International Day for Biological Diversity 2010

May 22, 2010 jason 2 Comments

A melanistic male red-eared slider (Trachemys scripta elegans) sunning on a log (2009_07_25_027811)

Today, May 22, 2010, is the International Day for Biological Diversity. I began this post with the idea of celebrating the day by offering various examples of nature’s beauty. But then I realized ‘celebrate’ connotes a positive meaning that hardly seems appropriate. Why? This year the International Day of Biological Diversity comes on the heels of a very disconcerting study:

In 2002, world leaders committed through the Convention on Biological Diversity to achieve a significant reduction in the rate of biodiversity loss by 2010. We compiled 31 indicators to report on progress toward this target. Most indicators of the state of biodiversity showed declines, with no significant recent reductions in rate, whereas indicators of pressures on biodiversity showed increases. Despite some local successes and increasing responses, the rate of biodiversity loss does not appear to be slowing.

A common meadow katydid (Orchelimum vulgare) resting on a leaf (2009_10_03_030227)

At present, nearly 100 species of plant and animal combined go extinct during every 24-hour period. That equates to more than 35,000 species every year. And despite promises to address the causes and take action to reverse trends, governments and people as a whole have actually increased pressure on nature rather than decreasing it. Scientists call this the Holocene extinction, an ongoing mass extinction event. Whether or not it should be called the Anthropocene extinction is irrelevant; that humans are the only hope for stopping it is what matters.

A great egret (Ardea alba) standing in a lagoon (2009_09_05_028720)

“Going green” seems like a badge people wear so they can be patted on the back and congratulated for their foresight and compassion. Changing a light bulb helps, but changing our governments and our attitudes will make the only real differences. Will your grandchildren think of elephants in the same way we think of the Carolina parakeet? Will their grandchildren think of rusty blackbirds the same way our children think of the Tasmanian tiger? Will future generations think of the Arctic in terms of open water or endless seas of ice? Only time will tell.

A brick cap (Hypholoma sublateritium) that began drying out before it matured (2010_04_10_052872)

Biological diversity is a giant web. As each strand breaks, the entire web becomes more unstable. We scarcely can think ourselves immune to the effects of the slow-motion downfall of this massive interconnected system. It feeds us, it clothes us, it shelters us, and it heals us. But once the web no longer can support itself, we fall with the rest of it. I wonder if it will be too late before people understand that.

Canada wildrye (Elymus canadensis) blowing in the wind (2010_04_10_053186)

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Photos:

[1] Red-eared slider (Trachemys scripta elegans); admittedly the darkest melanistic male I’ve ever photographed, which makes him the oldest melanistic male I’ve ever photographed

[2] Common meadow katydid (Orchelimum vulgare)

[3] Great egret (Ardea alba)

[4] Brick cap (Hypholoma sublateritium); the mushroom did not mature before succumbing to our lack of rain this spring

[5] Canada wildrye (Elymus canadensis)

[I usually do not preach. In fact, over the years I’ve grown increasingly adverse to doing so. I will draw attention to someone else’s preaching if I feel the subject worthy of attention (preaching by proxy). But sometimes things hit me just right and I have to say something. This is just such a time because this subject is critically important and is something about which I am quite passionate.]

Whack!

May 20, 2010 jason 6 Comments

What is it with hitting me on or about the head? Whether it’s a bagworm landing in my hair, a wind-blown tree branch slapping me in the face, a large garden spider landing by my eye, or angry mockingbirds bouncing off my head, it just seems that my biological belfry attracts all manner of impacts. So I wasn’t surprised when…

A few weeks ago—this is obviously before my camera died—I sat on the porch of the White Rock Lake park office in Sunset Bay. I had just searched Winfrey Point for killdeer and scissor-tailed flycatcher nests. On my way back toward home I decided to sit for a few minutes and do some people watching.

And that’s when it happened. Whack! Upside the head. Again. I rolled my eyes.

It’s not like my cranium makes for a big target. Still, no matter where I am or what I’m doing, I should expect to attract nature’s kamikaze assaults.

Whatever hit me stuck in my hair. I could feel it moving. So I reached up and gently pulled it from my locks. It was large, perhaps 30mm/1.25 inches in length. A small tank struggling with my fingers. One look and I realized it was a male Florida leaf-footed bug (Acanthocephala femorata).

Florida leaf-footed bug (Acanthocephala femorata) (2010_04_28_054450)

I placed it gently on the office porch where it scrambled up to the door.

Florida leaf-footed bug (Acanthocephala femorata) (2010_04_28_054389)

There I was once again on my hands and knees chasing something with a camera, an act that begged for more than a few inquisitive looks from passersby. And it even elicited a quick visit from the park supervisor since I was crawling around their porch. I’m surprised he didn’t tap me on the scalp to get my attention.

