakes), and especially when temperatures climbed above 70°F, we began looking in earnest for snakes, reasoning that they might best be found by searching along the base of the bluffs and in nearby crevices. We searched one particularly promising rock ledge without success, then encountered a spring draining from the main bluffs and followed it to the base, where we split up and looked along the base in both directions. My direction took me around a bend and up the hillside, with many nice-looking crevices but no snakes in them, and when I reached to top of the exposed bluff face I turned back and retraced my steps. Just after reaching the bottom I noticed movement near where I’d taken a step, and there it was—a gorgeously-marked juvenile cottonmouth! I called Rich over, and together we spent about a half-hour taking turns trying to get the perfect photograph of the snake while trying to minimize the degree to which we disturbed it (lest it make a dash for the nearest crevice, or worse yet, take a lunge at one of us). The majority of the photos shown here are of this individual, and the only photo I wish I would have gotten was one with a fully-extended, flickering tongue.

Juvenile northern cottonmouth (*Agkistrodon piscivorus*).

Our spirits buoyed by the experience, we bushwhacked back to the road and almost immediately encountered not one but two fully mature individuals—both having already lost the distinctive patterning seen on the juvenile but beautiful nonetheless. We spent more time photographing these as well, as we were able to get several great shots of the distinctly marked throat and mandible as they reared their heads in cautious defiance. I used the big camera exclusively for these shots, as they were much too large and I would have had to have gotten much too dangerously close to photograph them with my iPhone (look for photos to appear eventually on my natural history blog—‘Beetles in the Bush’).

Further south we found an exposed bluff face very close to the road, and several additional mature individuals were seen there—two deeply ensconced within their chosen crevice but one fully exposed (two photos here) who even cooperated by gaping his mouth in alarm to show off the cottony-pink tissues inside.

Adult northern cottonmouth (*Agkistrodon piscivorus*).

Adult northern cottonmouth (*Agkistrodon piscivorus*) with mouth agape, revealing the cottony-pink tissues inside that give rise to its common name.

In all, we would see nine individuals by the time we hiked to the southern parking lot and turned around, and on the way back, not trying nearly as hard and making a more direct line to the car, we would see another five individuals (two of which could have been individuals we’d seen on the way out) for a total of 14. We also watched in amazement as a tiny juvenile eastern yellow-bellied racer (Coluber constrictor flaviventris) chased down a fly on the road before dashing back towards the forest, and we were particularly amused by a nine-banded armadillo (Dasypus novemcinctus) who lumbered stupidly out of the underbrush straight towards us, completely unaware of our presence until Rich made a sudden movement with his hand that sent the little brute scurrying back into the underbrush.

Nine-banded armadillo (*Dasypus novemcinctus*).

Almost as we reached the car, we found a ribbon snake (Thamnophis sauritus) stretched out across the road. Snake sightings notwithstanding, the return hike back to the car was not nearly as enjoyable as the hike out, as by this time quite a number of other people had shown up and we no longer had the place to ourselves. I can only imagine what it must be like here during the weekend! Nevertheless, we couldn’t have imagined a more successful and enjoyable outing than the one we experienced today.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2022

BitB Bits: March 2023

April 8, 2023April 8, 2023 / Ted C. MacRae / 2 Comments

Welcome to a new series that I’m calling “BitB Bits,” an irregular collection of random natural history observations recorded in my notes over the previous month. The individual snippets are, by themselves, too short for stand-alone posts, but I hope that readers will find their collective and chronological nature interesting and informative.

March 9. Welcome home walk. Good to be home and glad to see we didn’t miss the start of spring here. Non-native daffodils are blooming everywhere (I must admit they make an impressive display); however, we also have our first native blooming plant—spicebush (Lindera benzoin). Apparently only the male plants are blooming so far (distinguished by their flowers with stamens/anthers only but lacking a central pistil); the female plants should follow suit shortly.

March 12. Spring on hold. Now that spicebush is in bloom, a succession of flowering trees and shrubs should follow. Fragrant sumac (Rhus aromatica) would be the next to follow, but the rain of the last few days has put it on hold. The buds are swollen and ready, however, to burst forth on the next sunny day.

March 13. In my happy place. I didn’t get enough hiking at St. Francois State Park to satisfy my desires, so on the way back home I decided to stop off at Victoria Glades, one of my favorite places, and walk the perimeter of the main glade. I don’t think there’s another place on earth where I feel more connected to myself as a naturalist than here. I first visited way back in 1983 – the year after I moved to St. Louis after finishing grad school, and every year for the next eight years I came here once or twice per week throughout the summer to collect insects. I essentially “grew up“ here as an entomologist! In the time since moving back to St. Louis (now 27 years ago), I have resumed my regular visits – more in some years, less in others, and each time I do I feel rejuvenated. I have instructed Madam to sprinkle my ashes here (at least some of them) – if I depart and you happen to read this, please follow up with her to make sure that she does just that!

Victoria Glades Conservation Area, Jefferson Co., Missouri

March 15. Beware the Ides of March. On this day, in 44 B.C., Julius Caesar was stabbed to death by a mob of Roman senators led by his friend Brutus. The senators believed that Julius had consolidated too much power (he had only a year earlier been named dictator for life and was implementing sweeping imperialist offensives in an effort to expand Roman territory), and that his death would lead to the restoration of the Republic. Sadly (or fortunately, depending upon your perspective), the “Ides of March” plunged Rome into centuries of civil war that ultimately led to utter collapse by the 5th century. In the final years of the empire, a series of emperors took the throne in quick succession (usually after the murder of their predecessor by the Praetorian Guard, the emperor’s personal bodyguards), each of whom plundered the state while they had the opportunity. The Roman Senate, engaged in their own corrupt practices and suffering from incompetence, was unable to curb the excesses of these emperors, leading to a waning of civic pride and loss of trust by the Roman citizenry before the final collapse.

March 17. C-c-cold! Once again, the bright sunshine was deceptive, belying how cold it really was – especially with that wind! Temps plummeted even further once the sun set, but the views around my home are still spectacular.

March 21. Still waiting… …for native blooms to begin. Until then, here is yet another non-native early bloomer—Scilla forbesii (Forbes’ glory-of-the-snow), which invaded the woods near my home after a neighbor planted some in their woodland garden. They are not nearly the problem that some other invasives are (like bush honeysuckle or burning bush) in that they don’t smother out nearby native plants, but they can provide a pollinating “sink” that competes for insects that would otherwise be pollinating the flowers of native plants.

*Scilla forbesii* (Forbes’ glory-of-the-snow)

March 22. Vernal equiNOT. Spring began two days ago, yet I’m still waiting for the first appearance of any native wildflowers in the neighborhood. Until that happens, here is yet another non-native species—the thankfully noninvasive hyacinth—that my neighbor planted in their garden.

March 24. Spring at last, spring at last, thank God Almighty, spring at last! Finally, after sitting dormant for more than a week, the flowers of Rhus aromatica (fragrant sumac) have opened—in my opinion the true opening salvo of spring. Even so, it’s not like the weather suddenly turned spring-like, but more like the sumacs finally said F this and decided to open despite the continued dreary conditions.

