The Salt-Marsh Caterpillar

Turning away for a picture is so hipster-emo. The only
way you could have squeezed more emo juice out of that
hipster rutabaga (a very indie & authentic root vegetable,
indeed) is if you had taken the pic yourself!

Despite the title, this week's post is not about a caterpillar - it's about a moth...a moth with a sort of Failure To Launch dilemma. If you didn't see Failure To Launch (and I'm sure many of you didn't), the gist is this. An aging Matthew McConaughey (still riding high from his critically acclaimed success, Tiptoes) is a 35 year old who lives in his parents' basement. Greatly chagrined, his parents (how long did it take them to notice that their son was 35?) hire a sort-of life-lessons educator/con-woman to give him some confidence and get him out of their house. This strategy gets Matt's dad (played by Terry Bradshaw, who is theatrically out of his element when he's not doing Shakespeare) off the hook for actually having to talk to his son. The film's educatrix is played by an unfortunately Sarah-Jessica-Parker-like Sarah Jessica Parker. SJP's teaching style (which I presume that she drew from her experience delivering thermodynamics lectures on 3-2-1 Contact!) is basically to trick the mark into thinking that they're dating. Also, Bradley Cooper stepped out of his comfort-zone to play a DB...but the details aren't that important. Basically, Failure To Launch is about a grown-up who hasn't grown up - he still identifies and lives more or less like an adolescent. I know I'm breaking with tradition here, by referencing a lousy film that I haven't seen. But if I had to guess (and I am informed that I, in fact, do have to guess), I'd posit that Failure ends with some personal growth and Matt & Sarah working things out...probably in a fairly unrealistic way (a cursory look at the film's Wikipedia entry seems to confirm this). I'd also bet that the personal growth didn't even require Gary Oldman to scootch around on his knees while trying to make his arms look shorter - because there are apparently no actual little people who are interested in acting (I know it's tough to make a Tiptoes reference when no one - at all - has seen Tiptoes, but I think I got the point across).

You may recall from my September 2012 post on the Hickory Horned Devil (NYT called it "compelling") that some caterpillars are so unique that they get their own name, separate from the moth or butterfly that they pupate into. But most caterpillars, like the Tiger Swallowtail caterpillar, just go by the name of their butterfly or moth - even if they are very interesting, themselves. The Salt-Marsh Caterpillar's situation is obviously different and a bit perplexing. While it's not unfair to call the Salt-Marsh Caterpillar caterpillar less than remarkable, the Salt-Marsh Caterpillar moth is actually very nice looking and, in my opinion, has some potential (you know, moth-potential...obviously). The Salt-Marsh Caterpillar moth doesn't see it that way, though. It's not terribly unusual, especially with the recession, that the Salt-Marsh Caterpillar would have some trouble getting its feet on the ground. But the issue here goes further. Estigmene acrea is a moth who feels that its better days are behind it. So, despite it's obviously inconsistent life situation, it continues to define itself as a high school football champion, or a frat-guy who still visits campus when the frosh are pledging, or a more subtle but similarly self-deluded female archetype (for example, referring to her manager's manager at work as her grand-big...does this ever happen?).

Salt-Marsh Caterpillar moths don't know when to say
when! I took this pic of one nursing a hangover after the
2012 Gathering of the Juggalos. Days after the event, she
was still all made up.

I plan to confront the Salt-Marsh Caterpillar about these issues shortly (hopefully it will go much more Oprah-Barak than Phil-Deena). But first, I'd like to come clean about my own past and tell a story about my own history in the care of bugs.

When I was a larva myself (around 6 years old), I was greatly dismayed at the state of health of the bugs I was finding on my porch (it was often Carpenter Bees on the Pooorch). This is why I founded the Bug Acupuncture and Rehabilitation Facility (BARF) (although much of the acupuncture would have been deemed trans-visceral and post-mortem). I ended up having to shut down the acupuncture operation after the IRS decided that the shadow boxes I was using provided me too much personal benefit to be claimed as a business expense (cops: come and try to snatch my crops...also my mounted insect collection. Luckily though, they left my old Cypress Hill CDs alone). What do you expect? Kindergarten was rough for me; I had fallen in with the wrong crowd (you know, nose-picking & temper-tantrums). Tax fraud was my third strike - bit I did my time (the judge gave me 10 minutes in the corner and I had to go to bed early).

So the bug hospital (BARF) didn't last...but, considering that most of the procedures we performed on live bugs involved little bits of Scotch tape "borrowed" from my mom (she ended up not wanting them back), I'm not sure that the net value of medical services available to the insect community diminished all that much following the bankruptcy proceedings and subsequent sell-off. Also, most of the bugs who weren't already locked in to Kaiser had lousy HMOs - how is a 6-year-old (who's parents still won't get him a fax machine) supposed to deal with all those cheap-o, denial-first plans?

