An Assortment of Beetles

For as long as I can remember, I've loved arthropods. Arthropods come in so many different shapes, sizes, and colors, and even one group can exhibit an incredible amount of variation. One has to look no further than the beetles to see this in action. Beetles are insects that belong to the order Coleoptera, and there are a ton of beetle species out there. An inconceivable amount really. Just how many beetle species do we know about? There are currently 400,000 described species of beetles in the world, which accounts for around 25% of all the described species on Earth. For comparison, there are only about 5,400 described species of mammals in the world, and only about 10,000 described species of birds in the world. And that 400,000 number only accounts for the described species of beetles, which means the individual species some scientist has officially described as a species separate from the others. That number isn't including all the species we currently don't know about. Some scientists have estimated that there might be a total of 1,000,000 to 2,000,000 beetle species in the world, meaning there are hundreds of thousands of species out there waiting to be discovered and described!

Beetles exhibit a tremendous variety in both appearance and lifestyle. Some are all black, while others can resemble a rainbow. Some are carnivorous, while others are herbivorous, while even some others are omnivorous. Some are solitary, while others are relatively social. Some beetles provide parental care, and some navigate their landscape using the stars. Much of the allure of beetles lies in the sheer diversity regarding every part of their biology.

Despite the variety in form and function of beetles, I've never really spent too much time looking at their world. I have, however, collected many pictures of beetles over the past 5 years, and so I've finally decided to dive in and write up a post on a few of those species. This post is organized by family, so let's jump in to one of the more speciose families.

Carabidae

The family Carabidae—whose members are commonly called the ground beetles—is incredibly diverse, with over 40,000 described species. Many of the Carabids are darkly colored, but a good number are colorful and metallic. One such example is the species pictured above, Chlaenius aestivus. Because there are so many species of beetles in the world, many of them do not have common names, instead only having a scientific name. Chlaenius aestivus—as well as many of the other species included in this post—does not have a species-specific common name, but the collective common name for members of the genus Chlaenius is "metallic ground beetle." The name is rather fitting, isn't it?

My favorite group within the family Carabidae—and the beetles as a whole—are the tiger beetles. Although there are over 2,600 species of tiger beetles described in the world, the US and Canada is home to only about 117 species. The most recognizable species in Ohio is without a doubt the vibrantly-green Six-Spotted Tiger Beetle, but I want to talk about two other species. First up is the Eastern Red-Bellied Tiger Beetle, Cicindela rufiventris. I came across this individual while visiting Steve Willson's Blue Jay Barrens in Adams County, Ohio. As a side note, Steve operates a fantastic blog on the nature and management of the cedar barrens on his property. You can read his blog at Blue Jay Barrens! As with many other tiger beetles, the Eastern Red-Bellied Tiger Beetle prefers sunny openings in forests which can occur along ridgetops, near rock outcrops, and in recently disturbed areas.

Another tiger beetle which calls Ohio home is the One-Spotted Tiger Beetle, Cylindera unipunctata. I found this individual after it came to the lights during a mothing night at Clear Creek Metro Park in southeast-central Ohio. When it comes to the world of arthropods, tiger beetles are fearsome predators. They are lightning-fast, and the fastest species—Cicindela hudsoni—can reach speeds up to 5.5 miles per hour. Proportionally, if humans could run that fast, we would be running at speeds around 225 miles per hour! In addition to their speed and agility, they also have large, formidable jaws that can easily clamp onto a prey item, such as other beetles, small flies, and a host of other arthropods.

Pyrochroidae

This orange and black beetle is Neopyrochroa flabellata, one of the flame-colored beetles of the family Pyrochroidae. Contrary to what one might assume, the reproductive habits of insects can be much more complex than "find a live individual of the opposite sex and mate." And N. flabellata has a rather fascinating love life. Many animals love to eat eggs; eggs are little bundles of protein and nutrients which don't fight back. Normally, at least. When female N. flabellata's lay their eggs, they cover the eggs in a protective compound called cantharidin. Cantharidin is a blistering compound that causes burns when applied to the skin of an animal, and can poison an animal in large enough doses. As such, covering your eggs in cantharidin would ensure that no one else messes with them. The problem is, N. flabellata can't make their own cantharidin.

So how does the female get it for her eggs? Well that's where the males come in! The job of the male is to find and consume enough cantharidin, and then approach the female. Upon approaching a female, a mating ritual will ensue. The two beetles will face each other, head to head. The male will begin to secrete part of his cantharidin reserve from a special gland found on his head, and the female will use her antennae to sense whether the male does indeed have any cantharidin, and if so, does he have enough. If he lacks it all together, he will almost surely be rejected. If he has some, but not a lot, he runs the risk of being rejected as well. If the female thinks he male has enough, she will then signal that she is willing to mate. During the mating process, the male transfers his cantharidin to the female, who will then coat her eggs with it.

