Science Video Friday - A Centipede's Song

It's time for a musical Science Video Friday, courtesy of a fan of house centipedes, Scutigera coleoptrata. I was very pleased after I found this video--not only is it about our many-legged friends, but it's very good and catchy. I sometimes find myself singing it from time to time. And some of the photos he features are pretty cute.

Science Video Friday (on Saturday!) - Curiosity ignored the cat, landed on Mars

NASA continues to be the most inspiring arm of government we have in the United States. At the beginning of the week, millions of us followed along on the web as the newest Mars Rover, Curiosity, landed on Mars to begin its study of chemistry and geology on the Martian surface. A full-fledged mobile science laboratory, it landed on Mars safely after the "7 minutes of terror" experienced by mission control in Pasadena, California.

The Internet erupted in joy when Curiosity transmitted back its first image of  Mars, seven minutes after landing. For a video of the descent, NASA has kindly provided one, embedded below.

And as usual, XKCD has succinctly summarized just what exactly NASA accomplished.

For more info on the landing:
Yahoo News
Washington Post

The Thrill of Discovery

Max Barclay, the collections manager in the Entomology department at the Natural History Museum in London just posted something on Twitter that I had to share. It's an account Alfred Russell Wallace wrote about the butterfly Ornithoptera croesus, when he found a male of the species in Indonesia. From his book, The Malay Archipelago, 1869:

"The beauty and brilliancy of this insect are indescribable, and none but a naturalist can understand the intense excitement I experienced when I at length captured it. On taking it out of my net and opening the glorious wings, my heart began to beat violently, the blood rushed to my head, and I felt much more like fainting than I have done when in apprehension of immediate death. I had a headache the rest of the day, so great was the excitement produced by what will appear to most people a very inadequate cause."

The butterfly is now known as Wallace's Golden Birdwing, and he wasn't kidding when he wrote that other naturalists would understand what he experienced. While my experiences in Ohio haven't resulted in as showy of an insect, I have been dazzled by half-foot long wasps (if you count the ovipositor), a beetle the color of a Crayola macaroni crayon, and a beautiful Luna moth that hadn't yet pumped up its wings. In the moment when I realize I've found such stunning insects, I know exactly what Wallace meant. And after that moment? The whole day is filled with thoughts about that Amorpha borer or Luna moth.

In case you're wondering why a butterfly would give Wallace such a start, Wikipedia provides a plate from Reise Fregatte Novara. Zoologischer by Rudolf Felder and Alois Friedrich Rogenhofer showing the male and female, top and bottom, respectively.

While others may faint at the sight of an insect due to fear, we entomologists are liable to faint out of excitement.

Cicada Killers, Human Friends

Wasps: one of the most feared groups of insects. They're also one of the most hated, namely because of the propensity of some species to sting. If you've found yourself at the business end of a wasp, you probably weren't too happy. If I had to venture a guess, I would say that this is how many people view wasps:

But perhaps wasps don't deserve such a bad reputation. Many species of wasps play important roles in the ecosystem, including parasitism of caterpillars and pollination of flowers. Some aren't aggressive towards humans, for example the Eastern Cicada Killer, Sphecius speciosus.

Intimidating at first, sure. But not a threat!

This wasp isn't interested in ruining our day. The male might be interested in us at first, but that's because he's curious: he patrols his territory looking for females. If something new moves in, he has to check it out to see if it's a female he can mate with. You know, kind of like a teenager. The males can't even sting, though they can jab you with a sharp spine. The females, however, are able to sting. But you'll have to punch it in the face while holding it to get it to sting you. No, these wasps are interested in game closer to their size...

Now we're talking!

If you haven't already figured it out by now, the Eastern Cicada Killer kills cicadas. Aptly named, no? The whole story is more intricate, however. First, the wasp needs to catch the cicada. She will fly around, searching for her prey, and then snatch it out of the air. Out comes her stinger, and boom: the cicada is paralyzed. Not killed, mind you--that would be too easy. She drags the cicada back to her sandy nest and deposits it in an earthen chamber, along with an egg. After that, she seals up the chamber and flies off to catch more cicadas. The female may have many egg chambers in her nest, all sealed and containing a cicada or two. 

Don't forget that throughout this process, the cicada is still alive, sealed in its tomb. What comes next? Death by grub. After the baby wasp hatches, it devours the warm, nutritious cicada and pupates. Overwintering comes next, and after it warms back up during the summer, the adult wasp emerges and continues the cycle anew. 

By killing cicadas, these wasps act as an ecological equalizer for trees. They remove cicadas from the environment, giving the trees a break from being nibbled on by the musical Hemipterans. On a related note, wouldn't it be fascinating to measure the population of the cicada killers after a periodical cicada emergence? Perhaps the influx of so many cicadas allows their own populations to explode, resulting in a whole bunch of cicada killers (and scared humans) the next summer. Of course, that's only if the cicada emergence coincides with when the cicada killers are active. 2016 is the next year for Brood V in Ohio, so keep your eyes open.

On a final note, in case you're wondering what the species name speciosus means, it's derived from the Latin for "showy" or "beautiful." Another apt description for this wasp.

Recap: Midwest Native Plants Conference 2012

This weekend was a complete rush for me. Finally, after an entire year of waiting, it was time to attend the 2012 Midwest Native Plants Conference. This conference brings together gardeners, naturalists, and scientists from all walks of life for three days to learn about the ecology of native plants and their effects on other wildlife, such as birds and insects. It's a magical time, full of interesting people and lots of knowledge jam packed into the Bergamo Center outside of Dayton, Ohio.

