Clown or Hister Beetles

In the State Trust Land just beyond our property fence, several old saguaros are not looking healthy and big arms dropped to the ground. While these pieces first seemed to just shrink and mummify, recent rains brought forth a putrid stench of decay and decomposition. Time to look for insects that may use this resource. When I carefully lifted a piece yesterday, a shiny, flat beetle fell free. It's long protruding mandibles and square shape identified it as Hololepta, a Clown Beetle. Its hefty size, habitat and location speak for subgenus Leionota and species Hololepta yucateca

Hister beetles are found in all imaginable habitats with rich organic resources from beach debris to bird nests. Members of the nominate subgenus Hololepta are found under bark of decaying hardwoods; members of the subgenus Leionota in rotting vegetation incl. cactus, agave, and palms. Hister Beetle larvae and adults do not directly feed on the rotting material. Instead, they are predators, hunting other insects (such as maggots), and other small invertebrates.

Histeridae are among the larger beetle families. 440 spp. in 58 genera occur in our area (North America north of Mexico), ca. 4000 spp. in ~330 genera worldwide. At 20mm (2 of that are the prognath Mandibles) my smooth flatt black beetle is among the largest Histeridae I have seen.

Days after a Big Storm

After the wettest July on record, August is shaping up to really drown us. Two nights ago the regulatory washes that cut through our land were running over capacity several times, and sheet floods were reflecting the moonlight everywhere else. For hours, it sounded like freight trains racing by. Of course the dirt roads in Picture Rocks were impassable for hours. In the morning, the arroyo beds and our road were deeply scoured out. All the loose sand deposited by the last storm was gone, caliche and hard clay lie open. Our main wash that years ago was easy to walk across is now 5 to 6 feet deep with steeply eroded banks. The long roots of Ironwood trees, as thick as my upper arms, lay open and are badly abraded.

During the storm, wind gusts up to 60 mi/h and twisted branches off Palo Verdes and even Ironwood Trees. Several old Chollas and Prickly pears fell over. Some Barrel Cacti, just ready to bloom, also succumbed, following gravity’s pull when absorbed water made them top-heavy over roots anchored not very deeply in soggy soil.

But as destructive as the storms were, new life is now thriving all over the desert. Where there was bare sand for years, cheat grass and little yellow-blooming Asteraceae are covering the ground. Chamomile smell mixes with the aroma of wet, blooming creosote bushes and the heavy sweetness of Acacia flowers.

Barrel Cacti are crowned in wreaths of yellow, orange or deeper red flowers. Yellow stars sparkle on Pencil Chollas. Cactus Longhorns love juicy cacti for themselves and as hosts for their larvae. Sacred Datura and Devils Claw sprout from long dormant seeds and immediately get ready to produce new flowers. Mushrooms appear.

Long dead looking Desert Hackberry bushes leaf out and provide food for caterpillars - An Empress Leilia is hanging around, but I'm not sure if the caterpillars are hers. Even though most puddles from earlier storms seem to have evaporated much too quickly for any tadpole to develop, the ground is suddenly alive with hopping toadlets.

And while I'm taking these photos I'm providing nourishment, albeit involuntarily and under protest, to the next generation of Mosquitoes whose mothers also seemed to have appeared out of no-where

Monsoon Morning

A potent Thunderstorm woke us up today. There was no way out to go for a run: the road was a wash and all the washes were too deep to cross. 0 8 inches in half an hour and Tucson Mountain run-off will do that. Our Costa's Hummingbird was hiding under the eves, chirping indignantly, the Kestrel pair took to the blustery sky and would not stop screaming. I hope that does not mean that a big saguaro, containing their nest cavity, fell victim to the sudden onslaught of water. Why they would care about that in August I do not know. Curve-billed Thrashers were singing from the top of cacti. I did not get to go exploring any further: I found the garage had flooded and we needed to push the water out before it got into boxes of art work and materials stored there. Around 6 am the washes have already shrunk down to a trickle. Some spots of blue in the sky. But the next wall of clouds is moving in.

Arizona Summer "Poppies' - really Big-flowered Caltrop

This July (2021) was the rainiest in (measuring) history. A lot of the water came in heavy thunder showers and may have run off quickly, but we also had some long-lasting slower drizzle that hopefully soaked in deeply. I’m not sure that on the west side of the Tucson Mountains this will end the record breaking drought of 2020 and before. But temporarily, things are looking up: In the lower desert around our house, Palo Verde seeds germinate and seedling powerfully push up through the wet sand, Mammilarias bloom, Ironwoods and Mesquites leaf out, so do our Ocoltillos. Creosote bushes turn from brown husks into shiny-green yellow-star-spiked beauties.