Where does the male get the cantharidin, you might be wondering? That's a good question, and there's some uncertainty when it comes to the answer. Cantharidin is a rare substance in nature, and only two groups of beetles—the blister beetles of Meloidae and the false blister beetles of Oedemeridae—can synthesize it themselves. It is currently assumed that male N. flabellata individuals will seek out blister beetles and either kill and eat parts of their body to accumulate the cantharidin, or that they scavenge on dead blister beetles to get the cantharidin. There's a few issues with this premise, as Thomas Eisner et al. points out in their 1996 paper on the subject. First, it hasn't been recorded that N. flabellata feeds on adult insects, such as the blister beetle. Second, blister beetles and false blister beetles rarely occupy the same habitats that N. flabellata occupies. And lastly, it seems unlikely that there are enough blister beetles out there to satisfy the need of N. flabellata individuals. The question of the source of the canthardidin highlights the lack of often basic information we have on so many of our arthropod species.

Lucanidae

As I mentioned with the previous beetle, we are lacking a lot of the "basic" facts when it comes to most of the arthropods on Earth. Take, for example, the beetle above. This is a Ceruchus piceus. There isn't a lot that's known about Ceruchus piceus, especially when it comes to random interesting facts. It is worth pointing out that the individual pictured is a male, as can be told by its large mandibles. This species belongs to the family Lucanidae, which is commonly known as the stag beetles. As male deer have a part of their body enlarged to attract females and fend off other males, so too do male beetles of the family Lucanidae. Male deer have antlers, but male stag beetles have large mandibles. These mandibles are used to attract females, fight other males, and defend themselves from potential predators. 

Scarabaeidae

It wouldn't be a post about beetles without throwing in one of the scarab beetles. A few scarab beetles—which are simply beetles of the family Scarabaeidae—are well-known to humans. May Beetles (AKA June Bugs), Green Fig Beetles, and dung beetles are all different types of familiar scarab beetles. But my favorite scarab beetle is one of the lesser-known species. Meet the Grapevine Beetle, Pelidnota punctata. The Grapevine Beetle is a large and relatively common species across the eastern US, but one that not many are familiar with. That is unless you happen to be a moth-er, as Grapevine Beetles love to come to mercury vapor lights. As the name suggests, the adults of this species feed on the various species of wild and domesticated grapes found throughout the eastern US. Despite this, the Grapevine Beetle is not considered a significant pest species. 

Chrysomelidae

In my opinion, one of the most under-rated families of beetles is Chrysomelidae. Chrysomelids—more commonly known as the leaf beetles—are beetles that feed exclusively on plants. Generally speaking, they are relatively small, round, and oftentimes colorful. Take, for example, the Milkweed Leaf Beetle, Labidomera clivicollis. As the name implies, this species feeds on various milkweed species, especially Swamp Milkweed, Asclepias incarnata. Like the Monarch butterfly and other insects which feed on milkweed, the Milkweed Leaf Beetle sequesters the cardenolide toxins found within the plant for defense. And as with the Monarch, the Milkweed Leaf Beetle has a colorful and contrasting orange and black coloration to warn predators of its poisonous nature. 

Cerambycidae

Beetles in the family Cerambycidae are almost always attention grabbers. Species of this family are collectively called long-horned beetles—and often for obvious reasons. As the Eutrichillus biguttatus individual pictured highlights, the Cerambycids typically—although not always—have long antennae that are normally as long as their body. Sometimes, such as with E. biguttatus, the antennae are much longer than their bodies. 

Although some of the long-horned beetles are subdued in color for camouflage, others can be fantastically colored. Take the Elm Borer, Saperda tridentata, for example, with its flame-colored oranges contrasting with its deep black. Long-horned beetles often get a bad rap among us humans, as many of their feeding habits result in them being labelled pests. Generally speaking, the larvae of long-horned beetles feed on wood. Depending on the long-horned species in question, this wood can be dead wood or—as in the case of the Elm Borer—live wood. For the species whose larvae feed on live trees, an infestation can result in the direct or indirect death of the tree. Of course, this might upset some people when the tree in the yard dies, but all is part of the natural balance within a forest (except, as I should point out, when it comes to non-native invasive long-horn beetle species. Such invasive species can cause significant harm). The native Elm Borers, for instance, almost always choose weak, broken, or sickly elm trees to lay their eggs in. Healthy elm trees are apparently left alone. With such a lifestyle, Elm Borers are actually inadvertently culling sickly elm trees from the forest while leaving the healthy individuals to proliferate.

Silphidae

The most exciting beetle I've seen my entire life has been—without a doubt—the American Burying Beetle, Nicrophorus americanus. The American Burying Beetle is a federally endangered species which has all but disappeared from its range across the eastern and central US. I learned about it years ago, and never thought I would get to see one because of how rare it is. However, I was lucky enough to visit The Wilds this past summer and help with a reintroduction of over 200 captive raised individuals. Not only did I get to see American Burying Beetles, but I also got to hold some! I have an entire post up on the strange life cycle of the American Burying Beetle, some of the most current thoughts as to cause of the decline of the species, and the reintroduction efforts by The Wilds. You can find that post right here at this link!

Typically, I end my blog posts with the species I was most-excited to see, but not this one. Today, I will end with a species who has evolved a lifestyle unlike all of its cousins. Meet Nicrophorus pustulatus, another member of the burying beetle family. Like the previous American Burying Beetle, almost all burying beetles (genus Nicrophorus) follow the same general reproductive pattern: First, they find a carcass of some sort, then they bury that carcass within a chamber underground, then they modify the carcass into a meatball covered in anti-fungal anal secretions, and then they feed parts of that carcass to their young, which they laid in a chamber right above the carcass-ball. But not N. pustulatus. This species has evolved a rather remarkable alternative lifestyle. Nicrophorus pustulatus is a parasitoid of snake eggs. A parasitoid is a specific kind of parasite that actually ends up killing its host. Parasitoids are extremely common in the invertebrate world, but they all utilize other invertebrate as hosts. Nicrophorus pustulatus is the only invertebrate parasitoid currently known of in the world whose host is a vertebrate!