March 25. How do snail’s eyes differ from slug’s? They don’t—they’re both eye tentacles. 🥁

*Mesodon thyroidus* (white-lipped globe snail)

March 26. Spring beauty. Now that spring is truly here, Claytonia virrginica (spring beauty)—the icon of spring ephemeral wildflowers—has begun popping up everywhere.

March 26. Water spider. I saw this large fly sitting on the curb. Of course, I knew it was a crane fly—a member of the family Tipulidae, but I hear people often confuse them for a “giant mosquito.” There is no such thing, and while I admit that they do look superficially like a mosquito on steroids (they happen to be distantly related to mosquitos), they do not bite or suck blood—arguably the most important part about being a mosquito. In fact, crane flies often do not eat anything once they become adults, with some species even lacking functional mouthparts. The family name is derived from the Latin word for “water spider,” perhaps because the larvae live in water and have a ring of tentacles around their head—just guessing. Anyway, I snapped a few pics of the little guy before he feebly began flapping his wings in the chilly air and took flight, probably looking for something to not eat.

March 28. Back to winter (midge). A few tantalizingly warm, sunny days had my hopes up that spring was finally here, but the return of cool, wet conditions have brought back that late winter feel. Perhaps appropriately, one of the first insects I’ve seen this season is this small, mosquito-looking fly that is actually a distant relative belonging to a group known as winter midges (genus Diamesa—also called snow midges—in the family Chironomidae). As their common names imply, the adult flies are seen active primarily during winter and can even be seen walking about on snow during warm spells during the winter (a scenario mimicked by the styrofoam on which this individual was photographed). Like the crane flies that I featured a couple days ago, winter midges do not feed as adults—if only for lack of suitable food sources, while the larvae feed on organic debris in cold, running water.

March 29. What’s up, buttercup? Buttercups are popping up in the “more natural“ lawns of my neighborhood. We have a number of species buttercups in Missouri – this one is Ranunculus harveyi (Harvey’s buttercup). In general, you can distinguish buttercups by their small, bright yellow flowers and bristle of anthers surrounding the central disc.

*Ranunculus harveyi* (Harvey’s buttercup)

March 30. Bloodroot. I made a rather exciting wildflower find in the woodlands around my house this morning—a small patch of Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot) with (thus far) but a single bloom. This poppy relative (family Papaveraceae) is so named because of red, fleshy root, which gets its color from alkaloids, chiefly sanguinarine, in its toxic sap. First Americans traditionally used bloodroot to treat fever, rheumatism, ulcers, ringworm, and skin infections, and it is still used to produce natural red, orange, and pink dyes. There is likely some truth to the bioactive properties of bloodroot alkaloids, as they are currently being studied for use as anti-cancer agents, particularly for the treatment of skin cancer, and as a dissolving agent for skin growths such as warts. Bloodroot is also interesting from a natural history standpoint in that the seeds have fleshy appendages that are attractive to ants. The ants collect the seeds and bring them to their nest, thus effecting dispersal of the seeds. This is an advantage for these small plants growing in wooded habitats, where wind speeds are usually too low to aid natural seed dispersal.

March 31. Sweet William. I saw these plants yesterday while their blooms were still closed and wondered if they would open before March closed out. I normally think of Phlox divaricata (sweet William) as a mid-April bloomer, but clearly it can begin earlier if conditions are right (as they have been the past several days).

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2023

Day hike at Little Lost Creek Conservation Area

April 3, 2023April 4, 2023 / Ted C. MacRae / 6 Comments

Today the WGNSS Botany Group visited Little Lost Creek Conservation Area to see Dirca palustris (eastern leatherwood) in bloom. Leatherwood is a distinctive, slow-growing shrub that occurs sporadically in primarily the Ozark and Ozark Border region of Missouri. Like the much more Lindera benzoin (common spicebush), the flowers open in spring before the foliage appears, during which time the planta are easily identified by the pendulous blooms surrounded by wooly bracts. The species has toxic properties and was used by First Americans as an emetic, and it has been cultivated for many years despite its sporadic natural occurrence. As the name implies (palustris means “growing in a swamp”), the plant grows in moist (though not necessarily swampy) habitats, and as such we would have to hike across the dry-mesic upland deciduous forest and down into the riparian forests along Little Lost Creek where the plant can be found.

With sharply warmer temperatures arriving yesterday after a rather protracted cool period, the early-flowering trees and shrubs were ready and waiting, seemingly popping open before our very eyes. A patch of Prunus americana (American plum) in a more open area along the trail caught our attention, it’s blooms just beginning to open. We based our identification on the shrubby growth habit and apparently clonal nature of the stand of plants, which distinguishes P. americana from the closely related P. mexicana (Mexican plum), which generally grows as more tree-like individual plants.

Also in the more open areas along the trail was Rhus aromatica (fragrant sumac) in full bloom. I stopped to examine one particular individual with especially dense clusters of inflorescences and noticed movement on the flowers. Closer examination revealed a crab spider (family Thomisidae) which I took to be Mecaphesa asperata (northern crab spider)—perfectly camouflaged on the bright yellow flowers and awaiting the arrival of an unsuspecting bee or other pollinator.

*Mecaphesa asperata* (northern crab spider) on on flower of Rhus aromatica (fragrant sumac).

As the trail veered directly into the forest, I noticed several butterfly species—a Vanessa atalanta (red admiral) that paused briefly on the trail before bolting erratically into the distance, several Eurytides marcellus (zebra swallowtail), presumably males patrolling for females among stands of the still leafless Asimina triloba (pawpaw) which it utilizes as a larval host, and—most interesting for me—several Anthocharis midea (falcate orangetip) which, for the time being, frustratingly refused to perch and allow even an attempt at a photograph.

As the trail began the long descent into the valley and the forest became increasingly mesic, spring ephemerals began appearing on the forest floor in abundance. Most abundant was Claytonia virginica (spring beauty) and Cardamine concatenata (cutleaf toothwort), which have been in bloom for some time now, but finally making their appearance as well were Sanguinaria canadensis (bloodroot)—the first seen being a charming little patch nestled against a rock—a single blooming plant among the stands of Erythronium albidum (white trout lily), and several still-unblooming Trillium sp. (wakerobin).

*Erythronium albidum* (white trout lily).

At last we reached the valley floor, and immediately the leatherwood plants were seen in abundance and in full bloom. Leatherwood plants in bloom are not among the showiest of blooming shrubs, but the distinctiveness of their flowers, sporadic occurrence, and lack of close relatives provided ample botanical interest that resulted in me spending a fair bit of time observing and photographing them.

*Dirca palustris* (eastern leatherwood).

As I looked at the leatherhood, I encountered a an unusual cocoon-like structure at the tip of one of its branches. Closer examination revealed it to be “packed” white tiny, white, grub-like larvae, at which time I noticed the cadaver of a moth caterpillar also clinging to the branch tip. I knew then that the grubs were the mature larvae of a parasitic wasp in the family Braconidae, likely in the subfamily Microgastrinae, that had just exited their host and were spinning cocoons nearby in communal fashion. (Many people have seen one of these wasps in the form of cocoons on the backs of tomato hornworm caterpillars.) Braconid wasps are often quite host specific, but a more specific identification is difficult since the identity of the caterpillar itself or whether it was utilizing Dirca as a host plant are also unknown.

Braconid larvae, possibly subfamily Microgastrinae, spinning communal cocoons after exiting unidentified lepidopteran caterpillar on *Dirca palustris*.