The other inmates at my white-collar time-out facility told me that I probably would have been better off going into bug health insurance - but I wasn't in it for the money (I can't stand Jessie J, BTW. Also, have you seen her dance? If I may speak to her directly for a moment: You're an attractive lady JJ - work with that, not against it...well, why wouldn't I assume that she reads BugsIRL?).

Anyway, despite my (inauspicious) start in bug-medicine, I've lately been having more success in bug-counseling (see Hickory Horned Devil). So, as counseling is more and more becoming a cash-only business (I won't have to deal with non-competitive -  too often, criminally so -  health insurance companies!) with a much lower barrier to entry than some other health professions, it seems that all I need to do is hang up my e-certificate (click for degrees - I am a Phoenix!) and put a sign on my front door that says "Bug Therapy" (Whoa! Nice King's Speech ref, Brian! But I wonder what sorts of callers would come a'callin' if I actually put that sign up...probably my HOA, mostly).

So here goes - intervention time!

Listen Salt-Marsh Caterpillar (ugh, I can't even say that to her face! It's like addressing a 40-year-old who still goes by Timmy - or worse, T-Money!). We've known each other for a while and we've been through some stuff, but it's time for you to get yourself together! I don't know why your parents let you live in their basement for so long, or why your managers are always so mean to you, but it's grown-up time and you're late to the party.

Living somewhere that's more "chill" is not a
career path, in and of itself (even in Boulder).

Let's start off by talking about job stuff. I know that you've spent a lot of time pursuing some apparent dead ends. It's important to find some satisfaction in your work, but I think your problem is generally that you've been looking in the wrong places - or perhaps that you've been looking, with a skewed sense of your own talents, for something that strikes you as easy. I think maybe this pattern has continued a little too long in part because your false-starts were too easy to explain away. For example: seminary isn't for everyone (as I recall, your feelings changed dramatically when you realized that pastors don't just work one day a week), who knew that barber-college would be so expensive (were the other stylists underwhelmed by your bowl & clippers technique?), you spent a whole evening on that business plan but maybe it just wasn't clear how having your band there full time would benefit Pizza Hut, also...well I don't know how you flunked out of those free improv classes you signed up for...I could go on, but do you see that these are getting harder to explain away? It's become obvious to everyone around you that the real problem is something inside you - not fast-food management trainees that lack vision and not Yoga schools that frown on creativity.

But we've also got to have a conversation about your family - Arctiidae, the Tiger Moths (please don't Teresa me and screech profanities because I brought up your family). I don't want to blame them - your artistic, educational, and career path false starts are not their fault. But they are enablers. They make it alright for you and too many of your kin to just not grow up! I know that most of you eat grasses and low crops that someone else grew (we don't need to have a "47%" conversation here), but even those of you who feed on trees just go for the low-hanging fruit (such as apples)! Take your sister, for example: the Banded Woolybear (Isia isabella). Calling her a "woolybear" was cute when she was a larva, but she's a moth now. Further, who uses their name to advertise their band? BTW, have any of you told her that the influences on rap music are far too tenuous for a rag-time/hip-hop band to make any sense to people (let alone, sound anything less than...confused)?

Do you want another example? How about your cousin - Apantesis virgo, the Virgin Tiger Moth. He always was kind of a weenie. But his more recent boycott of anything that reminds him of Steve Carrell is just pathetic. Or how about your other cousin - Hyphantria cunea, the Fall Web Worm? I know you were always impressed with him, but living in a pup-tent in his parents' back yard neither makes him independent, nor a trailblazing outdoorsman.

This is the only life you're going to get, Salt-Marsh (yeah, yeah - I remember when you were a Buddhist...for like, a week! So don't even!)! By this point, you're probably never going to make it as a professional musician or entertainer - I think you'll be much happier with other aspects of your life once you can come to terms with that. That doesn't mean that those things can't be a fun hobby! But as long as you're focused on that stuff, you'll keep missing out on the important things. You still have time to make something of yourself, but life is short (especially yours: 6 weeks is normal in the mid-Atlantic) and the days are getting colder. I believe in your potential, Salt-Marsh. But it's time to apply that potential - preferably to something productive. But failing that: to something that allows you to support yourself, at a minimum.

Just one thing though...Whatever it is that you end up accomplishing: please don't let it involve laying 1200 eggs on my potatoes!

