Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Two rare Enoclerus species from Arizona


 Clerids in the genus Enoclerus are among my favorite beetles. They are fuzzy and colorful and they move around in fast little burst of high speed, resembling very much the Velvet Ants that they mimic.

Enoclerus quadrisignatus
 At our house we usually find the rather large Enoclerus quadrisignatus. I seem to remember seeing them nearly all year round, but my photos are all taken from May to July.


The drab Enoclerus moestus can be found on freshly dead pine in early summer at high elevations of the sky islands. It hunts for insects that come to lay their eggs in the wood. 


Enoclerus bimaculatus and E. luscus often appear at the black light in upper Madera Canyon. Dried specimens of E.bimaculatus have strikingly pink markings, but on  the living beetles they are ivory colored.


Both color morphs of Enoclerus laetus can be seen together on blooming Baccharis in autumn. While larvae and adult beetles of the genus Enoclerus usually feed on other insects, some of them also like protein rich pollen.

With 36 species north of Mexico, Enoclerus is the species richest genus of the family Cleridae in the US. While the genus ranges across the entire American continent, most species occur further south in Central and South America and it is assumed that their phylogenetic origin is located there.

Even though the beetles are small and quickly fly when disturbed, I have found and photographed several more species here in Arizona. Twice I have been extraordinary lucky: In 2009 I 'rediscovered' Enoclerus decussatus in Sycamore Canyon at my black light.

Enoclerus decussatus

 Clerid expert Jacques Rifkind said via email:
The bug you have there is very interesting--I've never seen anything like it in the U.S! I suspect it is a dark morph (with reduced markings) of the Mexican species Enoclerus decussatus. I have seen a similar color pattern in specimens from Mexico (there is one pictured on page 2 of my site). However, Enoclerus decussatus has not, as far as I know, been recorded from Sonora, which makes this a very unusual distributional record. In any case, it's hard to be sure of the identification without having the beetle in hand. I'd be very interested in examining this specimen if it is available. You possibly have a new species, but at the very least, you have the first U.S. record for a described Mexican species--a record that generates intriguing questions that only further collecting will be able to answer.
When I then sent him the specimen, he wrote: Your beetle arrived safely today. It is indeed Enoclerus decussatus (Klug). I looked into the literature, and it seems that Horn made a note in 1885 about a darkened specimen collected in Arizona. More recent checklists assumed this was an incorrect record, and the species hasn't been considered part of the US fauna since Corporaal's 1950s catalogue. So, you may have collected the first specimen of this in AZ since the late 19th century! And so it is now officially part of the US fauna. I will get a note out on the record soon." This record was then  published in the Pan-Pacific Entomologist. 
Enoclerus hoegei
 Last week in Madera Canyon I saw another little beauty running up and down on the branches of a Baccharis that was visited by a great number of different beetle and wasp species because it was oozing tree sap. 
Again, I couldn't find any record in BugGuide, so the photo was dispatched to Jaques. He answered: "That is Enoclerus hoegei -- a primarily Mexican sp. that has turned up (rarely) in Sabino Cyn, but never as far as I know in Madera Cyn. Barr considered it a new sp. but IMHO it's just variable-- as would be expected of something that ranges from AZ to Honduras. Tell Margarethe 'good job' again."





Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Insects of the Button Bush

Two weeks ago my friend Ned Harris alerted me that the Button Bushes in Sabino Canyon were blooming. That meant photo opportunities par excellence for all kinds of nectaring insects.

Button Bush, Cephalanthus occidentalis, in Sabino Canyon
Button Bush or Button Willow, Cephalanthus occidentalis, in the family Rubiaceae, can be found in all states east of the Rockies, but only in Arizona and California in the West. The perennial shrub has a high water use, so it grows along  Sabino Canyon Creek that is finally running again. I have yet to find it elsewhere.  Button Bush may like locations higher on the rocky bank than my other favorite insect bush the Seep Willow Baccharis salicifolia that is much more common and grows within sandy creek beds where it hangs on during floods and thrives on the nutrients that the water leaves behind.


Ned Harris in a field of Datura that's also in full bloom in Sabino Canyon
On Sept. 4, I joined Ned on one of his photo excursions and I was amazed how much the bushes had grown over the last three years.  So much so that a lot of insects were out of reach for my macro lens and I am relying on Ned who is taller and has a longer lens for most of this blog's images. Just kidding, Ned's photos are just way better than mine.


left: Carpenter bees: Xylocopa  tabaniformis, and californica Photo N. Harris. right: Sonoran Bumblebee Bombus sonorus
 
Even though we ignored the honey bees, we found plenty of native bees and bumblebees who shared the nectar with all kinds of big wasps. 

