A Splendid Alternative to Blurry Bees

What's wrong with my camera?

I never had much truck with tennis players that blamed their racket for a bad shot, but some days I end up cursing my point-and-shoot with a similar lack of logic. Ever had a fun hour of snapping busy bees and ended up with pictures like that above by an anonymous 'photographer'? Well, if so, then Splendor Awaits has some excellent advice on Making a bee line ...

Impressionist or Incompetent, you decide

Of course, some unexpected pictures aren't all that bad. Perhaps I have a latent artistic gene (or I badly need a visit to my optometrist)?

Adventures in Spider Misidentification: Long jaws & horizontal webs

Neither jaws nor web to help, just Gestalt

The image above has appeared before at the Home Bug Garden, but never in a starring role (and once with the name misspelled). I like to think of this as a species of Tetragnatha - a Long-jawed Orb Weaver - and since neither the critical morphological character (the long 'jaws') nor a useful behaviour character (webs horizontal to the ground) are visible, it seems a perfect introduction to another Adventure in Spider Misidentification. Might as well jump in at the deep end: I'm guessing this is Tetragnatha laboriosa Hentz, 1850, the Silver Long-jawed Orb Weaver.

Horizontal web, often near or above water

I'm not being entirely arbitrary in my identification. Species of Tetragnatha are elongate and I have seen long 'jaws' on close inspection of other specimens. Also, the webs are definitely horizontal and often around the pond - sometimes strung from sedges over the water. Tetragnatha laboriosa occurs in Canada and the images at BugGuide look more or less the same. Isn't that enough?

Whatever this spider may be, there is one less aphid in the HBG

Well, no. A composite of characters from a variety of individuals is no way to come up with a reliable identification.  Best is a specimen, microscope, and key. Second best a really good set of pictures showing all the characters needed. I don't have any of those and I'm relying on something I learned long ago, in another land: the Gestalt of a Tetragnatha. That and an 'educated' guess on what species this might be. But BugGuide doesn't have pictures of all the species of Tetragnatha that occur in Canada, more than half of what they do have are unidentified images, and ominously one of these sets is labelled Alberta and Saskatchewan.

Tetragnatha maybe, species unknown

Well there's nothing wrong in being wrong, just in refusing to admit it. So, I'm pretty sure this spider belongs to Tetragnathidae and probably to Tetragnatha, but I think I'm going to have to collect a few and do some hard work at the microscope if I want to get any further.

Friday Fly: A simple solitary Syritta pipiens

Hoverfly ponders the portent of new potatoes 

Give the Home Bug Gardener a sunny afternoon and a point-and-shoot camera, and the time flies. Fifty or sixty snaps later, the enthusiasm has waned, but optimism is peaking. Then comes the downer of the download. Still, attention to the advice of Alex Wild at Myrmecos and Compound Eye combined with persistence and luck saves a few images from the trash Well, perhaps more should be trashed, but I found the picture above a pleasing composition, if not a good illustration of an interesting little (~9 mm) hoverfly.

Syritta pipiens captured at cinquefoil by DSLR

To actually see the hoverfly in all its glory, we must default to HBG's better two-thirds and her wonderful, if aging, Nikon D70 and flash. And what we see is one of Linnaeus' species from 1758 - then known as Musca pipiens, but now Syritta pipiens (L., 1758). The parentheses indicate that the species has moved to a new genus from the one Linnaeus put it in (now reserved for flies like the House Fly) and the the 'L.' indicates that Linnaeus is famous enough to get along on a single letter. What 'Syritta" and 'pipiens' (the spellchecker insists the latter should be 'pippins' - a kind of apple or musical, take your pick) is more difficult to determine.