A girl who is warm and humanly during the day. A classy girl who know how to enjoy the freedom of a cup of coffee...Your older brother is Gangnam Style.
 - Psy, 2012

Tiger Swallowtail Caterpillar

I'm not a monster, I was born this way! Well...sort of. During my first few
growth stages I was going through this whole bird dropping mimic thing -
gross! But then I watched like 400 of those It Gets Better YouTube videos.
Now, I've unleashed the beast! Finally free to be me!

A friend sent me this picture last week. She took it while visiting at her parents' house in Blacksburg, VA (Go Hokies!). They weren't sure what this critter was, so they were initially calling it the mini-monster. But after it professed an intense affinity for Lady Gaga's music, they took to calling it their Little Monster.

While this Little Monster may be experimenting with his identity right now, he will eventually grow up to be a fabulous Tiger Swallowtail butterfly. For now, he's displaying some of nature's finest mimicry. Snake-mimicking is one fascinating characteristic of swallowtail caterpillars. If you find it hard to discern a caterpillar from this picture, then you have something in common with many insectivores (congratulations!). This caterpillar's head is the grayish ellipsoid at the lower end (as he's situated in the picture) of this critter. The yellow circles are just yellow circles (the red collar (or smile) is just coloration, too). He hasn't even developed the compound eyes that he'll have as an adult - he just has small clusters of simple eyes on either side of his true head (these true eyes are not visible in the picture). Now Tiger Swallowtails do a pretty neat job of mimicking snakes (maybe a ringneck snake (Diadophis punctatus), specifically?), but other swallowtail species' caterpillars will take the ruse in impressive directions. Some mimic the triangular heads of venomous snakes or have coloration patterns that look like snakeskin.

Adult Eastern Tiger Swallowtail, courtesy of Andy Emcee, via Wikimedia
Commons. This female is using her long proboscis to drink nectar from the
flower. Perhaps fueling up for Carnivale? I used to work with a guy who
wore super matchy, over-coordinated suits like this, but I never saw him
decked out for a trip to Rio like she is! Get her a crazy hat & thong and
she'll be ready for the parade. Come on Tiger Swallowtail, no one likes a
show off.

But this is definitely the caterpillar of a species of Tiger Swallowtail butterfly. Incidentally, the Tiger Swallowtail is considered the official state butterfly of Virginia. So this petite patriot (state-riot?) may have been on my friend's parents' southwest VA front porch as part of a door-to-door effort in support of one of the gubernatorial campaigns. I wonder which side he was working for (nobody say Green Party - not creative enough to be funny!).

It's no surprise that this Tiger Swallowtail caterpillar is such a big Lady Gaga fan. They have quite a bit in common. They're both known for reinventing themselves (can I get a whoot-whoot for pupation!). They both wear garish colors - the yellow adults' style is very last season (and the style of the adults from last season is very season-before-last) and the caterpillars are a very bright green until they're about ready to pupate (whoot-whoot!). Lady Gaga and swallowtail caterpillars are both excellent at mimicry. Gaga's well known mimics include meat (appropriate awards-show attire), Madonna (a much more dangerous pop star), the Thunderdome (I don't recall this outfit including a diminutive Tina Turner, or an even more diminutive Master (sans Blaster)), and bubbles. Ms. G often uses her camouflage to impress or intimidate hordes of pan-sexual urban 20-somethings. I've already written quite a bit about the swallowtail caterpillar's mimicry. But in addition, this caterpillar's chrysalis (like a smooth cocoon without silk) is exquisitely well camouflaged to look like a twig (a Disco Stick?), often with intricate coloration and even lichen-like mottling. Swallowtail caterpillars also have their own signature scent. If they feel threatened, they can rear up on their back legs (6 front legs, 10 prolegs in the back that it will lose during pupation (whoot-whoot!)) and evert their osmeterium (do what?). The osmeterium is a brightly colored and aromatic scent gland. When they "inflate" this organ out from a hidden duct behind their head, it looks like a snake's forked tounge (and really stinks up the place). Due to its appearance, this gland is sometimes referred to as "scent tentacles," but I'm pushing for scentacles (did you say Santa Clause?)! Finally, caterpillars share with Ms. G a strong aversion to wearing pants (I counted out all their legs a few sentences ago...what's your excuse, G?). In fact, the obscenely underclothed caterpillar in the picture above was on its way to the airport (hi-ooooooh! Waiting on Perez to Tweet up #BugsIRL)!