If the spring ephemerals were abundant during the descent, they were overwhelming in the valley proper. A few blooming plants of Collinsia verna (blue-eyed Mary), a winter annual were seen, their distinctive bicolored white and blue flowers a pleasant contrast to the mostly white to pinkish color of the majority of the ephemerals. Some especially large-flowered individuals of bloodroot were seen underneath a patch of blooming leatherwoods, prompting me to spend a bit more time photographing them. As I was doing so, I found it ironically humorous that I was crouched on the ground photographing what is by all measures a rather common plant while surrounded by a much less frequently encountered plant.

The hike back up out of the valley was long and deliberate, the pitch in some stretches reaching as steep as I ever encounter on trails in the state, but the slow pace allowed an opportunity to look for things missed on the way down. At one point I picked up a fallen oak branch that looked like it might have been pruned by a twig pruner (Anelaphus sp.), a type of longhorned beetle (family Cerambycidae) whose larvae feed within living branches of deciduous trees—primarily oak—and then cut the branch internally before pupation. The cut end is distinctive, and I checked the base of the branch to see if it demonstrated this distinctive cut pattern. It did not, but I explained what I was looking for to a curious member of our group. Just as I finished the explanation, I saw another oak branch laying on the trail, picked it up to examine the base, and, sure enough, it exhibited the cut. I believe the branch is that of black oak (Quercus velutina), and I kept the branch to place within a rearing box so I can see the adult when it emerges later this spring.

Along the final stretch back to the parking lot, the falcate orangetip butterflies continued to torment me with their erratic, never-ending flight. I watched a few after reaching the parking lot, hoping one would alight and give a chance to photograph it, but no such luck. At the edge of the parking lot I noticed some Taraxacum sp. (dandelion) flowers with small insects on them, which turned out to be Acmaeodera tubulus—usually the first jewel beetles (family Buprestidae) to appear in the spring and commonly found on dandelions. I crouched to take a few photographs, and as I was doing so a falcate orangetip butterfly landed on the dandelion flower right next to the one with the beetles I was photographing. I managed to get one shot of the butterfly, it’s wings not well spread out but the orange tips still easily visible, before it took flight again—a nice punctuation to end the outing with.

*Acmaeodera tubulus* on on flower of Taraxacum sp. (dandelion).

*Anthocharis midea* (falcate orangetip) on flower of *Taraxacum* sp. (dandelion).

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2023

Botanizing the Scour Trail at Johnson’s Shut-Ins State Park

November 22, 2022November 22, 2022 / Ted C. MacRae / Leave a comment

It’s been too long since I’ve been able to go out with the WGNSS Botany Group on their weekly Monday outing—a consequence of travel and renovations on top of the frenetic-as-usual insect-collecting season. The result is that my attendance on the Botany Group outings is semi-regular during fall/winter but spotty at best during spring/summer. That may seem exactly the opposite of what would be optimum for studying plants, but as a naturalist to the core I have no trouble finding things of interest no matter the season. Especially when the destination is a place as fascinatingly diverse as Johnson’s Shut-Ins State Park—best known previously for its rhyolite “shut-ins” but now mostly for the gashing scour zone that was ripped across it in Dec 2005 when a catastrophic failure of the reservoir atop nearby Proffit Mountain released one billion gallons of water that tore through the landscape in a matter of 12 minutes. The geology exposed by the scour and the living experiment of biological succession that began afterwards are both fascinating, making the Scour Trail one of the Missouri Ozarks’ most interesting day hikes.

17-year-old “scour zone” below Proffit Mountain Reservoir.

Our chief target for the day was Hamamelis virginiana (common or American witch-hazel), which blooms in November and December and is restricted in Missouri to a few counties in the St. Francois Mountains and the extreme southwestern corner of the state. Interestingly, there is a second species of witch hazel—H. vernalis (Ozark witch hazel), more common in Missouri but much more restricted globally—that occurs here, but as it blooms later in winter (January/February) we did not expect to see it on this trip. We found the former reliably, though not abundantly, and among the last plants we found in bloom were some with the freshest (and best-illuminated by the low-angled sun) flowers. At one point while we were still within the dry-mesic upland deciduous forest uphill from the scour zone, we saw a nice colony of the patch-forming Diarrhena obovata (beak grass). This is an attractive grass that does well in shade and should be utilized more as an ornamental.

*Diarrhena obovata* (beak grass) in dry-mesic upland deciduous forest.

The overlook provided a stunning overview of the scour zone from an elevated vantage—the since rebuilt Proffit Mountain Reservoir rising ominously above it as an almost deliberate reminder of its potential power—before the descent down into the scour zone. It’s an almost alien landscape with an irregular, unweathered floor of exposed bedrock strewn with rocks ranging from pebbles to boulders. Sycamore and willow are the early leaders in the now 17-year-old race to recolonize the barren swath of land, but lack of toeholds for roots to grow is a bigger problem for this future forest than lack of sunlight by taller neighbors. At one point, we spotted a large bush heavily laden with dense clusters of berries atop a pile of rocks. While the more astute botanists in the group recognized it for what it was, I was dumbfounded as to its identity until it was revealed to me to be none other than Toxicodendron radicans (poison ivy)—the largest, densest, most heavily berry-laden “bush” form of the species I have ever seen. So impressive it was that seven botanists gave it much more than just a trifling look.

“Bush” form of *Toxicodendron radicans* (eastern poison ivy).

Dense clusters of berries on “bush” form of *Toxicodendron radicans* (eastern poison ivy).

About halfway down the scour zone we encountered the “great unconformity”—previously hidden by topsoil and forest but now exposed. Here, knobs of 1.3 billion-year-old granite are surrounded by 540 million-year-old dolomite deposited atop the granite in the shallow Cambrian seas that once covered all but the tallest of these by then already ancient knobs—mere nubs of the towering mountains they once were but worn down nearly to sea level by nearly a billion years of relentless rain and wind. The exposures of pink granite, their large embedded crystals glistening sharply in the sunlight, contrasted starkly with the dark gray dolomite surround them, representing an incomprehensible gap of nearly 800 million years in the record of Earth’s history preserved in the rocks. The entire history of multicellular life on Earth could be swallowed by such a gap!

Unconformity with 1.3 billion-year-old Precambrian granite (pink rock) surrounded by 540 million-year-old Cambrian dolomite (gray rock) in scour zone below Profitt Mountain

As an entomologist, I cannot ever stop being on the lookout for insects, no matter what the season. Even though temps were well on the chilly side, I still managed to discern a couple of small wolf spiders, and somehow I managed to see a small ant cadaver on a twig that had succumbed to an insect-pathogenic fungus in the Ophiocordyceps unilateralis complex. Even the botanists around me started taking advantage of the opportunity for insect education. Len and Michael noticed a gall on a small Quercus muhlenbergii (chinquapin oak) which turned out to be the work of Disholcaspis quercusglobulus (round bullet gall wasp), and John noticed a colony of Prociphilus tessellatus (woolly alder aphid) on Alnus glutinosa (European alder). Closer inspection revealed an adult Harmonia axyridis (Asian lady beetle) preying upon the aphids.

Small wolf spider (family Lycosidae) on moss-covered rock in dry-mesic upland deciduous forest.