In the early 2000's, a team of scientists kept noticing that the Black Rat Snake nests they were finding regularly contained both adult and larval N. pustulatus individuals. Within these nests—which often contained many separate clutches of eggs as these snakes regularly nest communally—many of the eggs had been obvious consumed. When the team of scientists looked into this phenomenon, they realized that no one had ever documented N. pustulatus burying carcasses before in nature, and they began questioning whether there was something unusual going on. They soon found that if you raise N. pustulatus individuals in the lab, and give them a dead mouse, they will bury that mouse, but they seemingly didn't do so in nature. A few studies later (the original in 2000 and a confirmation in 2007), and it can safely be said that N. pustulatus is indeed a parasitoid of snake eggs, a wholly new and remarkable phenomenon in the natural world!

Last fall, I purchased a macro lens with the intent to take more detailed photos of various arthropods, and hopefully I will take many more photos of beetles. If I do, you'll surely see some more posts on this diverse group! Thanks for reading!

Caterpillar Extravaganza

This past weekend I attended the third annual "Caterwauling for Caterpillars" night. Despite the strange name, this event is a yearly gathering of insect-loving Ohio University students who have one goal in mind: find cool caterpillars. Although the overall diversity wasn't too great this year, we still saw some interesting "cats," and I wanted to highlight a few of them here.

First up is the Saddled Prominent (Heterocampa guttivitta). This wide-ranging species is quite variable in appearance, and it took me awhile to figure out just what species of prominent (Family Notodontidae) this individual was. The main identifying features are the saddle on the top of the 3rd and 4th abdominal segments (the two segments which have the first and second prolegs), the white line running down the body near the back (subdorsal line), and the brown and white band on the head. The Saddled Prominent is a generalist when it comes to host plant preference. Unlike some caterpillar species which feed on only one or a few species of plants, the caterpillar of the Saddled Prominent feeds on pretty much any woody plants, including American Beech, birches, buckeyes, dogwood, hickories, maples, oaks, sumacs, and many other trees and shrubs.

A relatively common species in southeast Ohio—yet one that I always enjoy seeing—is the Giant Leopard Moth (Hypercompe scribonia). Although you can't really tell from the photo, Giant Leopard Moth caterpillars are large. They're also extremely easy to identify; if you see a large black caterpillar covered in black bristles, with red rings where each abdominal segment meets, you've got yourself a Giant Leopard Moth. The caterpillars of this species feed only at night, spending most of the daylight hours hiding out on the forest floor. Although the black bristles (which are technically called "setae") look formidable, the Giant Leopard Moth does not actually sting. Instead, they will simply roll up into a ball if threatened and hope that they look scary enough for the threat to leave them alone. If you want to read about the adult Giant Leopard Moth, check out my previous post "Mothing at Clear Creek: The Showy."

A few minutes after seeing the Giant Leopard Moth caterpillar, another strikingly-similar caterpillar crossed our paths. This is the caterpillar of the Agreeable Tiger Moth (Spilosoma congrua). Like many other species of insects, the Agreeable Tiger Moth is able to sequester toxins found in the plants that they eat in order to become toxic themselves. In the case of this species, these caterpillars sequester iridoid glycosides. Although the levels of iridoid glycosides aren't very dangerous to most potential predators of the Agreeable Tiger Moth, they do make the caterpillar taste pretty nasty, which would hopefully deter any predators from eating this species. Caterpillars of the Agreeable Tiger Moth come in two color morphs: one with colored rings, and one with red dots down the side of the body. Although I couldn't find any information about the two morphs, it would be interesting to see if there are any differences between the two—whether they occur in different geographic locations, or if they have differences in the iridoid glycoside sequestration, or the likes. 

By far the most abundant type of caterpillar of the night were the geometers. Geometers—better known as "inch worms"—are moths belonging to the family Geometridae. The geometer family is huge, with over 1,400 species in North America (and several hundred in Ohio alone). Identifying geometer caterpillars can be incredibly difficult, especially since many of them are incredibly camouflaged and lack much in the way of obvious identifying characteristics. Although I couldn't identify the one pictured above to species, it was my favorite geometer of the night. This caterpillar is a perfect twig mimic. I would have never seen him had I not had a UV flashlight. UV flashlights are indispensable tools when searching for caterpillars. Most "caterpillaring" occurs under the cover of night, when caterpillars are most active. It just so happens that most caterpillar species fluoresce when exposed to ultraviolet (UV) light. If you walk around the forest with a hand-held UV flashlight—which you can easily find on Amazon—the caterpillars will quite literally light up, making it much easier to find cryptic species. 