Florida leaf-footed bug (Acanthocephala femorata) (2010_04_28_054382)

I know they’re considered pests, but I rather like the whole group of leaffooted bugs (family Coreidae). That’s probably because they remind me of kissing bugs (subfamily Triatominae), the devilishly delightful critters that drink blood—including from humans.

Florida leaf-footed bug (Acanthocephala femorata) (2010_04_28_054439)

My fondness for them notwithstanding, I scolded this chap for thumping my noggin. It won’t do any good, I know, if my experience is any indication. Nature will go right on taking aim at my thinker.

An Inordinate Fondness #4 – Road Trip

May 19, 2010 jason 15 Comments

I fondly remember those summer road trips from when I was but a young lad. Sometimes countless days spent driving the interstate highway system, thanks to which it’s now possible to travel coast to coast without actually seeing anything. But as a child there was plenty to see. Each time we climbed in the car it seemed like another big adventure, an opportunity to see the world.

As temperatures have warmed these past few months, the idea of a road trip has settled in my mind like an old friend. It calls to me with promises of miles of open country, new discoveries around every bend, fond memories when at last I return home.

So to marry that delightful idea with An Inordinate Fondness, the celebration of all things beetle-icious, I thought perhaps we could take a little drive together and see what we can see.

The ice chest is packed with drinks and snacks. There are coloring books available if you get bored. And remember: I don’t want to pull this car over, so let’s behave.

Now that all the seat belts are fastened, we’ll be on our way.

Our first stop is about 30 minutes north of Dallas. We’re stopping by to visit my friend Amber. She said recently that she’d discovered her macro vision.

Well by golly it appears she has! She found beetles and true bugs and flies and a whole world of neat stuff hiding right there under her feet. Now we’ll never get her out of the yard.

But time waits for no one, so we have to finish our lemonade and get back on the road. Did everyone go to the bathroom? I don’t want to have to stop in fifteen minutes.

OK, say goodbye to Amber.

Getting to Georgia takes a bit of time, sure, but it’s worth it. Joan has run across an eyed click beetle. Take a gander at that handsome insect.

Are those real eyes on its back? No, they’re not. They’re intended to fool predators.

Aren’t you the little comedian! Yes, they do make a nice fashion statement.

Wave bye to Joan. Now we’re off to North Carolina.

Swampy found a goldsmith beetle loitering about on her patio. And what a gorgeous critter it is! Looks like a polished gold nugget.

I know everyone wants to go canoeing with Swampy, but she’s a busy woman and we have a long trip ahead of us. Let’s pile in the car because I hear tell there are other fascinating finds on down the road.

Unfortunately now we’re going to backtrack a bit as we head to Missouri.

Shelly said she had something we simply have to see.

Oh my! Shelly, this is a family-friendly program. Well, yes, you’re right. Kids have to learn about the birds and the bees—and the beetles—at some point in their life. And green dock beetles are beautiful enough to make it look like living art.

Be sure to thank Shelly for inviting us over to see this. And be sure you tell your parents that it was her idea to show you that first image.

OK, moving along.

What’s that, Shelly? You have something else to show us? This is a treat!

Very nice… An American oil beetle.

That’s quite a compelling ruse the young put on. I didn’t know that before. I suppose clustering together on a flower and looking and smelling like a bee would be a pretty good defense for young beetles.

While we’re here in Missouri, let’s stop by and visit our friend Ted. He seems all worked up about something and I think we ought to see what the fuss is about.

Did he just adamantly declare that Josef Knull was wrong? Brave words. OK, Ted, show us the proof.

Well I do declare! Ted, I think you’re right and Josef was wrong. What makes it even more compelling is the rarity of the find and getting a new state record out of it based on Knull’s own specimens.

Sorry we have to run. Still plenty of places to go. Bye, Ted.

Yes, he is a very smart man, but don’t tell him that or it’ll go right to his head. We already may never hear the end of his having corrected Knull.

Finally made it to Illinois. Dave says he has a mighty fine goodie for us.

Holy cow! A fiery hunter. Just look at those rich colors and that iridescent shine. This is a beetle dressed for a night on the town.

Yes, I know it’s eating that grub. That’s what these beetles do. Life is always a game hunt and be hunted. It’s good you understand that.

Now say goodbye to Dave. We’re off to visit Alex just down the road.

Are you kidding? Carpet beetles, one of the most common insects, and so few have been collected? That is a funny tale.

I must admit I see them frequently. They like hanging out on the window screens. They’re almost small enough to slip through them.

Regrettably we have to run now, Alex. There’s still lots of driving ahead of us.

Where are we heading to now? Ontario.

The Geek in Question has been quite busy of late, but she’s never too busy for shiny.