*Pardosa* sp. (thin-legged wolf spider) on exposed granite in 17-year old scour zone through dry-mesic upland deciduous forest.

*Ophiocordyceps unilateralis* complex insect-pathogenic fungus infecting ant (family Formicidae) in dry-mesic, deciduous, upland forest.

*Disholcaspis quercusglobulus* (round bullet gall wasp) on *Quercus muhlenbergii* (chinquapin oak) in dry deciduous upland forest.

*Harmonia axyridis* (Asian lady beetle) preying upon *Prociphilus tessellatus* (woolly alder aphid) on *Alnus glutinosa* (European alder)

It was as enjoyable an outing as I’d hoped (how can four hours in the woods be anything BUT enjoyable), and I hope not to let so much time pass before the next time I’m able to join the group!

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2022

A rare opportunity to do fall insect collecting in western North America

September 12, 2022September 14, 2022 / Ted C. MacRae / 10 Comments

Madam and I are staying in South Lake Tahoe this week, so today I took advantage of this rare opportunity to do some fall insect collecting in western North America. In many insect groups, most species have finished their business for the season by the time autumn arrives. This is especially true for my beloved longhorned beetles, whose spring/early summer flush is now but a distant memory. There are a few genera of longhorned beetles, however, that wait precisely until autumn before making their appearance—Megacyllene and Tragidion being the best-known examples in eastern North America, and Crossidius being the best known out west. I adore autumn collecting, both in the east and in the west—its cooler temperatures and lower humidity make conditions incredibly pleasant, and the longer shadows cast by a low-hanging sun make the landscape—gently morphing from monotonous tones of greens to dazzling shades of amber, tawny, and gold—even more stunning.

*Ericameria nauseosa* (rubber rabbitbrush) blooming in the valley below a smoke-shrouded eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada.

I figured my best shot for Crossidius was in the sagebrush habitat below the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada, so I took the Kingsbury Grade over Dagget Pass and found some good looking habitat near Genoa with nice stands of Ericameria nauseosa (rubber rabbitbrush)—host of Crossidius coralinus—in peak bloom. It took quite a bit of work to find the beetles, and for the first half-hour the only insects I saw were non-native honey bees (eventually I did see a few native bees as well, which I collected for Mike Arduser). I also checked some Asclepias speciosa (showy milkweed) that I found hoping to find Tetraopes femoratus (red-femured milkweed borer) but saw only Polistes dominula (European paper wasp).

*Polistes dominula* (European paper wasp) on *Asclepias speciosa* (showy milkweed) planted in sagebrush habitat.

After quite a bit of seeching, I finally found a Crossidius adult, although it was not C. coralinus but rather the all-black C. ater.

*Crossidius ater* on inflorescence of *Ericameria nauseosa* (rubber rabbitbrush) in sagebrush habitat.

Very quickly afterwards, however, I found the first C. coralinus, and over the next half-hour I collected about a dozen males and females of C. coralinus and one more C. ater.

*Crossidius coralinus temprans* on inflorescence of *Ericameria nauseosa* (rubber rabbitbrush) in sagebrush habitat.

Crossidius coralinus has been divided into several subspecies based on differences in markings and coloration across its geographical range—in this area, the species is assignable to subspecies C. coralinus temprans. I did a final check of the stands near where I parked and found one more adult C. coralinus, after which I decided I’d seen enough and went to another spot to look for different species of Crossidius.

Newly-hatched stink bug (superfamily Pentatomoidea) nymphs on inflorescence of *Ericameria nauseosa* (rubber rabbitbrush) in sagebrush habitat.

After having such good luck with C. coralinus on E. nauseosa, I went a few miles further north to Jack’s Valley Habitat Management Area where I saw a different species of rabbitbrush (Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus, or yellow rabbitbrush) in bloom.

*Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus* (yellow rabbitbrush) blooming in the valley below a smoke-shrouded eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada.

Yellow rabbitbrush is the host of a different species of Crossidius in this area—C. hirtipes, and I hoped I might be able to find this species as well. It didn’t take long, as I found a small female hiding in the inflorescence of one of the first rabbitbrush plants that I looked at. As sometimes happens, however, my early success was followed by an extended time without seeing another beetle.

Sagebrush habitat below the east slopes of a smoke-shrouded Sierra Nevada.

The plants were sparse in the sagebrush habitat, and I zigzagged my way from plant to plant going west from the trailhead. Despite the lack of beetles, there were other insects active on the flowers, including assassin bugs and digger wasps.

*Zelus tetracanthus* (four-spurred assassin bug) on inflorescence of *Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus* (yellow rabbitbrush) in sagebrush habitat.

*Sphex ichneumoneus* (great golden digger wasp) on inflorescence of *Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus* (yellow rabbitbrush) in sagebrush habitat.

Eventually, I came upon an area where the plants were more abundant, and I started encountering beetles more regularly, including several big males perched atop the flowers and another C. ater adult hiding inside the flowers on one of these same plants.

*Crossidius hirtipes immaculatus* on inflorescence of Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus (yellow rabbitbrush) in sagebrush habitat.

Bees—other than honey bees—were scarse, but I managed to pick up a few for Mike, and I also collected a few Eleodes sp. (desert stink beetles) that were, for some reason, crawling and perching on the rabbitbrush flowers. I’ve never thought of darkling beetles—at least those in the genus Eleodes—as anthophilous, and maybe this habit isn’t strict anthophily, per se, but it was remarkable to see so many of these beetles associated with the plants and hardly a single individual crawling about on the ground.

*Eleodes* sp. (desert stink bug) on inflorescence of *Chrysothamnus viscidiflorus* (yellow rabbitbrush) in sagebrush habitat.

After a couple hours worth of effort, I’d secured about a dozen C. hirtipes, which, like C. coralinus, has been assigned to several subspecies (populations in this area being assignable to subspecies C. hirtipes immaculatus)—enough for my purposes, and I left to head back up into the mountains.

Smoke and clouds combine above the eastern slope of the Sierra Nevada.

I’d hoped to find one more spot up in the mountains, but the sinking sun and rising elevation conspired to make conditions much too cool for all but the most persistent insects. I did stop at a powerline cut, where recently-cut Jeffrey pine (Pinus jeffreyi) trunks, stumps, and branches provided a perfect attractor for wood-boring beetles. Sadly, none were seen, even on the undersides of the logs and branches. Thus, my rare chance for fall insect collecting in western North America came to a close.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2022

Ghost pipes

August 31, 2022August 31, 2022 / Ted C. MacRae / Leave a comment

I’m always on the lookout for cool plants and critters during my daily walk with Beau and Madam, and today we saw one of the coolest plants ever — Monotropa uniflora (ghost pipes, Indian pipes).

This bizarre plant, a member of the blueberry family (Ericaceae), occurs throughout much of Missouri, but the plants seem to pop up sporadically and unpredictably and are difficult to locate intentionally. The common name derives from their unique shape, the nodding flowers — one atop each stem — giving the plant a pipe-shaped appearance, and their pure white coloration — a consequence of the complete absence of any chlorophyll in their tissues. As such, the plants are unable to photosynthesize and must obtain nutrition from decaying organic material on and in the soil, which they do with the aid of soil-inhabiting fungi that digest the matter into basic compounds that the plant can absorb.

