It's a bug-eat-bug world out there

Shortly after returning from a recent expedition to seek out the fantastic Amorpha Borer Beetle in Scioto County (click the LINK if you missed my report of the successful mission), I was talking to my mom, who asked, "So, when did you get so into bugs? I thought you were into birds. What happened to the birds?" A perfectly legitimate line of questioning for a girl who started out interested in "just birds and flowers, thank you very much." In answer to my mom, and to the rest of you, if you care to know: a number of things have contributed to my burgeoning interest in insects. Having macro capabilities on my camera has probably been the most direct influence. My macro methods are a bit crude, but they do the job for me. Once you start photographing flowers at a macro level, you see things you've never noticed before, and it's only a matter of time before you start appreciating insects from a whole new perspective. Having friends who are into insects helps, too.

I should also mention that studying birds and botany has been a gateway to so many other aspects of the natural world for me. At the upcoming Midwest Birding Symposium, I look forward to hearing my friend Jim McCormac's presentation, "Birders Going Beyond Birds," which will address this very topic!

So, let's take a look at how I view insects as a birder. From a birding perspective, I think about insects as being food for birds: worms for robins, caterpillars for cuckoos, vireos, and warblers, cicadas for Mississippi kites, and those are just a few of many examples I could give. Part of the reason so many birds migrate is because once bugs die off for the year in the northern climes, their food source has dried up, so they better go somewhere else where the eatin's good if they want to survive.

Up until recently, I haven't really thought about bugs from a much broader perspective. So it has been a slow realization to me over the last 6 months or so that, while birds are serious insect predators, perhaps the bigger threat to insects are... other insects. Whether it's falling into the waiting jaws of a praying mantis, getting caught in a spider web, or perhaps the more gruesome fate of having some other insect larva eat you from the inside out (that's what parasitism is all about folks), it's tough to make it as an insect! The following snap-shots were taken during the beetle expedition in Scioto and Adams Counties. Obviously, we saw lots more than just the Amorpha Borer Beetle.


This is a very tiny (think size of a fingernail tiny) robber fly, commonly known as a gnat-ogre. They stalk their prey by hanging out on the tip of a blade of grass or the very edge of a leaf. This gnat-ogre looks to have just gotten started on a meal, and didn't seem to mind having some cameras shoved in its face.

Next up we have a grasshopper-hunting wasp, which is to say a species of wasp that specializes in hunting grasshoppers. The grasshopper blends in pretty well with its surroundings, but the camouflage apparently was no match for the keen eye of the wasp.

Since the grasshopper blends in so well, I thought it might be helpful to isolate the two actors in this scene: wasp is circled in pink/purple, grasshopper is circled in green.

Here you can see that the grasshopper is almost twice as large as the wasp, but she carried it with relative ease, at least to our eyes. We watched her haul this grasshopper several yards toward her burrow in the dirt.

She repeatedly stopped on top of the grass in an effort to locate her burrow, which she eventually found. We watched her excavate the burrow in preparation for the grasshopper (which she presumably would bury inside, where her young would eventually hatch and have a feast waiting for them). After observing that she had trouble finding her burrow, we also noticed she had difficulty relocating her prey after she had excavated the burrow. We finally surmised that our presence may have been the thing that was throwing her tracking off. We had originally hypothesized that she was using some kind of scent queues to help her find burrow and prey, but perhaps she was using visual cues instead, and our movements kept throwing off her bearings (i.e. her landmarks kept changing). At this point we backed off and left her to her job in peace. (Our apologies to you, Mrs. Wasp.)

Here, a praying mantis looks on innocently after it has just caught some species of ambush bug. We watched the ambush bug walk right into the mantis's well-camouflaged trap.

A face that only a mother could love. I've never seen mantis mandibles up close until now.

Chomp! Once again, a very cooperative subject, busy with its meal and obviously not feeling threatened by all the big creatures looming toward it with cameras.
I have some other buggy stuff to share, but we'll take a break and deal with birds for the foreseeable future. Stay tuned for reports from the Midwest Birding Symposium!