Let's get serious for a moment - this is a serious blog for serious people and I am sick of all this skylarking! The Eastern US hosts several species of Tiger Swallowtail. Differentiation between adults of the different species is not trivial, the indicators are subtle and only observable from close up. I'd say that the best way to differentiate between the species as larvae is to wait for them to pupate (whoot-whoot!), then wait another one to two weeks (or until the following Spring, if you're observing the final generation of the season) for them to emerge as adults. Failing that, we can play the likelihood game - which is often useful, but not nearly as fun as Hungry Hungry Hippos or Candyland. Speaking of Candyland, I'd like to make a confession: I, Brian MacBugsmansonsten, am a Hasbro-certified cheatsman. Yes - I have grifticulated like a no-good splinterhead. While I was elementary school aged, I would often visit my cousins who lived near by. While visiting, it was pretty typical for us to hit a few rounds of Candyland. In nearly every round played, over a number of years, I would always manage to stack the deck of cards so that I would draw Queen Frostine on my first turn - this jump-to way-point was the closest one to the finish line because, as I recall, my cousins' game no longer had the card for Molasses Swamp because one of them was afraid of Gloppy the Molasses Monster. As I said, this ruse went on for several years. But by the end, I think I wanted to get caught.

Anyway, back to the bugs (and seriousness)! Tiger Swallowtails are not migratory like their cousin the Monarch Butterfly (who I hear is also so afraid of Gloppy that their dad had to remove that card from the deck), so that leaves three species that my friend's Little Monster is likely to be. The first possibility is the Canadian Tiger Swallowtail. Although it's range extends south along the Appalachians, I haven't come across a map that shows it quite as far south as Blacksburg. The second possibility is the Appalachian Tiger Swallowtail, which was formerly considered to be a subspecies of the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (door number 3). However, it's my understanding that this species is limited to a single brood that lives only in the mountains of western North Carolina - which is about as far from Blacksburg as I've seen the range of the Canadian Tiger Swallowtail extend. This leaves the third possibility: the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail (Papilio glaucus), whose range cleanly overlaps Blacksburg and the surrounding areas  (who chose this ordering? why couldn't we have just started with the most obvious one?).

So, with another mystery solved, it's time for me to leave you with a parting thought. But first, I want to thank everyone who's sent me bug pics with ID requests. If I haven't gotten to your request yet, know that it's in the works and I will get to it soon. If you have an ID request or just an awesome bug pic that you want to share, please send me an email at WhoDatBug@gmail.com.

Don't slow! Drive it, clean it, lights out, bleed it. Spend the lasto. I got it. In your pocko. I got it.
 - Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta (Just Dance, 2008)

Hickory Horned Devil

Whoopity-woop-woop ba-doop!
In honor of my first bug ID request (since starting the blog), I'm posting a special, mid-cycle update!

Hey you, with the hand! Let go of my manuscript!

The other day, I got this picture from my sister-in-law. Imagine, finding a perfectly good piece of paper like that on the ground! Also, there's an interesting bug on the paper. That's not her hand in the picture. Her friend's dad was at work and he and some co-workers came across it - the paper, as well as the bug, that is.

This little devil is a caterpillar called the Hickory Horned Devil (heretofore referred to as HHD). Sometimes caterpillars are so unique or recognizable that they get their own name, independent of the moth or butterfly that they pupate into. The HDD is one of these, for obvious reasons. HHD caterpillars are the larval state of the moth known as the Regal Moth (also sometimes called the Royal Walnut Moth). Both of these are among the  largest caterpillars and the largest moths in North America.

After hatching from an egg laid just a few days prior, the tiny, nondescript blackish or sometimes yellowish caterpillar quickly turns a splotchy black and white. They mostly feed at night on leaves of several types of trees (including hickory, oak, and sumac). In a short amount of time, they become the giant caterpillar with the crazy horns and spikes that you see in the picture. The pictured HHD is probably in its 6th and final instar (or growth stage) before it pupates into the Regal Moth. After ravenously feeding in its 4th and 5th growth stages, it changes color from a garish, bright green to the turquoise-green seen in the pic above. It then makes its way to the ground, digs itself a nice little hole, and forms a pupa (looks kind of like a black or 80% cacao dark chocolate-brown babushka, all wrapped up and swaddled). It then goes through the lengthy process of transforming itself from an HHD to a Regal Moth.

Science Photo Library (sciencephoto.com)
provided this pic of a female Regal Moth waiting
for some dudes to show up with margaritas.

The HHD pupa overwinters in the ground and emerges in midsummer as the Regal Moth - one of the largest North American moths. Like another bug I recently wrote about (see post on the Dobsonfly), the adulthood of the Regal Moth is brief and has only one purpose: make more Regal Moths. After emerging from the pupae and drying off, adult Regal Moths typically live for about a week. Like newly minted adults on spring break, the males typically have more fun during their week of freedom than the females do. The males will usually try to mate with as many females as they can during that week, whereas females are stuck with their one clutch of eggs after a single hookup.