The nodding flowers will eventually turn upwards as the fruits form and mature, so I am anxious to keep an eye on these plants as that happens over the next couple of weeks.

©️ Ted C. MacRae 2022

Art and Bob and Ted’s Excellent Adventure

August 23, 2022August 23, 2022 / Ted C. MacRae / 2 Comments

Back in mid-July, I was fortunate to have the chance to host a couple of beetle colleagues from out-of-state and to show them a few of Missouri’s premier habitats. Art Evans is a scarab specialist from Virginia who has published several books on beetles—most recently “Beetles of Eastern North America” and “Beetles of Western North America.” Bob Anderson is a weevil specialist from the Canadian National Collection in Ottawa. I’ve been in the field with Art a couple of times, both out west in Arizona, while this is my first time in the field with Bob. They are passing through as they work their way west for a 4-week collecting trip, and since neither has ever collected in Missouri it was a perfect opportunity to spend a few days together.

Sand Prairie Conservation Area

We met up at Sand Prairie Conservation Area in southeastern Missouri, which contains a high quality sand prairie remnant—one of Missouri’s rarest and most endangered natural communities. This is the place where a few years ago I discovered two scarab beetles not previously known to occur in Missouri—including Strategus antaeus (smooth ox beetle), the second largest beetle in eastern North America.

L-R: Me, Art Evans, and Bob Anderson (representing 195 years of entomological expertise!).

I was hoping there might still be jewel beetles (family Buprestidae) on the Quercus spp. (oaks) and Diospyros virginiana (persimmon) trees ringing the perimeter of the sand blowout area, and my hopes increased when I swept two Dicerca obscura off high branches of the latter. Those would be the last buprestids I saw there. Sweeping the high branches of Quercus marilandica (blackjack oak) and southern Q. falcata (red oak) produced only epitragine tenebrionids.

Me using a long-handled net to shake loose buprestids and cerambycids from *Diospyros virginiana* (persimmon). Photo by Art Evans.

I looked for live individuals of S. antaeus but, as is typical, only saw bits and pieces of carcasses near the base of certain oaks. Under one I did collect an almost intact female carcass (missing only the head), and the head and pronotum of a super-major male.

*Strategus antaeus* carcass remnants found under *Quercus marilandica* (post oak) at sand blow perimeter in xeric sand prairie remnant. Photo by Art Evans.

Continued sweeping of high branches finally produced something besides epitragines—an Enoclerus sp. Returning to the vehicles, I exchanged my long-handled net for a sweep net and swept the Polygonellum americanum (American jointweed), collecting only a single Cryptocephalus sp. For their part, Bob and Art collected a small variety of beetles, including some weevils that Bob found interesting.

*Stylisma pickeringii* (Pickering’s dawnflower) in dry sand prairie remnant.

Otter Slough Conservation Area

After Art and Bob had seen enough of Sand Prairie, I took them to Otter Slough Conservation Area. This area features sloughs and wet bottomland forests where I’ve collected many good species, most notably Agrilus concinnus—formerly considered very rare until I determined it to be a later-season species associated with species of Hibiscus (rose mallow)—and an undescribed species of Taphrocerus that I’ve found on Carex hyalinolepis here but nowhere else in the state (despite finding the host plant). I alerted Art and Bob to these possibilities and started down the 2-track where I’ve seen these species before.

My beating sheet has seen better days. Photo by Art Evans.

Unfortunately, the 2-track was completely overgrown to the point of being impassable (it’s been many years since I last walked it), so I opted instead to walk the perimeter of Mudsnake Marsh where I’ve also seen the two species. The marsh was dry—first time I’ve seen it like that, allowing me to check Hibiscus plants in the marsh interior as well as along the edge. No A. concinnus were seen on any of the plants—just a few Paragrilus tenuis and good numbers of Chaetocnema quadricollis (hibiscus flea beetle).

*Chaetocnema quadricollis* on *Hibiscus lasiocarpus* (rose mallow) in lowland wetland.

Failing to find A. concinnus, I swept the Carex along the perimeter on the edge of the wet bottomland forest side and even in a spot where I had collected Taphrocerus abundantly in previous years, but to no avail and finding instead only one chrysomelid. Collecting was slim at Sand Prairie, and it was even slimmer here at Otter Slough, so it appears seems we have definitely entered the “summer doldrums” stage of the collecting season—at least for beating and sweeping.

Owl-fly (family Myrmeleontidae), probably genus *Ululodes*, sweeping sedges in lowland wetland.

Holly Ridge Natural Area

After going into bearby Dexter to get a motel room and eat some dinner (Dexter Bar-B-Q pulled pork—pretty good!), I took Art and Bob to Holly Ridge Natural Area for an evening of blacklighting. I wanted to come here to 1) avoid the hoards of aquatic insects that would come to our sheets if we blacklighted at Otter Slough and 2) give myself a chance (however outside) of getting Saperda obliqua—known from only a single specimen collected at Hawn State Park but likely here as well due to the stands of Alnus serrulata (hazel alder).

Bob and Art agreed it looked like a good spot to blacklight when we arrived, so Art placed his light setup in the parking lot, while I placed mine about 100 meters into the mesic lowland deciduous forest. I had high hopes for the evening—it was warm (89°F) and humid, and we were two days past the full moon so moonlight would not be an issue for at least two hours after sunset.

Art Evans collects beetles at a mercury-vapor light.

A lot of insects ended up coming to the lights, but not a lot of cerambycids (and certainly not S. obliqua). Nevertheless, I picked up one Enaphalodes atomarius and a few Lepturges confluens, along with some telamonine treehoppers and other miscellaneous beetles—all at my light setup.

*Enaphalodes atomarius* (robust oak borer) at UV/MV light in mesic lowland deciduous forest.

We also saw Elytrimitatrix undata and several other miscellaneous beetles on the trunk of a large standing Quercus sp., and E. atomarius and another E. undata at Art’s lights, all of which I let him collect. He was also happy to see the many Lucanus capreolus and Neocicada hieroglyphica that came to both our lights. By 10:30 pm few additional insects were coming to the lights, so we broke them down and heads back to Dexter.

*Elytrimitatrix undata* (family Disteniidae) nocturnally on trunk of large standing *Quercus* sp. in mesic lowland deciduous forest.

*Neocicada hieroglyphica* (hieroglyphic cicada) at UV/MV light in mesic lowland deciduous forest.

*Callosamia angulifera* (tuliptree silkmoth) at UV/MV light in mesic lowland deciduous forest.

*Phobetron pithecium* (hag moth) at UV/MV light in mesic lowland deciduous forest.

*Dolomedes albineus* (whitebanded fishing spider) nocturnally on trunk of large standing *Quercus* sp. in mesic lowland deciduous forest.

Long Bald Glade Natural Area

It took us all morning to drive across southern Missouri to reach this near the easternmost limits of the White River Hills, a fantastic region in the extreme southwest of Missouri featuring dry oak/juniper woodland surrounding extensive dolomite glades atop rounded knobs. It is my favorite region of the state for collecting insects, and I wanted Art and Bob to see the area before they continue on to western Texas. I also have jug traps and a Lindgren funnel trap placed here, so coming here would give me a chance to service them before checking the rest during the next two days on the way back to St. Louis.