Figuring it out

I love field guides. I started off by borrowing my husband's Peterson's Guide that was given to him by his dad. Then a friend bought me my first flower field guide. I was off to the races after that. I have lots of field guides, and yet I don't have nearly enough. I have at least one field guide for each of the following subjects: butterflies, trees, mammals, wildflowers, birds, owls, reptiles and amphibians, insects, singing insects, tracks and scat, spiders, frogs and toads. I'm sure there's a few I forgot.

In instances where I have multiple field guides on one topic (birds, or wildflowers, for instance), each one serves its own purpose. Some of them are laid out so differently from each other, or contain such different information, that they complement each other nicely.

As much as I love my field guides, I will admit that they can be intimidating, especially when they cover a subject matter with which I am relatively unfamiliar (like anything that's outside of the realm of birds and wildflowers). This has been the case for me this year when trying to identify various spiders and insects. It reminds me of how I was when I first started birding: I would flip through virtually every page to find a bland brown bird that I had gotten a glimpse of for 2.5 seconds, only to find that every brown bird in the field guide looked virtually the same to my "new" birding eyes.

I figure it's frustrating for everyone at some time or another to use field guides, so I thought I would give you a quick run-through of how I narrowed the beetles in my previous post down to blister beetles (and more specifically, oil beetles).

First, I started off with a top-notch field guide to insects. If you spend any amount of time trying to figure out the identity of any kind of insect, BUY THIS BOOK:

One thing that I love about this book is what they call the "Pictorial Table of Contents." It not only lists the major groups of insects covered in the book, but it also gives a small photographic sampling of representatives of said group. Look closely at the shape and size of what is pictured, and you should quickly be on your way to the right portion of the book.

I had a good hunch going in that I was looking at some kind of beetle, and after looking at these quick visual representations of all the groups presented, I flipped with confidence to the beetle section, only to be somewhat daunted by 45 pages of photographs of many, MANY different types of beetles.

Looking at photos and paying attention to the description of the different families narrowed things down even further. For example, I knew that it WASN'T a type of lady beetle, nor was it an aquatic beetle, nor a stag or rhinoceros beetle. (Remember, knowing what something isn't can get you a long way toward what it actually is.) There was a good-sized section devoted to ground beetles, which I thought was a possibility, but none of the body shapes or sizes matched up to what I was seeing. As I got into the last quarter of the beetle section, I came upon the blister beetles. I finally had a visual match. There was mention of foliage feeding. Check. Then the specifics were spelled out for oil beetles, of which there are 21 species across North America: flightless ground-dwelling adults with short wing covers and bloated abdomens. A perfect match to what I was looking at. Oh, and there was mention of that funny kink in the antennae of the males. Bingo! Now, I ventured to guess the specific species as Meloe impressus, based on this guide and also photos shown on bugguide.net, but the jury is still out on the definitive ID of this blister beetle.

My trusty Kaufman guide also lead me to ID this fantastic metallic-looking beetle as a Dogbane beetle, which was found on - you guessed it - a dogbane plant.

So folks, I'd like your feedback. Was this post helpful and/or informative? Would you like to see more posts like this? I do write this blog for me, but I also like to know if what I'm putting out there is striking a chord with anyone else. Please let me know in the comments! Thanks.

One thing leads to another

The other evening as I was putting the dog to bed, I came across a cicada laying belly up on the ground. It's white abdomen was easy to see, otherwise I never would have known it was there. It was obviously injured, as it made no attempt to flutter or put up a fight when I poked at it lightly with a stick to see if it was even alive. I picked it up and laid it on the deck railing, thinking I would take pictures of it the next morning if it had not managed to fly away by that time.


As luck would have it, the cicada was still there the next morning, where it had somehow managed to hang on through a mild rain storm. Unfortunately, it was not in good shape, and only it's front two legs seemed to show much movement.

I believe this to be a Swamp Cicada, Tibicen tibicen. This is an example of a perfect treat for the young Mississippi Kite I saw last weekend. (Did you miss that post? If so, click HERE to get more info about Ohio's only current breeding family of Mississippi Kites!)