Neither pipping nor chirping, Syritta pipiens is a mystery

The genus is pretty much Old World (our species is a colonist), out of Africa, and described a long time ago by Le Peletier & Serville in 1828. I don't think an enquiring email will help. The most recent revision of the genus is silent on the subject (Lyneborg & Barkemeyer 2005). Google and Donald Borror's book on scientific word roots both fail when 'Syritta' is the challenge. Perhaps it comes from the rather free-wheeling substitution of y for i in 'sir-' - Greek for a kind of wasp (and the fly is a bit of a wasp mimic)? So, Syritta may mean 'little wasp', but the meaning of pipiens should need no explanation: making a pipping or chirping noise. When used for frogs such as Lithobates (formerly Rana) pipiens - the Northern Leopard Frog - the meaning is relatively clear, but for a hoverfly (or mosquito like Culex pipiens)?

When potatoes flower, in theory, a hungry gardener could harvest some small, but tasty new potatoes

I think this post must end in an etymological funk. If I were trying to earn my living as an etymologist (or a photographer), I suppose this would be a week when I hadn't earned my pay. Fortunately, I have other skills that Society seems to value and I have been able to nurse my potato crop along to the flowering stage. I think that tonight, one Norland will be sacrificed to test the hypothesis the flowering indicates a meal in waiting. 


References:
Leif Lyneborg & Werner Barkemeyer. 2005. The Genus Syritta: A World Revision of the Genus Syritta Le Peletier & Serville, 1828 (Diptera, Syrphidae). Apollo Books.

Deluges & Devil's Darning Needles

Bee-dazzled, not; be-puddled instead

"Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud, Turn forth her silver lining on the night?" Perhaps John Milton (1634) had a better relationship with clouds than I, but for the last few days the clouds over the Home Bug Garden have been turning forth only rain and mud. Not the best of bugging weather, but it does make it easier to approach some of the larger insects, such as this black & blue beauty.

Back end of a Devil's Darning Needle

The largest insects to grace the Home Bug Garden are usually not natives, but transients. In particular, large dragonflies in the genus Aeshna: the Mosaic Darners. As large as small birds (about 7 cm long with a 9 cm wingspread), and every bit as agile when warm, the darners clackety swoops and hairpin turns never fail to impress, especially in the confines of a small garden.

Rather demonic looking, especially if you are a mosquito

Well, maybe having a large insect zipping circles around you isn't everyone's cup of tea, especially given the stories one hears about scolds, screeching children, and the profane having their lips sown shut by the Devil's Darning Needles. If only. Alas, the rude and over-excited have nothing to fear from darners.

Variable Darner, most likely, Aeschna interrupta

But one just-so story does have some basis in fact. Well-intentioned biologists often make preposterous claims about their favourite organism's abilities to protect us from pests. But unlike bats and spiders, darners really are bad-news for mosquitoes. 

Spiny legs scoop insects out of the air and into the maw of doom

During last year's horror mosquito summer, HBG and his wife had one magical half hour by the lake when about 3 dozen darners swooped in to attack. Back and forth almost faster than the eye could follow, the hovering cloud of mosquitoes disappeared as the darners scooped them out of the air and gobbled them up. Alas, they then moved on. Darners are superb fliers and able to stray far from their natal lakes and ponds.

Even an Oil Sands Beetle may prefer a cloud's illusion

Well, enough of clouds for the moment, and please let the Weather Office be right in its predictions for the next few days (even if it is by chance). I'm at the point where cloud illusions is what I would prefer to recall.

Thursday Blue Butterfly

Puddling Silvery Blue

It's always nice when an insect lives up to its name and the small blue butterflies now common around fields with Wild Vetch and Creamy Pea Vine are called Silvery Blues Glaucopsyche lygdamus (Doubleday, 1841). The males are more silvery and, perhaps, more likely to be seen, since they patrol the areas around the plants that their caterpillars would like to eat.

Silvery Blue exposed

The reason that butterflies, and especially male butterflies, may be found sipping mud rather than flowers (a behaviour called: puddling) is a bit obscure, but seems to be somewhat similar to taking vitamin pills in humans. Essential nutrients and salts not overabundant in the larval food, mostly plants, may be present in wet soil or less savory (to us) wet organic substrates. Males have a hard life flying back and forth, chasing away other males, and chasing females, so a puddle of mud may be a pleasant and invigorating break.