By the time we arrived, temperatures were already soaring, and I was disappointed to see that conditions were very dry. Nevertheless, you never know how collecting will be until you try. I started out by checking the Lindgren funnel trap, which I had placed in actively-restored dry post oak woodland and was pleased to see a variety of beetles, including a series of Neoclytus scutellatus. In addition to re-baiting with ethanol-only, I added a pheromone lure (Fuscumol Lure MR, #P655-MR, Chemtica International) to the trap to increase the attractiveness of the trap to cerambycids.

Bob Anderson watches as I service a Lindgren funnel trap.

The ethanol/red wine trap had a nice variety of beetles that caught the attention of Art and Bob and included Plinthocoelium suaveolens, Stenelytrana emarginata, Eburia quadrigeminata, undetermined elaphidiines, Euphoria fulgida, E. sepulchralis, Cnephus mutilatus, miscellaneous beetles, and a cicada. The ethanol-only trap, however, was much less productive, yielding no cerambycids and just one E. sepulchralis, a few C. mutilatus, and some miscellaneous beetles. This continues the trend noticed four weeks ago during the first round of trap collections, when it appeared that the ethanol/red wine traps yielded higher numbers and diversity of not only beetles but also bycatch of other insects (primarily moths, flies, and wasps), suggesting that red wine possesses additional components attractive to beetles that more than make up for the reduction in ethanol content resulting from mixing the two.

The condition of the glade vegetation was extremely dry, and as I walked between the traps I didn’t see a single plant in bloom. I encountered Bob on the way back to the car and mentioned this to him, and I suggested to both Art and Bob that instead of spending time here we should look at locations further west that may have gotten more rain. They agreed, so we cut our visit short and headed further west.

Mincy Conservation Area

As we traveled west, we passed two locations where I had placed traps, but the entire area still looked exceedingly dry so we didn’t stop. By the time we reached Branson, however, conditions looked much better, and I suggested to Art and Bob that we visit Mincy Conservation Area just south of town since we were now in an area that looked like it had received some rain. Mincy is another of my favorite localities in this area due to the presence of high-quality dolomite glades, and in fact it is one of the localities where I have placed jug traps. Beetle numbers and diversity were much higher in the ethanol/red wine trap, which had Plinthocoelium suaveolens, Eburia quadrigeminata, elaphidiines, Neoclytus scutellatus, Strangalia luteicornis, Acmaeodera texana, Cotinis nitida, Euphoria fulgida, E. sepulchralis, elaterids, Cnephus mutilatus, mordellids, and a cicada, while the ethanol-only trap yielded most of the same but in lower numbers. While servicing the traps, I noticed an Acmaeodera on the flower of Liatris hirsuta (hairy blazingstar). I at first assumed it was A. pulchella, a common summertime species here, but looking more closely at it I realized it was A. texana, a very uncommon species in Missouri that I have not seen for many years. I looked at other Liatris flowers but didn’t see any, so I swept the surrounding herbaceous vegetation of this xeric dolomite prairie and found one more (plus a few chrysomelids). We had originally planned to go further west to Roaring River State Park for an evening of blacklighting. Hiwever, seeing that the vegetation looked good here and that the area had obviously gotten some rain, I suggested that we stay here instead of taking a chance on moving to an area where we were not sure what conditions were like. This also would allow us to spend more time collecting—we could go into Branson for dinner and return here quickly rather than driving another hour to Roaring River. Art and Bob agreed this was a good idea, so we headed into town and enjoyed Mexican cuisine at Los Poblanos (I had crispy tacos and, in a true rarity, resisted the siren call of the beans, rice, chips and salsa that would have totally derailed my 3-week stretch of healthy eating).

*Acmaeodera texana* on flower of *Liatris hirsuta* (hairy blazingstar) in xeric dolomite prairie remnant.

We returned with still about an hour before it would start getting dark, so I decided to continue sweeping the glade vegetation to look for more Acmaeodera texana. I paid particular attention to any flowers (primarily Liatris hirsuta and Rudbeckia missouriensis), since those were the plants most likely to have the beetles on them. Most sweeps, while not yielding A. texana, did produce hispine leaf beetles in the genera Anisostena and Microrhopala—certainly interesting enough to collect and motivate me to continue sweeping. After going through one particular area and looking at the sweep contents on the net, I saw the unmistakable shape of an Agrilus. This was not, however, just any Agrilus, but rather A. impexus—one of North America’s rarest Buprestidae! I recognized it because some years ago I received two specimens from another person who collected them sweeping prairie vegetation at Ha Ha Tonka State Park in west-central Missouri. I identified them as this species but noted they were much larger than specimens collected commonly in the southwestern U.S. I sent the specimens to Henry Hespenheide, who not only confirmed their identity but also determined they were not conspecific with a more common but as yet undescribed southwestern species going under the same name. In reality, true A. impexus is very rare, known from only a handful of specimens—most many decades old—collected in the tallgrass as prairie region of the central U.S., and the common but unnamed southwestern species was described as A. paraimpexus. I have swept tallgrass prairies abundantly ever since but failed to find the species—until now. I alerted Art and Bob to the find and worked up to the brink of darkness sweeping the area to look for more. I never did, but Bob, on his last sweep of vegetation before closing darkness, found another (right in the same area where I had collected mine)!

*Acanthepeira stellata* (starbellied orbweaver) swept from herbaceous vegetation in xeric dolomite prairie remnant.

As exciting as this find was, darkness prevented continuing to look for it, and I had to take advantage of what little light remained to setup my lights. I felt a few sprinkles as I did this but didn’t think much about it, assuming it would pass, and fired up the generator. The sprinkles continued, however, and gradually increased to the point where I worried about the mercury-vapor bulb. Art had also set up his lights but waited on turning on the mercury-vapor light, and together we hoped against hope that it would blow over and we would be able to proceed with blacklighting. It was all in vain though, as temps continued to drop and light sprinkles turned to steady drizzle. With darkness well developed and absolutely no insects flying around the ultraviolet lights (which we had left on, it was clear that it would be pointless to continue. With that, we took our lights down and said our goodbyes, as their plans were to head towards Texas in the morning while I went to Roaring River to begin checking the rest of my jug traps as I worked my way back to St. Louis. It seemed an inappropriately inauspicious end to an otherwise successful stop and fun trip with two exceptional coleopterists. I’m already looking forward to the next chance I get to spend time in the field with each of them!

*Asclepias viridiflora* (green milkweed, green comet milkweed, green-flowered milkweed) in xeric dolomite prairie remnant.

Roaring River State Park—Chute Ridge Glade

First stop of the day to service jug traps, and the area has apparently gotten more rain as the glade vegetation looked reasonably lush. I was hoping to see more Glycobius speciosus here after getting a single individual in the ethanol/red wine trap last time, but that was not the case. The trap was, however, still full of beetles, including numerous Plinthocoelium suaveolens and a variety of other longhorns such as Eburia quadrigeminata, Elytrimitatrix undatus, and elaphidiines, scarabs like Cotinis nitida, Euphoria fulgida, and E. sepulchralis, and other beetles such ad elaterids, one Chrysobothris chlorocephala?, one Chariessa pilosa, mordellids, and Cnestus mutilatus. The ethanol-only trap, as before, had fewer individuals and lower diversity. Between checking the traps, I swept the herbaceous glade vegetation and didn’t get much, but after checking the second trap I swept along the roadside and got five more Agrilus impexus, effectively doubling the known series of this species! I was very happy to have collected more of this very rare species after the two that Bob and I collected yesterday at Mincy Conservation Area.