The Swamp Cicada, along with a myriad of other cicadas, gets lumped into the category of annual cicada, which is a bit of a misnomer. The "annual" designation refers to the fact that there are adults out and about each year; their entire life cycle, however, lasts several years, most of which is spent underground. Alternately, there are the periodical cicadas, such as the 13-year or 17-year cicadas. These cicadas spend MANY years underground to emerge as adults synchronously (i.e. all in the same year) on a 13- or 17-year cycle. (The 17-year cycles are mostly in midwest and northern states, whereas the 13-year cycles are mostly in the southern states). For more information and brood maps showing when the next hatching of periodical cicadas is scheduled to hit your area, click HERE.

When I was a kid, I remember coming across the exoskeleton of a recently emerged adult of some cicada species, attached to a tree, and I was quite terrified. Who knew that so many years later I would nonchalantly hold one in my hand? I can attest to the grabbing power of the "feet" of this cicada. Here you can see how it was latched onto my finger by just these two little feet. While this poor swampie was in no condition to be "singing," I remember the song of the Swamp Cicada as THE cicada song of the hot summer days of my childhood. You can listen to it HERE.
After the photo shoot was over I was looking for someplace to put the cicada other than our deck railing when my attention was shifted to another odd-looking insect altogether. Actually, a LOT of odd-looking insects. There was quite a swarm of these blue-black beetles in my flower bed, and they were making short work of the leaves of my hellebore!


After determining that these are a type of blister beetle, I read that most of them feed on flower nectar or flowers themselves, but some species, like this one, feed on foliage. Hopefully the plant will recover, but honestly, it doesn't look good for the hellebore.

Okay, they might look odd, but they are also kind of handsome. I believe this is Meloe impressus. This turns out to be one insect species that is sexually dimorphic, meaning that there is a visible way for my human eyes to discern male from female. (di- meaning "two" and morph meaning "form" or "shape") Those funny looking "c"-shaped kinks in the middle of the antennae indicate that this is a male.

Here's where things get weird (at least to my non-beetle brain!), and fascinating. The males use that kink in their antennae as part of the courtship process. From what I was able to personally observe over a limited amount of time with these beetles, the male would mount the female from behind and use that portion of his antennae to stroke the antennae of the female. To make matters more interesting, I observed several mated pairs where male and female are going about their conjoined business, but then I also observed just as many TRIOS where a male and female were already joined, but a second male was on the female's back, doing the antennae-to-antennae tango! What on earth is THAT all about?! In the photo just above, the male on her back is the extraneous male (you can barely make out her actual mate, who's out of focus directly beyond her in this shot). Bet you never guessed you were going to get a discourse on beetle sex when you started reading this post, did you?!

In addition to the antennae giving away gender, the relative size is also an indication of sex. In general, the females are larger than the males, both in length and girth. In these side-by-side photos, the male (at left) and female (at right) are roughly the same length, but you will notice the much more swollen abdomen of the female, who is very likely gravid (carrying eggs).
In my next post, I'll talk briefly about how I came to identify this as a blister beetle in the first place. Stay tuned!

Reminiscing about robbers

Robber flies, that is.

Every year brings something new to my proverbial radar. New birds to learn, both by sight and by ear. New butterflies to learn.  New flowers to learn. New dragons and damsels to learn. And new flies. I was vaguely aware of robber flies before this summer, mainly because I had read about them on a the very educational blog of a fellow Ohioan.  Still, reading is one thing. It doesn't replace the feeling of experiencing these creatures for yourself. This summer I had the luck to be able to examine a couple of them at close range.

Quoting from the Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America: "[Robber flies] are to other insects what falcons are to other birds: swift predators on the wing."  They are usually distinguished by their "bearded" face, and also by the fact that the top of their heads is concave between the eyes.