There are other interesting things about HHDs and Regal Moths. First, they are closely related to the Giant Silkworm Moths and are traditionally grouped into the same Family (Saturniidae). But more modern sources group Regal Moths into a separate family: the Royal Moths (Citheroniidae). This is largely due to several subtle wing differences, but can be superficially attributed to the lack of large, eye-like wing spots. Luna moths are among the most well known and most recognizable Giant Silkworm Moths in the Eastern US and these big eye spots are one of their defining features. You may remember the Luna Moth from sleeping pill commercials as the somewhat creepy, big, green fairy-like (absinthe connection?) moths that flap around people's bedrooms and even tuck them in (no way that a moth could lift and pull up someone's sheets). Although, the Lunesta commercials mostly misrepresent Luna moths. I'm not sure how, other than pharmacalogically assisted, someone would be able to sleep knowing that a sentient, giant, glowing moth was sitting on the pillow next to them...all night...watching them sleep, until daylight come (tally me banana!).

Other interesting facteroonies about the Regal Moth (Citheronia regalis) have to do with their pre-adulthood, before all the responsibility of mating as much as possible in a week (wasn't that the premise for Porky's 3?!) weighs them down. While swaddled like a newborn in their pupal state, they will typically overwinter underground for quite a few months - September to July is typical. But, a significant minority of the population will actually stay underground for a whole extra year! This is presumably to keep the gene pool mixed up. But I suspect it has a lot to do with all the weight they put on while gorging themselves as caterpillars.

Although HHDs have a pretty showy and dangerous-looking display of spikes and horns, none of them contain any poison and HHDs are actually considered one of the more easily handled large caterpillars. It's all just for show! They're born with their antlers deflated, and it's normal for them to spend 20 or 30 minutes inflating them (with hemolymph, or bug-blood, I believe) while eating the shells of their eggs. But when they're very young, they rely on another form of visual trickery for defense. I mentioned earlier that they quickly turn from blackish or yellowish to black and white splotched. Well, when they curl up into a J-shape during the day, they look surprisingly like bird poop. Since exactly 0 birds like to eat bird poop (contrasted with the many birds that like to eat caterpillars), this is a pretty good defense - a lot like the fake cans of Barbasol or Scotch Guard you can buy at the Container Store to hide your valuables in. But the specifics of this defense beg the question: did natural selection lead to this caterpillar's doo-doo-camo, or was it the HHD's own self-loathing that made its outsides look like it felt on the inside?

Before I finish, I'd like to get all guidance counselor for a minute and have a very special sidebar with the HHD - a little heart-to-heart, if you will (right now I'm turning my chair around and sitting on it backwards so that I seem more at ease and relatable).

Hickory Horned Devil - can I call you Hicky? What's with you these days? You're no devil and everyone knows that those horns are just for show...just to keep people away. I want to know what's going on with that guy in there. Why won't you let anyone in? Sure, you looked like crap when you were younger - but that was only because you made yourself look that way. Now you look all dangerous, but is that just so that no one bothers you about your weight? We're worried about you, Hicky. We all saw how you ate all those hickory and oak leaves all by yourself. I'll tell you what I don't want - I don't want to come back here in a year and find out that you're still hiding underground. Look - I'm not trying to give you a hard time or come down on just you...but I'm also worried about your future. We all are. I mean, what will you do once you grow up and can't stay in your pupal case any longer? I'm worried that you'll come out of the ground and spend your whole adulthood making risky decisions; jumping into bed with everyone you meet and, in the end, have nothing to show for it but a bunch of kids from a bunch of different baby-mamas, who end up living the same downward spiral that you've been on all summer. Thanks for listening, Hicky.

And thank you for reading! In addition to my regular posts, I plan on responding to a number of other identification requests in the coming two weeks. These posts may be shorter and more to the point than you're used to, but I'm sure you'll enjoy them!

That girl bad looking like a bag of money; I go and get it and I let her count it for me.
 - William Leonard Roberts II (AKA, Rick Ro$$)

The Dobsonfly

Aside from some interesting correspondence shared with a new spider-friend across the pond, I didn't get much feedback following my last post (Woodlouse Hunter). Otherwise, no comments, no calls, just one email basically saying: less scary spiders, more kitty-cats. Thanks, Mom...

While I won't be taking this suggestion, per se, I'm sure that the cats will reappear in these posts soon enough. However, this suggestion has made me feel encouraged to do something that I had some notional intention of doing when I first started this blog. That is, to temper the posts about scary, mean danger-bugs with posts about happy nice-time-bugs - this includes avoiding consecutive posts about spiders. This is somewhat unfortunate, as I have good pictures of several different spiders, as well as collateral written for these posts. Listen to me - "collateral?" I've been listening to too many of my wife's work stories! Side note: is it inappropriate to refer to a communications professional as a commie? So, as my new spider-posts policy goes into effect, my writhing jar of spiders (with that lid that just won't stay on) will just have to sit teetering over my wife's side of the bed for a little longer.