*Asclepias verticillata* (whirled milkweed) in xeric dolomite prairie remnant.

Hercules Glades Wilderness

The jug traps here didn’t produce much last time, and I wasn’t expecting much this time either. The ethanol/red wine trap had Plinthocoelium suaveolens, Eburia quadrigeminata, a few elaphidiines, one Cotinis nitida, several Euphoria fulgida, a couple of elaterids, and a clerid, while the ethanol-only trap had one cicada, one elaterid, and one miscellaneous beetle. I also collected Cicindela sexguttata and Cicindelidia rufiventris on the rocky-clay path through dry oak-juniper woodland; however, sweeping the herbaceous glade vegetation produced nothing. The area has been quite dry, but I believe the low trap numbers are also due to the lack of vegetational diversity here due to the lack of any management via prescribed burns.

*Cicindelidia rufiventris* (eastern red-bellied tiger beetle) on rocky-clay path through dry oak-juniper woodland.

Blackjack Knob

There is lots of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) at this Mark Twain National Forest site along Hwy 160 in Taney Co., and last time I checked the jug traps here there was already Plinthocoelium suaveolens in them. As a result, I expected to see lots of them this time, and such was the case. The ethanol/red wine trap had nearly three dozen P. suaveolens along with Stenelytrana emarginata, Eburia quadrigeminata, a few elaphidiines, Cotinis nitida, Euphoria fulgida, E. sepulchralis, and elaterids m. The ethanol-only trap had far fewer P. suaveolens (only 2) but similar numbers and diversity of other beetles. The area looks quite dry, but I swept the herbaceous glade vegetation anyway in hopes that I would find more Agrilus impexus. I did not, but I did collect about a dozen Taphrocerus “howardi” (the quotation marks are a story for another day), which was surprising to me given how crispy brown the vegetation looked.

Bald Hill Glade Natural Area

This was my best locality last time in terms of trap numbers (at least the ethanol/red wine trap, not so much the ethanol-only trap). This is also one of two localities where I have a Lindgren funnel trap, which had a nice diversity of cerambycids (Neoclytus scutellatus, Eburia quadrigeminata, Aegomorphus modestus, Xylotrechus colonus, an elaphidiine, and an undet. cerambycid), scarabs (Cotinis nitida, Anomala sp.), elaterids, (scolytines (C. mutilatus), and other miscellaneous beetles. The area looked quite dry—both in the glade proper and in the surrounding dry upland deciduous forest, but trap numbers (again, only in the former) were incredible. In fact, there were so many beetles in the ethanol/red wine trap that I skipped sorting them in the field and brought the whole unsorted catch back to the car to sort out later. Part of this decision was due to the dark line of clouds I noticed to the north and that seemed to be moving closer. I hustled to the ethanol-only trap and quickly sorted its much sparser contents (only three Plinthocoelium suaveolens and a few E. quadrigeminata, E. fulgida, and elaterids), all the time keeping an eye on the approaching front. As I started the half-mile hike back, the winds really started picking up and the temps began to drop, and it became clear it would be a race to reach the car before the skies opened up. There isn’t much that phases me when I’m out in the field, but bushwhacking a half-mile stretch of abandoned, overgrown 2-track under dark, ominous clouds and with increasingly gusty winds had me feeling a bit nervous. I almost made it to the car before the rain started but did get wet in the final stretch. Still, I was able to get out of the area and back onto asphalt before the real deluge started. All traps were re-baited with the same bait, and a pheromone lure (Fuscumol Lure MR, #P655-MR, Chemtica International) was added to the Lindgren funnel. Sweeping herbaceous glade vegetation leading to the ethanol-red wine trap produced only a single Exema sp.

That evening in the hotel room, I sorted the contents of the ethanol/red wine trap and recovered a nice diversity of cerambycids (Plinthocoelium suaveolens, Stenelytrana emarginata, Enaphalodes atomarius, Eburia quadrigeminata, Neoclytus scutellatus, Lepturges confluens, and elaphidiines), one Chrysobothris sp., numerous cetoniine scarabs (Cotinis nitida, Euphoria fulgida, E. herbacea, E. sepulchralis), elaterids, and Cnestus mutilatus, a mordellid, and two miscellaneous beetles.

Sorted contents of an ethanol-red wine-baited “jug trap.”

*Euphoria fulgida* (emerald euphoria) in ethanol/red wine-baited jug trap in xeric dolomite prairie remnant. The pink morph (right) and pink/green morph (center) were the only ones out of many normal green morphs (left) trapped.

Peck Ranch Conservation Area

I wasn’t optimistic about the jug traps here, since it was rather unremarkable dry-mesic upland deciduous forest—a last minute replacement locality for a dolomite glade that I could not access due to a closed gate. The area got a good rain last night and looked lush anyway, and as it turned out there were huge numbers of beetles in the ethanol/red wine trap. These included one Plinthocoelium suaveolens—unexpected, since I didn’t think there was any gum bumelia in the area, a nice series of Stenelytrana emarginata, lots of Eburia quadrigeminata, Cotinis nitida, and Euphoria fulgida, single specimens of Neoclytus scutellatus, Strangalia luteicornis, and Batyle suturalis, Euphoria sepulchralis, Trigonopeltastes delta, and Chrysobothris sp., and a handful of elaterids, Cnestus mutilatus, and other miscellaneous beetles. As at most previous spots, the ethanol-only trap had fewer numbers and lower diversity of beetles, although this did include one Lepturges sp. not caught yet in ethanol/red wine. Given the success with sweeping at previous spots (Agrilus impexus as two locations and Taphrocerus “howardi” at the last one), I decided sweep the herbaceous roadside vegetation in this dry mesic upland deciduous forest and got singletons of Taphrocerus nicolayi, Acmaeodera pulchella, and Exema sp.—the Taphrocerus definitely making the effort worthwhile.

*Helenium amarum* (bitterweed) along roadside in dry mesic upland deciduous forest.

Stegall Mountain Natural Area

I was not a fan of this spot when I set the traps in mid-May given the fact that the spot and a large surrounding area had been recently burned. Despite that, I did get Purpuricenus in one of the traps last time, so I was more optimistic about it this time. As with the previous spot the area looked lush and got good rain yesterday, and as with the previous spot there were huge numbers of beetles in the ethanol/red wine trap, the most exciting of which were Stenelytrana emarginata, Purpuricenus humeralis, and Knulliana “spinifera” (I think this may actually be an undescribed species). Other longhorns in the trap included lots of Eburia quadrigeminata, Neoclytus scutellatus (may include a few N. mucronatus), and elaterids and small numbers of Batyle suturalis, Enaphalodes atomarius, Lepturges sp., Chrysobothris/Actenodes, Euphoria fulgida, E. sepulchralis, Cnestus mutilatus and other miscellaneous beetles. I was especially happy to see Purpuricenus once again—the first of this trip. Again, the ethanol-only trap had fewer numbers and lower diversity of beetles, but this did include a single specimen of Phaenops aeneola—only the second known Missouri specimen (I collected the first many years ago at this very location)! Sweeping herbaceous vegetation in the xeric rhyolite prairie around Trap A and dry oak/pine woodland around Trap B produced nothing, but doing so along the roadside in the oak/pibe woodland produced Microrhopala vittata and Exema sp.