A Robber Fly, most likely belonging to the genus Promachus, or the Giant Robber Flies. Promachus is translated from the Greek as "who leads in battle."
This robber caught my eye because it was darting about. When I first saw it I thought maybe it was a dragonfly based on its size, but I knew it wasn't flying right to be a dragonfly. Closer inspection ensued when it landed on the leg of our patio table, where it remained for some time. At this time I was able to make the positive ID. It was tame for a flying insect, and stayed in place despite the fact that my camera lens came within inches of it. It was, undoubtedly, scanning the air around it for a potential meal, and was either too preoccupied to care or simply didn't feel threatened by me or my camera. Interestingly, a small bug (I can't remember what kind at this point) landed and walked right past it, and the robber didn't budge. I'm not sure if it considered the other bug an inferior meal, of if it just didn't see it all.





In these images you can get a better look at the characteristic "beard."
I sat with this fly for probably close to 10 minutes, but never got to observe it hunting. I went in the house for a bit, and when I came back it was gone. Maybe next year, if I'm lucky, I'll get to watch the hunting process.

I came across another robber a few weeks later, but this one was dead. I found it in Dave's truck, and it was MUCH smaller than the one I found on the patio table. Suffice it to say they come in a variety of sizes. The one pictured above was easily as long as my index finger. This other robber was about the size of the first joint of my thumb (from tip to knuckle).



Itty bitty Robber Fly


Compared to my finger tips, you can see how small this robber is
With winter less than a month away, the only insects I have to keep me occupied currently are the poor half-dead flies buzzing around the windows in our house, and the occasional spider in a corner. I won't be seeing anything like this again until next summer, I reckon. Yet another reason for me to prefer the warm months over the cold ones.



Until we meet again, robber...

Mystery insect - friend or foe?

Alright, astute blog readers, I've got a mystery, and I need your help in solving it.  It involves a bug that I have been trying to identify for 2 years, going on 3 years now.  For the first few years I was convinced it was some kind of flying, biting ant, but someone suggested to me that it might actually be a wasp.  Here's a specimen of our mystery insect:

Now that I have my handy-dandy Kaufman Field Guide to Insects of North America, I am ready to make a more educated guess as to just who this might be.  The closest thing I can match it to according to the pictures and size key given in the book is a wasp, species Podium luctuosum (no common name that I can find).  According to the field guide, these are wasps of the woods, and they "scour the ground and logs for prey," their prey being wood roaches.

If my guess is correct, and this is indeed a wasp that should be scouring the ground and logs for roaches, what is it doing flying around in my house (and in my car, even!) and landing in my kitchen and on my furniture? Why must it intercept my arm on its path from the sink to the stove? Why must it dare me to sit down on the couch and rest my back on the spot where it is frantically darting about on the cushion?


The business end
Aside from not having a positive ID for this critter, I have another dilemma.  I am not fond of this wasp, and am leery every time I see one flying around.  I have been stung by them on numerous occasions (although not at all so far this year).  The pain at the time of the sting is sharp and pronounced, and feels like a harsh pinch more than anything (just up until this year I was convinced it was a bite I was receiving, not a sting).  The pain subsides rather quickly, but it leaves a tiny welt, and the whole experience is one that is not easily forgotten.  Leave it to Nature to put me on the investigative trail of something because it has caused me injury.  Is it her sly way of luring me closer, encouraging me to get a better look so that I may, in some way, become more accepting of this creature?

Another view. Look at the colors on that armor-like plating! Such beauty commands respect, don't you think?
When I managed to trap this specimen, I felt bad because I injured it in the process of capturing it, and its death was probably slow and painful.  After it had... "expired"... I took the requisite photos.  The act of holding the wasp in my hand, and of studying the photos up close, certainly pushed me to have a greater respect for this creature, despite the differences we have had in the past.

My relationship with insects has changed over the last few years as I have started to REALLY look at them.  For example, spiders (for the most part, unless they are big and hairy and resemble a Wolf spider) have free reign in our house.  I even found myself in a position one day to be holding a live captive of the mystery wasp, basically grasping it by the antennae, and watching the stinger protrude and retract.  Does this mean I won't kill the next one I see?  No.  However, I am finding that, more and more, my curiosity is starting to take over when normally I would feel fear of some animal that would usually be viewed as intimidating, such as a wasp or a snake (no, I'm not handling snakes... yet!).