Silvery Blues are grey and spotted underneath

The reason for the often striking differences between the upper and lower wing surfaces of many butterflies is a bit obscure too, but one reason is most likely obscurity. It is easier to blend into a background when not boldly coloured, especially if the colour can suddenly disappear with the fold of the wings. Flashing the upper colours may also be useful to startle enemies, tell other males to get lost, and advertise one's beauty to the opposite sex.

Nectering is good for the vetch, but leaving behind eggs, maybe not so good

Energy for all the fluttering activity comes mostly from nectar and the butterflies may pay the plants back for their sugary rewards by transferring pollen. However, this Wild Vetch might much rather be pollinated by one of the bumble bees or carpenter bees that also were visiting, because the larvae of the Silvery Blue feed on assorted wild legumes such as this vetch. As the caterpillars feed they secrete a sugary substance that is very attractive to ants. The ants become addicted to their tasty reward and vigorously defend the larvae against other insects, including parasitoids. That seems a pretty exceptional life history, but if you look closely enough at any insect and you are likely to find equally unexpected and fascinating stories.

Adventures in Spider Misidentification: Sac Spiders

Sac spiders don't mind the dew

Ever had one of those nights when you had too much fun and awoke the next morning damp with dew? Well, looks like it can happen to Sac Spiders too. At least we think these are Sac Spiders, male to the left, female to the right, in the family Clubionidae. With only two genera in our area, we have a fifty-fifty chance of being right in calling these damply amorous two Clubiona, Leaf-curling Sac Spiders, but that requires the assumption we have the right family.

Sac Spider or Ground Spider?

We used to think this wandering female might be a Clubiona too, but now wonder if it isn't a member of the highly diverse Ground Spider family Gnaphosidae?

A curled leaf?

Well, when in doubt, stick to some definitive character if you can find one - and Leaf-curling Spiders should curl leaves, right?

And what lies in wait?

What else but a Leaf-curling Spider Clubiona sp.!

Well, Clubiona, no doubt, but the species still remains uncertain. It didn't feel right collecting mom before all the kiddies had hatched, at least not with any purpose better than idle curiosity. So, someday a pit fall may give us a definitive answer, but for the moment we are happy with Clubiona.

A young Clubiona? Maybe or may be not.

Bee-learned, not Bee-clowned: White-tailed Bumble Bee vs Globeflower

Bombus moderatus thinking about food

What does one do when a week of lectures need to be revised, a paper finished, hundreds of identifications proposed, dinner cooked, and a host of other chores gathers on the horizon? Why watch bees learn, of course.

The examination begins

Without flowers, flowering plants would have no offspring, or what they had would be monotonously similar clones from generation to generation. Ergo, one might assume that those plants that require insects for pollination would not be shy about initiating the mating dance. But many flowers seem to be of two minds, proclaiming 'here I am, come get me' but providing no obvious means of ingress. Bottle Gentians are one well known example of such coy flowers, and the European Globeflower seems to be another.

And she's in!

But things may not be all that they seem. In Finland and the European Alps, the Globeflower has been shown to have an obligate pollination relationship with Globeflower Flies (Chiastocheta spp., Anthomyiidae). Both sexes of the flies penetrate the flower, females lay eggs, and the resulting maggots eat the globeflower seeds. Globeflower must feed many of its offspring to maggots to ensure that some survive. That's all well and good (if creepy) in Europe, but how about in the Home Bug Garden where horticultural varieties of globeflower abound, but the flies seem to have missed the boat? One of the great advantages of bumble bees (Bombus spp.) as pollinators is that they can learn to pollinate even the most indifferent of flowers from beans to buzz pollinated peppers to bottled gentians to horticultural globeflowers.