*Liatris hirsuta* (hairy blazingstar) in post-burn understory regrowth of dry post oak woodland.

Russell Mountain, Jakk’s Glade

This area also looked lush and got more good rains last night. The ethanol/red wine trap was down last time (not vandalized, I just failed to tie the knot on the carabiner securely), so I was anxious to see what it might produce. Like the previous spots on this side of the state, there were huge numbers of beetles in it, including Stenelytrana emarginata, Purpuricenus humeralis, Eburia quadrigeminata, Knulliana “spinifera”, Neoclytus scutellatus (may include a few N. mucronatus), Enaphalodes atomarius, Strangalia luteicornis, undetermined elaphidiines, Chrysobothris sp., Cotinis nitida, Euphoria fulgida, E. sepulchralis, and undetermined elaterids (including many very tiny ones that I didn’t collect). The large series of Purpuricenus was unexpected and quite nice and means I’ve now collected species in this genus in all three of the igneous glades where I placed traps (but none in any of the dolomite glades—the opposite of what I expected given the number of individuals of this genus I’ve bait-trapped over the years at dolomite glades in Jefferson Co.). I was also surprised and happy to see the Knulliana, which I think is actually an undescribed species—they looked very similar coming out of the trap as the much more abundant Eburia, so I’ll have to check the collected specimens (both from here and other locations) more closely to see if there are other specimens that I’ve counted as Eburia. As expected, the ethanol-only trap again had far fewer numbers and lower diversity of the same species plus a single Lepturges sp. (same as the previous location). Both traps were re-baited with the same bait, though I started to doubt the value of continuing the bait comparison when ethanol/red wine already seemed far superior to ethanol-only. In the end, I decided to continue the continue the comparisons to allow for the possibility of other species later in the season that might show a different preference (and to allow publication of the study data even if this is not the case). Disappointingly, sweeping herbaceous vegetation in the xeric igneous prairie around both traps produced nothing.

*Trimerotropis saxatilis* (lichen grasshopper) on lichen-covered rhyolite exposures in xeric igneous prairie.

Hughes Mountain Natural Area

Again, like the previous spots today, the area looks lush and got more rain last night, but the numbers of beetles in the ethanol-red wine trap was not quite as overwhelming as in other locations. Nevertheless, there still a lot and two very good species : Sphenostethus taslei and Purpuricenus paraxillaris! I’ve only seen the former once before in a bait trap at Victoria Glades, and I’m always happy to see more individuals of the latter (the first new species I ever discovered!). Other beetles in the trap were Eburia quadrigeminata, an undetermined elaphidiine, Strangalia luteicornis, Typocerus velutinus, Xylotrechus colonus, Cotinis nitida, Euphoria fulgida, and various elaterids (including many tiny ones that I didn’t collect). In what is becoming a familiar refrain, the ethanol-only trap again had lower numbers and diversity, with Cnestus mutilatus being the only species not also caught in the ethanol/red wine-baited trap. Sweeping herbaceous vegetation, both in xeric igneous prairie around Trap A and dry post oak woodland around Trap B, produced nothing. This was the last location I was able to visit this day because of the unexpectedly large amount of time it took to sort the large numbers of beetles in many of the traps, so I saved the last two locations for the next day.

St. Joe State Park

Like other areas on this side of the state, the vegetation was lush and got even more rain two nights ago. I’d been very anxious to see this spot, as there is lots of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia) in the small xeric dolomite glades remnants and extensive surrounding areas of restored dry post oak woodland, which promise to yield Plinthocoelium suaveolens. Unfortunately, the ethanol/red wine trap was completely missing—not fallen or pulled down by raccoons, but more likely stolen by humans (I probably should have placed this trap further away from the nearby paved bicycle trail). This is first case of trap theft I’ve experienced in a long time. If they had to steal one of the traps, I wish it would have been the ethanol-only trap rather than the ethanol/red wine trap—the former haven’t produced nearly as well as the latter, thus the loss of data would have been less. The ethanol-only trap had only a few beetles representing E. quadrigeminata, Batyle suturalis, Dichelonyx sp., Elateridae, and Cnestus mutilatus. I did not replace the ethanol/red wine trap, but instead re-baited the ethanol-only trap with ethanol/red wine. This means I will need to drop this location from the bait comparison analysis, but I wanted to give myself the best chance for trapping Plinthocoelium, and ethanol/red wine is clearly the better bait for accomplishing this. Sweeping herbaceous vegetation in the xeric dolomite prairie near Trap A and dry post oak woodland around Trap B produced nothing, but I did see an impressive Mydas tibialis (golden legged mydas fly) visiting flowers of Eryngium yuccifolium (rattlesnake master) in the dry post oak woodland.

*Mydas tibialis* (golden legged mydas fly) visiting flowers of *Eryngium yuccifolium* (rattlesnake master) in dry post oak woodland

Salt Lick Point Land & Water Preserve

This is the only locality in Illinois that I placed traps—specifically because last fall I saw good numbers of Sideroxylon lanuginosum (gum bumelia), host for Plinthocoelium suaveolens (bumelia borer), and one in particular that showed signs of active infestation. Plinthocoelium has not been recorded from Illinois, so a voucher specimen will be important for publishing the record. The area apparently had gotten decent rains to this point, with vegetation in the woodlands looking lush and that in more exposed situations showing a tinge of wilt. Anticipation turned to disappointment when I looked inside the ethanol/red wine trap (placed right next to the infested bumelia tree) and saw lots of Eburia quadrigeminata and elaphidiines but only one Neoclytus acuminatus and no Plinthocoelium or other cerambycids. The infested teee was again churning out frass at the base of the trunk, so the infestation remains active—I will consider bringing screen with me next time so I can place a skirt around the base of the tree and check periodically for the adult once it emerges. In addition to the cerambycids noted above, the ethanol/red wine had Cotinis nitida, Enoclerus sp., Elateridae, Cnestus mutilatus, and other miscellaneous beetles. The ethanol-only trap had lower numbers of beetles, with Neoclytus scutellatus and Lepturges sp. being the only longhorns not represented in the ethanol/red wine trap. Interestingly, the trap also contained a few Buprestidae, which have been scarce in traps to this point (Actenodes sp.—prob. A. acornis or A. simi, Anthaxia sp.—prob. A. cyanella or A. dichroa, and Agrilus sp. Both traps were re-baited with ethanol-red wine to increase the likelihood of picking up P. suaveolens during the remainder of this season, and I will accordingly drop this locality from the bait comparison analysis (along with St. Joe State Park due to the ethanol-red wine trap being stolen) as well, thus limiting the analysis to the remaining 10 locations in Missouri.

Freshly-ejected frass at the base of a small living *Sideroxylon lanuginosum* (gum bumelia) tree indicates active larval infestation by *Plinthocoelium suaveolens* (bumelia borer)—a species not yet formally recorded from Illinois.

Sweeping herbaceous vegetation in the dry hilltop prairie near the traps produced nothing, but I did find a dead Lucanus capreolus (reddish brown stag beetle) dead on the trail though the dry-mesic upland deciduous forest leading up the them.

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