Oohs and aahs all around. She’s found lots of shiny.

Great observation! Yes, that first beetle really does look like it’s doing an impersonation of an ant.

You like that red collar on the false blister beetle? When seen from behind it does look like Dracula’s cape.

One more quick glance at the lady beetle, then we have to go. Seabrooke is waiting for us.

This is why I said you didn’t need to dally over the lady beetle. Seabrooke found one, too. Isn’t she nice to explain that it’s so common here in Ontario?

Ha! No, I don’t think they’re all women. Didn’t you ever see “A Bug’s Life”? Then we’ll rent it when we get back to Dallas.

The time has come to say goodbye to Seabrooke. We have a long drive coming up. We’re heading to Alberta to see Adrian.

He found a ground beetle. And a rather attractive one at that.

What? Oh, did you hear that, poppets. It’s a hunter and a killer.

That’s a terribly insightful comment. The little mite does indeed look like a bejeweled decoration. That color contrasts well with the beetle’s dark hues.

Everyone wave bye to Adrian. Now we’re on our way to Colorado. It will be a long drive, so everyone visit the bathroom before we go.

No, we’re not there yet.

Nope, still not there.

No, it’s going to be a wee bit longer before we arrive.

Didn’t you go when we stopped to get gas? Well can you hold it for a few minutes? Good, we’ll stop as soon as we can.

Finally made it… I’m exhausted, but there’s no time to rest. Matthew and Heidi have a gift for us: an ironclad beetle.

Isn’t it fantastic? Looks just like a toy.

What was that? That’s so delightful! It plays dead, eh? Now that would be something to see.

And how right you are: they’re unmistakable and gorgeous.

I wish we had time for lunch, but we have one more long drive before we turn toward home. Where are we going now? Arizona.

Margarethe has invited us to see a nice collection of beetles. Or in the parlance of The Geek in Question, a big collection of SHINY!

Oh my… They are stunning insects. Such a diverse group.

I can’t stop snickering at the inflated beetle. It’s so fun to look at.

Seems like another good time to discuss the birds and the bees and the beetles. I may never hear the end of this from your parents. What kind of road trip did I take you on…

If you’ll say goodbye to Margarethe now, we’ll get on the road. It’s finally time to go home.

We’ve traveled many thousands of miles and have seen many marvelous things. I’m so glad we decided to do this. Nothing says summer like a long drive and plenty of opportunity to enjoy nature’s bounty.

Now I’m ready for a nap…

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The next edition of An Inordinate Fondness will be hosted by Seabrooke at the Marvelous in Nature. Get your entries to her no later than June 15, 2010.

This is how a camera dies

May 17, 2010 jason 13 Comments

It begins with a simple mission: photograph a white-marked tussock moth caterpillar (Orgyia leucostigma) who has enjoyed two days meandering about the patio.

A white-marked tussock moth caterpillar (Orgyia leucostigma) crawling down the patio fence (2010_05_14_054641)

The larva spent most of that time on the outside edge of the ceiling. Not easy to photograph up there given the high contrast of shooting at the sky.

A white-marked tussock moth caterpillar (Orgyia leucostigma) crawling on the patio fence (2010_05_14_054655)

But when it came down to the fence, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to grab some pictures.

A white-marked tussock moth caterpillar (Orgyia leucostigma) crawling on the patio fence (2010_05_14_054666)

While I was clicking away, I realized the camera sounded funny. That usual SLR shutter sound was coming across sickly and labored. Then I noticed the images didn’t look right. And finally I saw what looked like something hanging in front of the lens.

And with each new picture it grew progressively worse.

Then the camera died. Really, really, really died.

A bit of detective work poking at its innards revealed the second shutter curtain has broken (I originally thought it was jammed or loose). Though the mirror and the first shutter curtain work normally, the second shutter curtain is in more pieces than it should be. That has unfortunately jammed the entire shutter mechanism.

Now when I turn the camera on, it immediately goes to a fatal error.

This is traumatic, poppets. It’s the kind of thing that’s worth a tear or two. Me without a working camera? It’s a travesty and a deep wound.

So I’m left with this question: Do I have it repaired or do I purchase a new camera?

Meanwhile, the collection of unpublished photos is quite large, hence there is no fear that this means an interruption in sharing the things I’ve seen. What it does mean is that all new scenes are on hold. Temporarily.

[This is another caterpillar that you shouldn’t touch. Though not as dangerous as southern flannel moth caterpillars, white-marked tussock moth caterpillars can still deliver a troublesome allergic reaction if you come into contact with the setae—the hairs.]

Moments

May 14, 2010 jason 8 Comments

Transient and fleeting. A part of history as soon as they become the present. Sometimes only captured by the mind’s eye and quickly faded into dim memories.