So this post is about a super-nice bug: the Dobsonfly! Dobsonflies and I are double-best-friends. Many people don't realize that, although modern glitter is synthetic, the glitter and sparkles of yester-year was actually farted out by Dobsonflies. Further, as they fly, the flutter of their wings makes the sound of patriotic songs - reminiscent of a time when everyone in America was super nice to each other and everybody got along really well!

While some entomologists have questioned the super-true facts stated in the previous paragraph, there are aspects of their lives that everyone agrees on. One of them being that they are one of a large number of insects that live most of their lives under water, after which, they have a brief adult-hood (when we typically encounter them) on land - just long enough to show off a little bit and make some descendants.

Allow me to tell the Dobsonfly's story by relating it to another story...The year is 2006 - winter-time. Twitter is still in development and NASA's Mars Reconnaisance Orbiter is braking into the correct orbit. But there's one thing everyone is talking about this winter: Last Holiday, starring Queen Latifah. She plays a spend-thrift with a forgettable existence, and can barely work up the courage to interact with the love of her life, LL Cool J, who plays some sort of a food preparation specialist. Each day of her life is like the one that preceded it until she bumps her head and goes to the doctor. Following a brief checkup, the doctor gives her some troubling news: she has just a couple of weeks to live! Upon receiving this news, she packs her things and takes her dream vacation - apparently, her lifelong dream was to go snowboarding in the Czech Republic (it offends me that the writers went with such a stereotype - not all African Americans are obsessed with Eastern European snow-sports!). While on her last holiday, she spreads her wings, takes risks, and shows the world what she can do!

Although this cinematic masterpiece grossed a whopping 38 mega-dollars (meaning that it only lost, by today's standards, a modest fortune - barely enough for an entire family to live off the interest from, forever), this is, in actuality, several times the median annual earnings of Eastern Dobsonflies in the mid-Atlantic region (dobsonflies are freaking-broke!).

I am a hellgrammite, courtesy of Texas A&M. I actually
only have six legs - most of those swimmies are actually
gill covers. Also, I got these sweet henna-tattoos in
Galveston, during beach week!

Dobsonflies start their lives as eggs laid on vegetation overhanging water. Once hatched, they spend several years as completely-aquatic hellgrammites (fancy name for Dobsonfly larvae). Much like Her Majesty's character in Last Holiday, they mostly live under rocks eating other aquatic insect larvae. This soggy existence will persist for several years - unless some angler or fish (but probably not an angler fish) discovers them and turns them into a fish meal (which I imagine is quite a bit more satisfying for the fish than those little fishfood flakes (unless the hellgrammite was on the end of a hook (which, in the long run, would probably end up being worse for the fish (additional, unnecessary, parenthetical sub-thought))). BTW, one researcher says that hellgrammites in captivity will eat these fishfood flakes.

Once a hellgrammite larva is ready to pupate into an adult Dobsonfly, it comes out onto land, spends a few weeks underground, and emerges as an adult to great fanfare (certainly putting my Quinceanera to shame - thanks, Mom...). At this point, the adult Dobsonfly has approximately one week to live (typically a few days more for females, and a few days less for males) before going off to insect heaven (which is better than it sounds). Alternatively, bad Dobsonflies go to...oh, never mind. That one's too easy...

So imagine that you just became an adult and you found out you have one week to live. What would you spend that week doing? Probably you would spend it trying to hook up with someone.

I'm (wingsuit-skydiving) learning to fly like a freshly matriculated dobsonfly........

...........And I'm learning to breathe air like a freshly devastated rapper/actress/model.

Look at us! We're like the Patty Duke Show!

Identical cousins! They laugh, alike; they walk, alike - sometimes they
even talk alike!

Male Eastern Dobsonfly,
courtesy of UFL Entomology
dept.

As it turns out, the priorities of adult dobsonflies diverge a bit from HRH Dana Owens. The plot of Last Holiday is pretty chaste and, while the main character spends a lot of time eating, adult dobsonflies don't eat at all!

The lovely female in the picture above (you're gorgeous QL, but I'm talking about the Dobsonfly) will spend her nights seeking out the male with the largest mandibles and her days recuperating from partying and hopefully a one-night-stand with one of these guys on the right...

Despite their intimidating appearance, male Dobsonflies are harmless. Their crazy-long jaws don't get much leverage, and they're not as sharp as they look. From what I've read, it seems like they're only used in mating - presumably to hold on to a wily female (how very 50 Shades), although this has been contested. I only met the female and I haven't come across any pictures of this. But frankly, I'm comfortable with a little bit of mystery here. I have also read that males will use their mandibles to joust with each other. If this is the case, then I hope they have better control of their stupid ostriches than NES gave you, especially around all that lava! (This is a reference to an old and frustrating video game - if you're not familiar with it, it's probably not worth looking up.)