One of the most peculiar species of the night was the Black-Waved Flannel Moth (Lagoa crispata). The caterpillar of the Black-Waved Flannel Moth is rather ridiculous looking in my opinion, appearing like a frizzy toupée. But don't let its appearance fool you—flannel moth caterpillars are not one to mess with. This caterpillar has two lines of defense. First, all those long hairs you see are urticating setae, which are essentially bristles which can break off into your skin causing irritation (like dozens and dozens of tiny splinters). But hidden within the urticating setae is the second line of defense: short, venomous spines. Being stung by the caterpillar of any flannel moth species is not a pleasant experience, but the Black-Waved Flannel Moth is one of the least painful of the bunch (the Southern Flannel Moth, Megalopyge opercularis, wins the pain contest).

I couldn't talk about the Black-Waved Flannel Moth without at least showing what an adult looks like. The adult Black-Waved Flannel Moth is one of the most fuzzy moths out there. Unlike the caterpillars, the adults are completely harmless. This individual was found in Ross County earlier in the summer.

The last three species I want to highlight are all slug caterpillars from the family Limacodidae. The "slugs" are almost always a favorite of anyone into Lepidopterans (moths and butterflies). Slug caterpillars are called such due to their rounded, slug-like appearance. They hug whatever surface they are clinging too, and move around in a manner more like a slug than a caterpillar. Some slugs—like this Jeweled Tailed Slug (Packardia geminata)—can be rather dull in appearance. Others can be stunningly beautiful.

Many slugs are tiny (quarter sized or less) and mostly green. However, many species are adorned with stinging hairs, such as this is Nason's Slug (Natada nasoni). The spines of the Nason's Slug are unique compared to many other slug caterpillars. These spines are actually retractable, and most of the time the caterpillar will only have the tips of the spines exposed. If the caterpillar feels threatened, it will extend its spines and hopefully scare the threat away. If not, the threat (whether it be a bird, human, or whatever) will receive a painful sting. This was a good species to find for the night, as the Nason's Slug is restricted to only the southern and southeastern portions of the state.

The highlight of the night—at least in my opinion—was this Saddleback caterpillar (Acharia stimulea). The Saddleback is one of the most well-known slug caterpillars, and it's easy to see why. Even someone who doesn't care about insects would be hard-pressed to ignore one of these cats. As you can tell from the photo above, the common name for this species is due to the circular "saddle" on its back. But if any feature is grabbing your attention, it's most surely all the protruding appendages covered in spines. These spines pack quite a punch. Each spine is rigid, incredibly sharp, and most importantly hollow. At the base of each spine is a venom gland. If a spine comes in contact with exposed skin, it breaks off into the skin and begins releasing venom. The Saddleback's venom is both vesicating and hemolytic, meaning that it causes your skin to blister while also breaking down your red blood cells and damaging your tissue. A sting from one of these caterpillars will cause immediate localized pain (fellow blogger Andrew Gibson likened it to "burning knives"), and in extreme cases can also cause nausea, migraines, and a host of other symptoms. The effects of the venom can last upwards of 5 hours. 

On the front end of the Saddleback are two large white spots. These are thought to mimicking eyes. Fake eyes are common in insects—especially in Lepidopterans—and these eye-spots serve to scare away potential predators by either startling the predators or conveying that the animal in question is dangerous.

Like always, this year's Caterwauling for Caterpillars event was fantastic. If you want to read about some of the caterpillars from the first Caterwauling for Caterpillars night, please check out my post entitled "Caterpillars, Caterpillars, and More Caterpillars." And if you are interested in seeing some caterpillars yourself, mid-September is the best time for that in Ohio! Get out and see what you can find!

Mothing at Clear Creek: The Showy

On the night of June 17th, I traveled to Clear Creek Metro Park in Fairfield County, Ohio, to participate in a moth night. I talked about some of the drab and subtle moths of the night in my previous post, but now I want to take a moment to highlight some of the showy species.

 

Weather plays an important part when it comes to mothing. As a general rule, moths like warm and dark nights. The darker and warmer the night, the more moths you will see. Luckily, the night was not only in the mid 70's, but was also pitch black. No Moon was out, and clouds covered the sky. The amount of moths flying and visiting the mothing sheets was incredible, as the photo above shows.

I'll begin with the Io Moth (Automeris io). The Io Moth is a stunning species in the Saturniidae family, the same family the contains other knockout species like the Luna Moth, Cecropia Moth, and the Imperial Moth. The Io Moth is a relatively common moth across the entirety of Ohio, and over a dozen visited the sheets during the course of the night. As you have probably noticed, the wings of the Io Moth have two large eye spots. These eye spots serve to ward off predators. The Io Moth typically sits with its wings closed. If a potential predators comes near, the Io Moth will open its wings and flash its eye spots. If everything goes according to plan, the surprised predator should back off, giving the Io Moth time to escape.

Moths have a diverse array of anti-predator defense mechanisms, and not all are based on appearances. Take the Painted Lichen Moth (Hypoprepia fucosa), for example. This species, along with many other related tiger moths (subfamily Arctiinae), has another line of defense. When the Painted Lichen Moth flies at night, they are at risk of being eaten by various bat species. The Painted Lichen Moth is semi-toxic though, and relatively unpalatable to bats. The problem is, bats won't be able to see the red-orange-black warning coloration of the moth at night. So how does the moth let bats know not to try to eat it? They click! When a bat is in the area making its own clicking noises for echolocation, the Painted Lichen Moth will hear the bat and begin clicking in defense. This lets the bat know that this moth isn't a good meal, and the bat will hopefully leave the moth alone.