At slightly higher elevations, grasslands turn into wildflower carpets. Silverdollar-sized (?) orange flowers of so-called Arizona Poppies are so far the main contributors.

Instead of Poppies, I’d rather call these wilfd flowers Arizona Caltrop or Kallostremia grandiflora, because this summer annual is not related to our orange poppies of spring that it superficially resembles. It rather belongs to the family Zygophyllaceae and is therefore a relative of the creosote Bush Larrea tridentata. Another relative that I sadly often encounter on our dirt road is the invasive goat-head or puncture vine (Tribulus terrestris).

A rich pollen load of the flowers is probably responsible for a common Spanish name: mal de ojos (sore eyes). They must also be rich in nectar, as big Scoliid Wasps, Colpa octomaculata are the main visitors, but these solitary wasps do not collect pollen. Nevertheless, curling their heavy bodies around anthers and stylus, they visit flower after flower, and seem to be major pollinators of Big-flowerCaltrp.

On the leaves of Kallostremia I repeatedly found a relatively uncommon leaf beetle, Leptinotarsa peninsularis. Although I yet have to find larvae, I think that Caltrop is the hostplant of this Leptinotarsa.

Predacious Water Beetles in the Desert

Eretes sticticus, Western Eretes, is often found deep in the desert where only temporary pools offer breeding options. It is a night flyer and is drawn to reflections and lights, so it may land on the roof of your car if you wash it more often than I do. It has the most rapid development rate of any dytiscid, observed to develop from egg to adult in 15 days in a temporary pool in AZ (Kingsley 1985). photographed at my blacklight in Picture Rocks, Pima Co, AZ.

Elf Owl in Nature and Art

Young Elf Owl waiting for food Photo Melanie Barboni

 Last Saturday I visited a Bugging-Friend from the East Coast at his rented casita in Madera Canyon. While waiting for bugs to arrive at our black lights, I was drawn to a group of birders who watched the top of a power post across the street: at ever shorter intervals  small round head appeared in a woodpecker hole. A juvenile Elf Owl who made low 'scolding' noises to express his inpatients and hunger.  Everybody was waiting for the arrival of the parents to deliver food. I was worried that the little crowd of birders with their lights would disturb and inhibit the birds. But I was assured that this was the ninth year of  successful breeding in that hole with similar crowds of birders in attendance. If ever birds were habituated, it was this pair of Elf Owls. So maybe it was the scarcity of insects that slowed the birds down? Madera Canyon is a Mecca for entomologists because insects are so divers and plentiful here, but the drought has been severe  and beetle numbers were very low compared to other years. Consequently, another insectivore, the Elegant Trogon, seems to have shown up in very reduced numbers for this 2021 breeding season.   

A first dinner outside the nest hole Photo by Melanie Barboni

But there was another option, and that proved to be the case here:  raptor parents seem to use  the hunger of their nearly grown brood as a strategy to tease the fledglings out of the nest. I have watched several species of Falcons and hawks do that routinely. At this nest, I missed the great event, but my new acquaintance Melanie was so kind to send me some of her excellent photos later.  

Incidentally, Elf Owls had been very much on my mind for a couple of weeks. I had used the enforced isolation of the COVID year of 2020 to learn a new arts and crafts technique, sculpting in papier-mâché and my latest project had been an Elf Owl.

Papier-mâché is a very old and traditional medium for sculptors and appeals to me because a lot of recycled material can be used. I follow the papier-mâché clay recipe by Jonni Good  I learned most of the technique from her excellent videos and blog.

I began by closely studying the characteristics of our smallest owl on scores of images I pulled up from the internet. The most striking characters besides the diminutive size are the big head, short tail, and prominent white eyebrows.

the armature

Whether you use traditional newspaper strips with flour-paste or the PM Clay that I prepared, you have to base your sculpture on a firm armature, in this case balls of newspaper held together with masking tape, plus some cardboard details like beak and wings. Papier-mâché clay is then added like the icing on a cake.

Detail and texture are added with PM clay

Texture and some additional bulk can be build up by applying several layers of the clay - I let it dry in between because it does shrink somewhat. I had added a cardboard mask for the facial features of the owl, but I removed that later.  I used reverse painted glass cabochons for the eyes. I paint those myself and tried out several sizes, going for a slightly large version which seemed most appropriate for an owl. 

I added volume and the texture of feathers to wings and the stubby little tail. .  .

The skin of papier-mâché clay hardens extremely well without becoming brittle. Paper fibers, glue and chalk from joint-compound form something very similar to a strong polymer that can be carved or sanded. A porcelain-like finish can be achieved with additional thin layers of joint-compound. But for my birds and other animals I like the slightly rough appearance that the paper fibers provide. 

  

To give my bird some color, I use Acrylic paint.  But as a watercolor painter, I have my problems with the uncompromising opacity of Acrylic paints.  