Even the antennae are a delicate work of art

Rest in peace, unknown one. May my quest for getting to know you help me to make my peace with you.
If anyone out there can confirm or correct my ID of this wasp, it would be much appreciated.

Bow chick-a-wow-wow

During one of our hikes in the Daniel Boone National Forest in Kentucky, we came across a cool insect: the walking stick (or walkingstick). Make that 2 walking sticks.


I'm kind of bummed that I didn't have my "macro" filters with me that day, or I could have gotten even closer shots of these creatures.

This is the type of insect that both creeps me out and fascinates me at the same time. I mean, look at the coloring on these two - so very... stick-like! Hey, what's going on in the back there, in the out-of-focus part of the picture?

This probably gives you a better idea.

Get a room, you two!
I'm not even going to attempt to identify what species of Walking Stick this is, but I can at least say with confidence that the female is the larger of the two. I'm intrigued by the difference in coloring between the two of them, and it almost makes me wonder if we're looking at two different species here. Of course, that is sheer speculation!

We left these two alone after examining them for a few minutes, not wanting to disturb them too much. Turns out, though, that mating between two walking sticks may last for hours, days, or even weeks, depending on the species. Yikes!

the Wilds birding weekend wrap-up

This will be my last post (I think) about my weekend of Birding by Ear at the Wilds. I cannot say enough good things about this place. If you live in Ohio, or if you are ever passing through, please consider visiting the Wilds. You certainly will not regret it. The staff there are great and are passionate about the land and animals there. I guarantee you will learn a lot if you go.

A Carolina Wren built her nest in this little bucket that was inside the dining/meeting yurt at the education camp.

While 90% of the weekend was spent concentrating on birds, there were plenty of other things to see while we were there. All kinds of wildflowers abound (including invasive species like Autumn Olive, Multiflora Rose and Phragmites). I got photos of a handful of them.

Foxglove Beardtongue (Penstemon digitalis)

Umm... I'm afraid I don't know this one, but it certainly looks to be a member of the Pea family.

Birdsfoot Trefoil (Lotus corniculata)

Yellow Wood Sorrel (Oxalis stricta)

Yum... the wood sorrel leaves taste like Granny Smith apples!

Our trip leaders for the weekend, Jim McCormac and Al Parker, were absolute fountains of knowledge, not just about birds, but also in regards to just about any other natural thing we saw around us. Someone spotted this snapping turtle alongside the road, and the bus had to be stopped to it could be annoyed... um, investigated. That's Al holding the happy snapper.

During the last hour or so of our weekend at the Wilds, the birding kind of went downhill and it turned into a natural history free-for-all where we started looking at anything that moved. It was at this point that I realized how "good" Jim had been at containing himself during the rest of the weekend. You see, even though Jim's really good with the bird thing, he's really a botanist... who also happens to like dragonflies and butterflies and moths and frogs and... you get the picture. He's self-proclaimed ADD when he's outside, and jumps from one thing to the next rapidly. I'm not complaining, mind you... it's just hard to keep up sometimes!

unidentified captured frog

Okay, this is where things start getting really fuzzy for me. Birds and flowers I'm pretty good with, butterflies and other insects... not so much. I have some ID guides, but I'm only just getting into these things, so don't quote me on any of these IDs.

a skipper of some sort, maybe Silver-Spotted Skipper

Great Spangled Fritillary on clover (I'm pretty sure about this one)

? Perhaps a female Common Whitetail or female Twelve-Spotted Skimmer ? (why did I not take notes?!)

This is a Bluet of some sort, of that much I am sure. I remember the term Bluet being tossed about and I was confused, because I didn't see any Bluet flowers around. Then I realized it must be the damselfly on the leaf. This might be a Familiar Bluet.

I didn't have the lens I usually use for close-up work on my camera, so I had to make do with my longer zoom lens. This made getting the kind of close-ups I would prefer not really possible. But you get the idea.

And finally, I leave you with yours truly, pictured with "my" Grasshopper Sparrow.

Photo courtesy Jim McCormac