This tiny moth is the Orange-Headed Epicallima (Epicallima argenticinctella). This species inhabits deciduous forests, where the caterpillars feed on elm trees. The Orange-Headed Epicallima is what is commonly known as a micro-moth. "Micro-moth" is general name given to tiny moths. There is no strict definition of a micro-moth, but most people seem to consider moths that are 1/2 inch long or smaller as a micro-moth. Identifying micro-moths is oftentimes a difficult process, but the Orange-Headed Epicallima is one of the more easily-identifiable species.

Another showy micro-moth of the night was the Labyrinth Moth (Phaecasiophora niveiguttana). The caterpillars of this species feed on the mid-story tree species Sassafras and Witch Hazel. This moth gave me quite the headache, and this frustration underscores a problem with arthropod field guides. I must have flipped through the Peterson Field Guide to Moths of Northeastern North America a good 5-7 times while trying to identify this moth, but I simply couldn't find it. I posted a photo of it on the Facebook group Mothing Ohio to see if someone could help. Within a few minutes a member ID'ed it for me, and I soon realized why I couldn't find it in the guide—it wasn't in there! When it comes to arthropods, there are tens of thousands of species. There are over 11,000 species of moths alone in North America! A field guide can not simply contain every single species with numbers like these, even if that guide only focuses on one group of arthropods in one section of the continent like the Peterson Guide does. Choices have to be made on what to include and what to exclude, and the authors of the Peterson Field Guide to Moths only included "1,500 of the most common or most eye-catching moths in" Northeastern North America. Luckily, the internet fills in these field guide gaps, and Facebook groups or sites like BugGuide will help you out!

When I was a young kid, this was the first moth that I learned the name of. This is the Giant Leopard Moth (Hypercompe scribonia). The Giant Leopard Moth, along with the Polyphemus Moth, were my two "spark moths." A spark animal is the colloquial term for a species that inspires a curiosity or admiration of a given group of animals in a person. The individual pictured above is actually a female Giant Leopard Moth, as can be told by the loss of wing scales on the ends of the wings. When Giant Leopard Moths mate, the male and female will stay attached for 24 or more hours. During this long-lasting session of mating, the male will position his wings over the female's. This results in the male accidentally rubbing off the female's wing scales, leading to an appearance like this.

Staying with black and white moths for a moment, here's The Neighbor (Haploa contigua). Moths have the best names, don't they? The Neighbor belongs to a group of tiger moths in the genus Haploa, which are often referred to as the haploa moths. haploa moths all have various black lines set against white wings, and identification involves carefully studying the patterns of those black lines. To see the diversity of wing patterns in the haploa moths, check out this BugGuide link.

This is the Beautiful Wood Nymph (Eudryas grata). The Beautiful Wood Nymph is just one of several moth species which are hypothesized to be mimicking bird droppings. Imagine you're a small predator making your way through the forest in search of a meal. If this moth was just sitting on a leaf out in the open, you would probably be quick to dismiss it as some unsavory bird feces. You would move on in search of some actual tasty food, and the Beautiful Wood Nymph would live another day.

This stunning moth is the Dark-Banded Geometer (Ecliptopera atricolorata). For many, this was moth highlight of the night. This is another relatively uncommon species that is missing from the Peterson Field Guide to Moths. Typically when I write a post like this, I try to find at least one neat fact to share for each species. The problem is, I can barely find any information on this species. I did, however, find a quote about this moth from the famous Lepidopterist and naturalist William Jacob Holland in his 1903 book entitled The Moth Book. Holland writes that the Dark-Banded Geometer is "One of the most beautiful of the geometrid moths found in the Atlantic States." There you have it: the Dark-Banded Geometer, always a show stopper.

I'll end with the very last moth of the night. This gigantic beauty is the Polyphemus Moth (Antheraea polyphemus). Due to Columbus Metro Park rules, the moth night had to officially end at midnight. The night, however, did not end there. After shutting down the mothing sheets, many of the moth-ers traveled down the road to a gas station that straddles the intersection of Clear Creek Road and US Route 33. Why travel to a gas station, you might ask? Well, there are bright lights, and these lights attract moths. We might not have been able to moth in Clear Creek Metro Park at that point, but we could still moth at a gas station! And yes, I realize how absolutely ridiculous this must sound to those of you not into moths. As I mentioned earlier in this post, the Polyphemus was one of my spark moths, and you can probably see why. This thing is huge. Just to give you an idea of size, my hand is about 8 inches long. This Polyphemus moth has about a 6 inch wingspan, making it one of the largest moth species in Ohio. It's hard not to stop and take a closer look at this moth, even for those who might hate insects.

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That wraps up my two-part series on some of the moths of Clear Creek Metro Park. Once again, the first part can be found at this link: Mothing at Clear Creek: The Subtle. Thanks for reading!

Mothing at Clear Creek: The Subtle

Last weekend I had the pleasure of attending a moth night at Clear Creek Metro Park. The attendees saw a lot of moths over the course of the night, and I wanted to highlight a few species in particular. I'll be doing so in two posts; this post will focus on some of the more drab and subtle moth species of the night, while the next post will focus on the more showy and colorful moth species of the night!

EDIT: Click on this link to see the second post covering the showy moths of the night.