Before I tackled the owl, I produced a long series of hummingbirds, using metallic paints over the original coat of opaque colors. I first found the results shocking and nearly tacky. but eventually felt that the metallic accents were breaking up the heavy, dead, acrylic layer in a very pleasant way and certainly appropriate for the brilliance of hummingbird plumage.  

Owls are of course rather camouflaged and cryptic to be able to sleep out in the open during daylight hours. But after painting all those hummingbirds I liked those metallic accents.  The grayish patches on head and back of Elf Owls are brightened by light, nearly golden tips of many contour feathers. So I took the artistic freedom to use little dabs of metallic paint to add those brighter spot. I think it nicely pulls the different areas of plumage together and goes well with those big golden eyes.  If it gives the whole sculpture a little jewel-like appearance, so be it. It's the Elf in my owl.

At this point the legs of the owl were still flexible and unfinished because I still had to chose a base to anchor it to. Right then I got an invitation to submit a piece for the Dia del los muertos exhibit of Tohono Chul Park. 

plastic sculls on bushes in Saguaro National Park 

Some time before, the creosote and palo verde bushes along Picture Rocks Road were suddenly studded with dozens of small plastic skulls. The meaning, if there was one, was unclear. Was it a macabre joke? Was it to commemorate migrant deaths in the desert?  Was it art? Litter? It was clear that the rangers of Saguaro National Park would not tolerate those decorations and remove them quickly. So I stopped and took a couple of them home where they rolled around in a box of found objects that may become part of an art project.

So now the little owl landed on one of them. Was this assemblage a fitting contribution for the exhibit? For me it was just a whim, but I did put it up for discussion to friends and fellow artists. The very numerous responses ranged from enthusiasm and the suggestion to replace the realistic skull with one that would be more in line with stylized Mexican sugar skulls, to philosophical thoughts - here sits the symbol of wisdom on an empty human scull, doubts about cultural appropriation, warnings that pre-Columbian cultures related the owl to very negative aspects of death and witchery, to the rejection of popular culture's fascination with skulls  ... It was quite interesting.  I myself was mostly reminded of the juxtaposition of life and death in the art of my own European culture where the skull has been a common element at least since the renaissance.  But I would not have submitted a piece to an art show that was half made up of a prefabricated plastic object, even though I liked the 'found and recycled' aspect of it.  

For now Elf Owl has landed on the head of my first PM sculpture, the life-sized but cartoonish Bobby Cat. There he is waiting for me to come across the right piece of Cholla wood as a permanent base.

Finally some rain

 Sunday January 24, 2021. Around 9 am dramatic clouds were braking up after a sun-rise gusher had prevented us from our daily morning jog. But we share 'our' state land not only with a heard of cattle but also with a neighbor who walks his 8 pitbull mixes there after breakfast, so we have to stay on schedule. Instead, Chaco and I drove  towards the Salt River Flats to look for Caracaras. I avoided the freeway by winding my way northwest on surface roads. But somehow I got trapped by the lure of Silverbell Rd and the Ironwood Mountains.

 I swung in a big loop  half-ways  around Ragged Top, just fascinated by the ever changing sunlight and cloud shadows on its slopes. 

 There was friendly sunshine, mysterious shadows, threatening low hanging clouds. There were scary looking groups of armed guys in fatigues congregating in some parking areas. There was a lone naturalist watching the light butts of bighorn sheep high on the mountain. 

Saguaros' ghostly shapes looming out of the mist. Many Palo Verdes brutally ripped up by a dirt road widening project. Naked pale roots snaking over black volcanic pumice rocks. I considered if they would be interesting in an art project? How would they age? 

Eventually, a road fork offered to turn north east towards Redrock, my original destination. By now I entered a much flatter landscape. After some more miles  a flooded wash. The water was clear and not moving much. Turning back would have taken lots of bad road in worsening weather. So I crossed it, relying on my Subaru's high clearance. It was much deeper than I had expected, but I made it. Startled a Great Egret. 

Soon Picacho Peak became visible - sort of. It was just a darker shape floating in a dark-gray mass of clouds. No weather for bird watching. I passed the large cattle yard where blackbirds, yellow-headed and red-winged, usually feed by the thousands. But not in this stormy weather. Only a few Grackles on the phoneline and a couple of ravens in the field. A single Turkey Vulture with its v-shaped profile. So they are drifting back north. 

 I headed for the freeway and took it back to Marana.  Along Marana Rd, between puddles and irrigation ditches of empty cotton fields, a band of medium sized wading birds were spooked by an elegant, long winged black and white raptor: a Grey Ghost (Male northern Harrier). By the time I had stopped the car and got my binoculars up, the sky was empty again.