This year's speakers included: Cheryl Harner, who spoke about native plants as habitat; Ian Adams, who wowed us with beautiful pictures of dragonflies and damselflies; Marielle Anzelone, who taught us that there's a lot of botany to find in New York City, and the keynote speaker, David Wagner, the man who literally wrote the book on caterpillars. Not one session went by without multiple gasps of excitement from the crowd--these were top notch speakers. This isn't even mentioning the myriad of breakout sessions available, which covered topics from Pollinators by Jim McCormac to Conifers by David Brandenburg. The organizers behind this conference sure do know how to pick some engaging speakers.

Sitting in a room listening to some smart people speak is all well and good, but at some point, you've gotta get out into the field and search for the stuff the smart people are talking about. Thankfully, the conference featured multiple day trips and night hikes to satiate that need. A wonderful collection of insects were found on these trips, as the following photos show.

Jim McCormac talks about the singing insects to a group of 77 people: the biggest group of people ever had on the night hike!

David Wagner shows off a conehead katydid, careful to watch for its mandibles.

How could it be a successful hike without an assassin bug? This spiny assassin bug (Sinea sp.) was hiding on Eupatorium perfoliatum, also known as boneset.

This Delicate Cycnia (Cycnia tenera) was hiding on milkweed.

It's important to remain vigilant if you're an insect checking out Queen Anne's Lace: sometimes an ambush bug (Phymata sp.) will be waiting for you! They're masters of flower camouflage.

What discussion of camouflage would be complete without including the stick insects? These phasmids are a sight to behold, and you may be surprised at their size. This one isn't even fully grown.

I can't stress enough how beautiful it is to watch a cicada molt. This annual cicada (Tibicen sp.) is showing off its lovely wings--they really do have a blue hue to them immediately after molting. 

What's great about being surrounded by experts is that they'll let you know when you come across something rare. So when we came upon a lemon beauty of a caterpillar, Jim stepped up and told us more about it.

On our first nature walk, we came across a patch of wild blue indigo, Baptisia australis, one of the host plants for the Genista broom moth caterpillar, Uresiphita reversalis. One plant was providing habitat for a dozen of these caterpillars, leading us to conclude that its bright yellow color was a warning to birds that it sequesters toxins. This moth is starting to make inroads into Ohio, as it moves northward. It's probable that this range expansion has been caused by climate change. This species is more southern in distribution, but with the warming north, new habitat has opened up for it. For a more in-depth report of this caterpillar, check out Jim's blog post here.

This is a small snippet of what was happening at the conference. Despite all I've talked about here, the conference really was about plants, not insects. It just happens to be my luck that the insects are so intimately linked to the plants. If you haven't made it out to the conference before, start planning to attend: next year is sure to be even better.

What happens when you combine a butterfly and a dragonfly?

You end up with an adult antlion! Antlions are best known by their larvae, which are also called doodlebugs. They're normally noticed by the traps they set for other small insects, which appear as small cones in sandy areas. At the bottom of the cone lies the antlion, waiting for an unlucky ant to venture too close to the rim before falling to its death at the huge jaws of the antlion. There's no alternative: the sides of the cone are too slippery. The helpless ant will continue to slide down closer and closer to the antlion, before it's finally caught and sucked dry.

Since the larvae are often covered in sand,  you could be forgiven for not recognizing adult antlions upon encountering one. Their jaws aren't nearly as prominent, and puberty manifested some other huge changes.

A far cry from its doodlebug roots.

Being a member of the order Neuroptera (the lacewings), they gain beautiful wings as adults, easily as marvelous as any dragonfly. They're cooler even! When was the last time you saw a dragonfly with neat cowprint like this species has?

The veins in the wings also give the antlion a nice nerve-looking pattern.

This species is Glenurus gratus, a name which refers to the pleasing mottled pattern on the ends of the wings. It's an eastern species with a large wingspan, and it makes a presence when flying. I had the luck to find this antlion last night around my porch light, but had I not caught a glimpse of it, I never would have known it was there. It certainly looks huge when flying, but it barely makes any noise at all while flapping its gossamer wings. It's almost like watching plastic floating through the air. .....that's not the most inspiring comparison, but it's beautiful to watch. Definitely more beautiful than actual plastic floating through the air.

I jumped around like a madman trying to catch it, having only a plastic bug cage (I had just released a prionid beetle from the cage) with me, and it almost escaped into the darkness about five times before I had it. This was the first time I had actually seen an adult antlion, and it's now near the top of my list of beautiful insects. The wings might be the only beautiful part about it, but the way it flies is a spectacle in its own right. The novelty helps as well--the only Neuropterans I see with any frequency are the tiny green lacewings, which are bland in comparison.

Helicopter mode, engage!

The larvae of this species live in sawdust and other fine debris in the hollows of trees, and adults can be found in forests. If you admire the grace of butterflies and the fine beauty of dragonfly wings, you'd do well to seek out the adult antlions--you certainly won't be disappointed.

More information:

Species fact sheet by Miller & Stange, 1983

BugGuide

Wikipedia Antlion Article

Science Video Friday - Ohio's Biggest Salamander

Ohio has its fair share of amphibians, but none as unique as the hellbender. This huge salamander is as big as you're going to find in the US, with some individuals reaching lengths of almost 2.5 feet. Usually though, they will grow to a little over a foot long. This species has a beautiful scientific name: Cryptobranchus alleganiensis. The genus name hints at its nifty way of breathing, meaning "hidden gill." While the hellbender has lungs, it can also absorb oxygen through folds in its skin, which look like wrinkles along its body.

Unfortunately, the hellbender is endangered throughout its range, causing concern for the species' survival. Scientists are working to reintroduce the hellbender to streams which it used to live in, and the first reintroduction of hellbenders occurred last month. It's hoped that these efforts will restore the hellbender to some of its former range and be the start of viable populations.

For more information about this release, the ODNR has more information.