Moth nights are fun. The activity of mothing—a hobby involving the pursuit of moth diversity—centers primarily around moth sheets, like the ones pictured above. Moth sheets in themselves are nothing special; they're just plain white bed sheets. The magic lies in the lighting. Although normal household lights will attract moths here and there, you really need to use one of two types of special lights to really attract the moths. UV lights and mercury vapor lights are the weapon of choice here, with mercury vapor lights being the best of the best. This moth night at Clear Creek consisted of 4 mothing sheets set up throughout one section of the park. Several dozens of various moth species visited each sheet over the night, so let's jump right into some of the more drab and subtle species of the night!

First up is the Common Lytrosis (Lytrosis unitaria). The Common Lytrosis is a rather large moth, coming in with around a 3 inch wingspan. I think this is a perfect species to start out with. If it were to fly by you, you might simply dismiss it as a big brown moth. But upon closer inspection, you would see all the minute and intricate details present in the wings. We humans tend to like the showy, eye-grabbing things in life, and we often skip over things that don't instantly grab our attention. But if you start taking a closer look at those "boring" things, you will soon find that they aren't so boring after all.

Mothing is like looking at abstract art. With abstract art, the appeal lies not within some straightforward meaning that the elements of the artwork create, but instead lies within the elements of the artwork themselves—the colors and the contrast, the changing patterns across the canvas, the lines that take you on a journey through the artwork. The appeal of mothing, at least in my opinion, is the same. It's just fun to look closely at each species and see how all the colors, patterns, and lines interact with each other, and how that changes from species to species. This moth is called the Barred Granite (Speranza subcessaria), and its dark patches set among a pale gray background is a great example of contrasting elements.

One of the most enjoyable parts of mothing lies in the process of identification. This is the Hemlock Angle (Macaria fissinotata). At first glance, it looks almost identical to the previous Barred Granite, but closer inspection reveals differences in patterning. When I go mothing, I take photos of everything I see. I then spend the next week or so trying to identify each species from the comfort of my home. I use the Peterson Field Guide to Moths of Northeastern North America for this part. Identifying moths can be super frustrating, but in a fun way. Identifying these drab moths involves a lot of flipping from page to page through the Peterson Guide. Over and over. Again and again. Eventually you find the species you're looking for (but not always). As the name of this species implies, the larvae feed on Eastern Hemlock and occasionally Basalm Fir. Clear Creek Metro Park has a big population of Eastern Hemlocks, so it's no surprise that the Hemlock Angle is there!

When I first saw this moth, I thought it was some species of emerald (subfamily Geometrinae), but it's actually the Pale Metanema (Metanema inatomaria) in the subfamily Ennomina. The caterpillar of the Pale Metanema uses various poplar species, and occasionally willows, as a host.

This is a Bog Lygropia (Lygropia rivulalis). When it comes to most moths, we really don't know much information about their natural history. With most species, we at least know what types of plants the caterpillars feed on. With the Bog Lygropia, we don't even know that. In fact, from what I can tell we don't even know what the caterpillar looks like! There's so much fundamental information we're missing when it comes to the dark side of Lepidoptera.

This is The Beggar (Eubaphe mendica), a rather common sight at mothing sheets. The common names of moths are strange. For decades, there were no common names. When people began "getting into" moths, those who made guides decided that they needed common names in addition to the scientific names. To solve this problem, they simply began making names up! Some common names were based off the scientific names. For example, the Bog Lygropia is called such because its scientific name is Lygropia rivulalis and it prefers wet and boggy areas. Other names are not as straightforward, and The Beggar is one such example. No one is exactly sure why it's call that, but the speculation is that whoever named it thought the dark patches on the wings looked like the holes in a stereotypical beggar's clothes.

Next up is the Isabella Tiger Moth, which you probably better know as the Woolly Bear (Pyrrharctia isabella). A single individual visited the mothing sheet that night, and it happened to be a very worn individual that had lost a lot of its patterning. Luckily, there isn't much else that looks like an adult Isabella Tiger Moth. If you've ever wondered what the Woolly Bear turns into after metamorphosis, now you know! Side note: If you want to learn about some more "fuzzy" caterpillars, check out my previous post "Caterpillars of the Fuzzy Variety."

I'll end this post with the Arched Hooktip (Drepana arcuata). The adults are your typical moth; the caterpillars, however, are unique. During the Arched Hooktip's caterpillar stage, the caterpillars like to be with other caterpillars of the same species. How do they find other caterpillars? They drum! One caterpillar will roll a leaf up, tighten it down with silk, and then crawl inside this new home. Once inside, the caterpillar will begin making vibrations by dragging parts of its anal segments against the leaf, drumming with its mouthparts, and performing a series of other actions. The resulting vibrations are a signal to any nearby Arched Hooktip caterpillars to come over and hang out in the new leaf shelter and eat together. This communicative behavior is super interesting, and very unique among the moths (at least from what we currently know). If you want to read more, here is a link to the original study: Invitation by vibration: recruitment to feeding shelters in social caterpillars

That's it for this post! I'll have the next post covering some of the showy moths up in a few days. Thanks for reading!

EDIT: Click on this link to see the second post covering the showy moths of the night.