Speaking of when I met this female (still talking about the bug, QL), we actually crossed paths outside of a hospital. It was fairly early in the morning, near the Potomac River, and I assume that she had come the night before because of all of the bright lights (and thumping music - Northern VA's #1 party hospital!). My wife and I were there to get a sonogram of our larva (I do plan on spending the next 18 years trying to turn him into a bug).

My boyfriend may be harmless, but
don't mess with me! I can do some
damage with these jaws!

As my pregnant, exhausted wife was making her way back to the car (she didn't want to stick around) I was waylaid, taking (unfortunately sub-par) pics with my cell phone. When I got close to her, she made this threatening gesture (raising her head and spreading her jaws). Males will also do this, but this could be considered an example of one's mouth writing a check that cannot be cashed. I've also read that Dobsonflies are able to produce a smelly spray as a last defense against predators and bad dancers. I neither harassed her enough, nor Macarena'd vigorously enough, to gain any first-hand experience with this.

Another interesting thing about the Eastern Dobsonfly is that their hellgrammites all tend to leave the water at about the same time. With such a short life as adults, this is not surprising. One researcher stated that people living along Virginia rivers (whoot! whoot!) report that hellgrammite exoduses (these are also known as "hellgrammite crawling") are triggered by thunderstorms. It was suggested that the vibrations from the thunder spur them out of the water. Personally, I'm pretty dubious about this. Maybe I'll read the whole report one day...

I've seen a few different claims of the exact number of Dobsonfly species - the number tends to be around 30, with a few species as yet unnamed. Most of these are native to South America, though. In the US, there are said to be only four species, with three of those being confined to the west. So, along with this big-fine woman (still about the Dobsonfly) backing it up into a nice resemblance to the Eastern Dobsonfly, it would be pretty unlikely that she was anything else. Therefore, I confidently dub thee: Corydalus cornutus, the Eastern Dobsonfly.

While Dobsonfly adults live ephemeral lives, much like in Last Holiday, their singular focus allows them to get what they came for with fewer conflicts of interest than a celebrity spokesperson for Jenny Craig and Pizza Hut. As someone with their fingers in many sinister soups (what? "easily distracted" would have sufficed), I almost envy the singular purpose of their being. But, contrary to Mama's advice in a famous Lynard Skynard song, simple lives are quickly forgotten.

Peace & bacon grease! Out!

Now I'm standing in the kitchen, carving up the chicken for dinner. And in storms my husband Wilbrin in a jealous rage. "You been screwin' the milkman!" ... Then he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife ten times.
 - Dana Elaine Owens

Robber Fly - Hanging Thief

"Don't you put me on that internet!"

Thanks for coming to my blizzog! This post is about one of my cats warding off a dangerous thief (sort of), so hopefully lots of unwitting Googlers will end up here!

Recently, my wife saw one of our cats standing at the back window, looking out onto our deck and pawing at the glass.

Since this obstinate feline flat-out refused to sign the release, I'll attempt to maintain her anonymity by referring to her as P.

When my wife went over to see what all the hubbub was, she spotted the creeper pictured below - most likely "casing the joint."

"Get that camera away from me - I've
already got two strikes!"

My wife snapped this pic with her BlockBerry. This charming lady, who's probably making mental notes of where I keep all my best stuff, is a Robber Fly. I can't confidently identify the exact species from this picture. But I am fairly confident that she's from the genus Diogmites.

Robber Flies of this genus are commonly called Hanging Thieves. This adorable name comes from the  interesting way that they often end up eating their prey. Not to send people away from my site, but if you image search this genus, you'll see some cool pics her and her kin holding and eating bugs twice their size while they hang onto a plant or stem with only one leg! Some of those pics may give the impression that they hunt by grabbing other bugs as they fly by, and stop them by holding on to perch and prey. This is not the case, though. They catch their prey (often bees, wasps, flies, dragonflies, or other robber flies) in mid-air, then they fly to a perch that they choose to dangle from. Does this seem a little dumb to anyone else? Unless doing this gives them some significant advantage in say, fleeing from bigger predators who see their catch, it seems like they're just showing off. And no one likes a show-off. Not cool, robber flies.

Now it's easy for me to act all tough and totally like whatever from the safety of the interwebs, but robber flies are not to be trifled with. Although I'm proud of P for being brave, I'd prefer that she not go nose to rostrum with one sans-glass. They can inflict a nasty bite, if handled (they don't hunt people...yet). Although they do not sting, their bite is more like a sting, than your typical bite. They use a bristly, stabbing proboscis to inject digestive juices and a paralyzing toxin (probably won't paralyze you, unless you're another insect).