American Burying Beetle

This past Friday I ventured up to The Wilds in Muskingum County, Ohio, with the wildlife biologist for the Wayne National Forest and another wildlife intern for the National Forest. The Wilds is a fantastic wildlife conservation center that is known for offering open air bus tours through pastures containing rhinos, giraffes, Sichuan Takins, and a whole host of other exotic and endangered species. Our trip wasn't for these large and well-known species, though. Our trip was for a beetle... 

Meet the American Burying Beetle (Nicrophorus americanus). This 1.5 inch long orange and black insect is a very special species. It once ranged all across the eastern United States, from the Great Plains to the Atlantic Coast. However, over the course of the 20th Century the American Burying Beetle all but disappeared from the world. Population after population began dying out, prompting the government to list this species as Federally Endangered in 1989. The reason for the decline and near-extinction of the American Burying Beetle has been a mystery for decades, as no one has been able to unequivocally pin down the exact cause. Regardless of the reason why, the American Burying Beetle was in dire trouble. Zoos and other conservation centers around the United States began collecting what little natural populations remained in the northern Great Plains and other scattered regions in order to create captive breeding populations.

This brings us to The Wilds, which began captive breeding its own population of American Burying Beetles in 2007. Every year the conservationists at The Wilds take a portion of their captive population and reintroduces those beetles back into the wild at a location on their property. I was able to participate in the 2017 "Planting of the Beetles" and document the process.

The American Burying Beetle has a rather interesting and unusual reproductive method. A pair will search for a fresh animal carcass—typically something between the size of a mouse and a pigeon. Upon finding a suitable carcass, the pair will begin to bury it to a typical depth of 4-10 inches. Once buried, the beetles will alter the shape of the carcass and add chemical secretions to it which will slow down the rate of decomposition. After this, the female will lay eggs in a separate chamber above the carcass. After the eggs hatch, both the male and female will use the carcass to feed the larvae. Once the larvae are ready to pupate, the parents will leave the nest.

The whole point of this reintroduction day is for us humans to do all the hard work for the beetles about to be reintroduced. About two dozen volunteers from various agencies and organizations ventured into the forest and began digging lots of holes—110 to be exact. Once the holes were dug, each was then "seeded" with a dead rat.

Dan Beetem, the Director of Animal Management for The Wilds, examines a pair of American Burying Beetles.

After each hole was dug and seeded with a rat, the fun part began. Two coolers were stocked with dozens and dozens of tiny plastic containers, each containing a male and female beetle, with a few containing some "single" females.

The volunteers would grab a container, pick an available hole, and then carefully add the pair of beetles into the hole. By completing the first half of the beetles' work, the conservationists aim to give this new population a leg up. The hope is that the beetle pair will realize that there is an appropriate food source that's already buried, and will then decide to mate with each other and give rise to the next generation.

I first learned about the American Burying Beetle several years ago, and I've wanted to see one since then. I honestly thought I would never get to see one, but then I found myself getting to hold one. Moments like these—interacting with such a special creature on such a personal level—are what captivate and inspire me. These are the moments I hoped to experience when I chose to venture down the wildlife biology path.

When it comes to Ohio, there are several other organizations that have either previously reintroduced, or are continuing to reintroduce, populations of American Burying Beetles across the state. Whether these efforts have been successful in establishing a self-sustaining population is yet to be seen, however. An American Burying Beetle only lives for a year. For a self-sustaining population to be created, enough of the reintroduced individuals have to mate and lay eggs. Enough of these eggs must hatch and enough of the larvae must be adequately cared for. Enough of these larvae must then successfully pupate and overwinter. Enough of these overwintering individuals must then emerge, find a mate, find a carcass, and successfully reproduce. There are many steps in which something can go wrong, and most times all traces of a given reintroduced population vanish by the next summer. Take for example the efforts by the Cincinnati Zoo. Between 2013 and 2016, the Cincinnati Zoo released a total 748 adults into a park. These 748 adults were estimated to have produced a total of 2349 larvae. Each year, zoo workers would attempt to find any new adults in the area which were from last year's efforts. They only ever found 2 adults. It's possible that many new adults survived and then simply dispersed to other areas and were consequently never captured. It's also possible that most of the reproductive efforts failed at some point.

Dan Beetem, the Director of Animal Management for The Wilds, looks on the American Burying Beetles' new homes with optimism.

You might be thinking that it seems like we're fighting a losing battle when it comes to reestablishing the American Burying Beetle. Maybe that's true; there have been more losses in the world of wildlife conservation than there have been successes. But when it comes down to it, the species is still extant. There is still a chance. Conservationists will continue their struggle to help this species survive. I hope to see a day where self-sustaining populations of the American Burying Beetle dot the landscape they once inhabited. It's too early to say whether this dream is realistic or not, but I will remain hopeful.

Some Magnificent Moths

Moths: the drab and boring cousins of butterflies? I think not! In fact, thousands and thousands of people around the world are beginning to fall in love with moths. Mothing—a new hobby in the same vein as birding and herping—is breaking into the mainstream. Well, mainstream as nature-centered hobbies go at least. Mothing is essentially the appreciation and seeking of moth diversity, especially with the use of "light traps." Why do people find moths interesting? Although I can't speak for everyone, I'm interested by the sheer diversity of species, colors, and patterns of moths. Just to give some perspective, there are about 130-140 species of butterflies in Ohio, with about 725 species of butterflies that are in the US and Canada. Now what about moths? Ohio alone has over 1,000 species of moths. If you combine all the species of moths in the US and Canada, that number jumps to over 10,000! This diversity is incredible!

I love moth faces.

Two weeks ago I was down in Shawnee State Forest for the Ohio Ornithological Society's Warblers and Wildflowers Weekend, where I was assisting as a guide. On Friday and Saturday night of the event, when darkness fell, fellow guide Jeremy Dominguez set up his custom-built moth light trap. Although moths can be easily enough encountered, light traps are an incredibly effective way to draw in scores of moths. Jeremy uses a strong mercury vapor light (the most effective at drawing in moths) to attract any nearby moths. He strings up a white sheet next to the light to allow the moths a place to rest, which also gives the moth-ers a place to easily view the moths. The moths in this post are a few of the more eye-catching species that came to this trap.

I'll start with the Azalea Sphinx (Darapsa choerilus). The sphinx moths are all attention-grabbers due to either their size, colors, or both. The Azalea Sphinx is a medium-sized sphinx moth—which is on the larger size compared to most moths—with a rich chestnut color and pinkish hues. Many times the common name of a moth will reflect its preferred host plant (which is the type of plant the caterpillar will feed on), and the Azalea Moth is a great example. The caterpillars of this species will feed on various azalea species (genus Rhododendron), but will also feed on Black Gum and various Viburnum species.

This inch-long black and white beauty is the Hebrew (Polygrammate hebraeicum). The name stems from the black markings on its wings, which resemble the characters of the Hebrew Alphabet. The host plant of the Hebrew is the Black Gum, a species of tree. When it comes to host plant specificity, moths can be broken into 2 general groups. There are moths who have two or more host plant species, and then there are moths who only utilize a single specific plant species as their host plant. With the Hebrew falling into the latter group, this moth can only be found wherever there are populations of Black Gum.

Next up is the Oak Beauty (Phaeoura quernaria). Due to the sheer diversity of moths in Ohio, identification can be difficult. Unique looking moths, like the previous two, can be relatively easy to identify. When you come across a more "stereotypical" moth, with a camouflaged appearance, identification becomes more difficult. You begin relying on the shapes of lines on the wing, presence or absence of any dots or otherwise characteristic features, colors, wing shape, etc. And then you get moths like the Oak Beauty, which are "variable." With variable moths, the exact colors, lines, patterning, etc. can vary from individual to individual, making identification even harder. The Oak Beauty can be ID'ed by its overall charcoal color and the presence of 2 wavy black lines across the wings with a varying amount of white associated with these black lines.

When you're dealing with such a diverse group of animals, you're going to run into a variety of body forms. A group of moths with a rather unique body form are the leaf blotch miner moths (what a name!). These micro-moths often prop themselves up using their forelegs, such as the individual pictured above. This specific species is the Maple Caloptilia (Caloptilia bimaculatella), which can be identified by the presence of two creamy-white triangles on either side of its wings..

Another group of moths with a unique body form are the plume moths. A moth can instantly be identified as a type of plume moth (family Pterophoridae) by its T-shaped body. At rest, a plume moth will roll up its modified wings, giving it this T-shape appearance. Plume moths are very difficult to identify down to species, with most cases requiring careful dissection. Suffice to say, I have no idea what species that the pictured plume moth is!

A group of moths I am always delighted to see are the emeralds. The emeralds are all mostly pale green moths with lines of various other colors. This individual is a White-Fringed Emerald (Nemoria mimosaria). The emeralds belong to the incredibly diverse and speciose family of moths called the geometers (Geometridae). You might better know the geometers as the inch-worms. In fact, this is why the family is named Geometridae. Geometridae is based off of the Latin word "geometra," which translates to "Earth measurer." As the caterpillars of the Geometridae moths inch-along, they could be said to be "measuring" the Earth.

My favorite moth of all time is this magnificent beauty, the Rosy Maple Moth (Dryocampa rubicunda). Moths don't get much better than this, in my opinion. Luckily, the Rosy Maple Moth is pretty common in Ohio. The Rosy Maple belongs to the Saturniidae family of moths, also known as the giant silkworm and royal moths. This family holds most of the large, stunning moths people are familiar with, such as the Luna Moth, Cecropia Moth, and Imperial Moth. But not all the Saturniids are large; the Rosy Maple Moth is only about two inches long and an inch wide—small by Saturniid standards. Like other Saturniid moths, the adult Rosy Maple Moth has no mouthparts. It does all of its feeding during its caterpillar phase. The sole purpose of an adult upon emergence from the pupal stage is to find a mate, reproduce, and then wait for death.

I'll end this post with the star of the weekend—well, at least when it comes to moths. As you might recognize, this is a Luna Moth (Actias luna). The Luna Moth, a large moth in the Saturniidae family, is always one of the highlights of any mothing event when they make an appearance. This individual flew in just before the sheet was closed down for the night. If you want to learn more about the Luna Moth, click on this link for a post that's all about Lunas!

Are you interested in moths? Do you live in the northeastern portion of the United States? If so, I highly recommend getting the Peterson Field Guide to Moths of Northeastern North America! This is a must have field guide for anyone trying to identify moths in Ohio and the surrounding states. Thanks for reading!