By the size of her abdomen, this Hanging Thief looks like she's got some eggs to lay (do these shoes make me look fat?). She'll lay her eggs in the ground, using dexterous digging tools at the tip of her abdomen - Go, Go Gadget Ovipositor! Once they hatch, the larvae will prey on other insect larvae (larvae-on-larvae crime). In a post on NormanLavers.net, Norman makes a comment about robber fly mating that I think we can all relate to.
Diogmites mate tail to tail, as do most of the more "primitive" robber fly species (many of the more "modern" species mate facing the same direction, with the male above the female - generally holding her by the eyeballs).
Thanks for that tidbit, Norman!

Regarding doing it Diogmites-style (just coined, boo-yah!), I'm offering extra-special props to any movie-buffs who can identify this emoticon: ))<>((
Leave your guesses in the comments. If no one gets the answer, I'll explain it in a future post.

Also, P is doing fine. My wife says that, following the whole robber fly incident, she walked to the middle of the room and slept in the sun for a while (P did, not my wife...but I wasn't there to confirm).

Reputation for tasting. I'm killin' 'em hoes like Jason.
 - Dwayne Carter Jr. (Petite Wayne), 2012

Bugs In Real Life: Classic - Cicada Killer

A long time ago (~6 months), in a land far away (about 4 hours, if you hit traffic right) a dear dear friend of mine told me that every summer their neighborhood becomes festooned with giant hornets...Well, she didn't say "festooned", but the retelling sounds better that way. Actually, I'm not sure that really makes sense...looks like dictionary.com defines the verb festoon as reproducing the natural gum patterns around a tooth or denture. This was a reeeeeeeally long time ago (~6 months), but I'm pretty sure that my friend was trying to describe these bugs' abundance, rather than their involvement in oral prostheses...

Anyway, I asked her to send me a pic once they were around again and I'd see what I could tell her.

This first pic, at right, shows a live one on her front stoop. For sizing comparison, the unidentified article in the northeast quadrant is approximately the width across of your typical sidewalk bird poop.

Coenwulf, King of Mercia, had the right idea by
nonchalantly ignoring the giant, him-sized wasp
by his face. The other two on the silver drachm
are attempting an advanced technique, but their
form is off...this will not end well.

This second pic, below, shows a less live one after it met the business end of a spray can of wasp killer. The sender did not detail whether spraying caused the leg to come off. For helpful sizing comparison, I digitally added these familiar coins during post-processing.







The "giant hornets" that my friends in Virginia Beach are sharing their yard with are not actually hornets. They're actually a type of wasp. Both pictures are of a male Eastern Cicada Killer, or Sphecius speciosus. Although they are also sometimes called Sand Hornets, and (at least, to me) the females bear some resemblance to hornets, this name is a misnomer.

Like any good friend would, I recommended that they get a lot closer to take more pictures the next time they saw one. The second pic was sent after an altercation went south - my friend apparently exclaimed "them bees is crazy!" Despite their size and lack of fear of people, they're fairly harmless and usually just curious. This is especially true of the males, who are known for investigating just about anything that passes close enough to them. The males are not territorial towards humans and they don't even have a stinger. The males do have a sharp spine at the tip of their abdomen, though (totally not a stinger). As a side note, my friend confirmed for me that this Cicada Killer was, in fact, very "curious." He then reminded me that, where he is from, "curiosity gets you killed." I think that adds a nice layer of authenticity to this pic.

The larger female, whose body and face look, to me, quite a bit more like a hornet's or yellow jacket's, are able to sting. But their sting is considered fairly innocuous. Also, like many wasps, they do have strong jaws that can (but typically don't) bite. So I guess they're not completely harmless, but they're typically only known to sting humans when handled roughly or running for political office.

As adults, they eat nectar and sap. The females will capture and paralyze cicadas (hence their name), but this is to feed their young when they hatch. The males may appear to be hunting other bugs, but they're really just checking things out.

They don't live in colonies, but it's typical to see multiple burrows close together. This has to do with soil and drainage or the presence of an especially dominant male - not an underground super-hive of buzzing terror.

That's all for this post. I'm not entirely sure how to end one of these, so I guess I'll just encourage anyone reading to subscribe, comment, recommend, like, etc. Regarding comments, I'm probably only going to approve ones that I deem worthy of being part of this esteemed forum. On the other hand, I likes me some clevers - so if you have something clever to say, I may approve the comment, even if it's not that relevant. So...

"Grind on the pony, girl, show him how you ride it"
-B. Knowles, 2012