Top:  Pepsis grossa and another Tarantula Hawk
Below: Campsomeris tolteca, Prionyx sp, Polistes flavus
Very large Tarantula Hawks, Pepsis grossa, appeared in two color forms: Orange-winged (xanthic) and black-winged (melanic). The two color forms are not often seen in the same locality, but the black one was too large to be the similar P. mexicana. The scoliid Campsomeris tolteca and the sphecid Prionyx were also among the giants of their families.


Top: Gulf Fritillary, Queen, Monarch
Middle: Painted Lady, Bordered Patch, Arizona Metalmark
 Bottom: Black Swallowtail, Southern Dogface, Acacia Skipper
most photos Ned Harris 
Ned uses a long lens that isn't a dedicated macro, so he concentrates mostly on insects above 1 in body length, and so of course he loves all butterflies. We found everything from big Brush-foots (Nymphalidae) and Swallowtails (Papilionidae) to Sulfurs (Pieridae), Metalmarks (Riodinidae) and Skippers (Hesperiidae).

Pipevine Swallowtail by Ned Harris
My favorites are without doubt our very common Pipevine Swallowtail. These butterflies hardly ever sit still but keep flapping their wings because the slim buttonbush branches can hardly support their weight.  Much rarer is the similar Black Swallowtail but Ned got the nice shot in the group collage above.

White-lined Sphinx by Ned Harris
The White-lined Sphinx solves the weight problem by not landing at all but hovering over the flowers while nectaring. Because of this ability several moth species in the family Sphingidae have earned the common name 'Hummingbird Moth'.


Strigoderma pimalis and Cotinis mutabilis (Green June Bug or Fig Beetle)
Disappointingly few beetles showed up. I had expected a few sugar-loving cerambycids, but we found only two species of scarabs. But it was a blustery, overcast day and flying and cold starts in particular are much more costly for a beetle than for a butterfly with its much greater wing area.


Mexican Amberwing, Yellow-bellied Bee Assassin, Green Lynx spider
As usual in high traffic areas, there was a number of ambush predators. Dragonflies  kept an overview from an elevated perch, whereas spiders and assassin bugs were lurking in the foliage and even on the flowers.

The Buttonbushes of Sabino Canyon are definitely worth a yearly visit, even though they bloom in the hottest, muggiest time of the year. It's rare that I'm not envious of Ned's long lens and high performance camera, but this time I was quite happy to carry only my point-and-shoot and small binoculars, especially as I could count on Ned's generosity to share his photos!















 

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Real time protocol of a scorpion sting

Today's not my day. Among the things that went wrong were the broken dog fence (Randy's problem but I feel for him), a Prairie Falcon that sent me racing for binoculars and then took off just as I got them, and then I got nailed by something.
I had let some black cloth dry over night on the wall along the driveway. When I picked it up I first thought it had given me and electric shock. It's often so dry here that static accumulates and one can get hit quite unpleasantly by those discharges. But this was way to strong a sensation and then also began to hurt a little like a bee sting. Since it was on my finger, my first reaction was to try and suck out whatever had been injected.

 Hoffmannius confusus (Stahnke 1940)
By then I knew that I hadn't felt anything quite like this before, so I began to carefully search the cloth. Sure enough, a scorpion was still hiding among the folds. Good that I brought my camera to shoot the falcon: now I took some booking portraits of my assailant.  He actually got away because I had no container. Next I posted the photos to the fb page of my friend and scorpion authority Warren Savary. If it turns out to be a scorpion sp. with a deadly poison - there aren't any described for Arizona, so it would be new to science - at least there will be proper documentation.
The pain is completely gone by now, but I can't quite decide whether my left hand is tingling or numb. Maybe both. All over I'm feeling a little shaky and like a migraine is coming on.
My lips and tongue are feeling like I'd be getting over local anesthesia from a dental appointment (good reminder - get a check-up before the art season starts and I get too busy!) And of course now I don't know whether this is a systemic reaction or if I brought that upon myself by sucking the stuff out.


But now, after half an hour, the tingling numbness has reached my right hand, so I'd say it is systemic. I'm slightly nauseated and beginning to sweat but my heart rate is a normal resting 78 per minute. The initial adrenalin boost has definitely worn off by now.
45 minutes after the sting I'm feeling quite normal again, only my lower lip is still numb. But then  Randy wants me to read some very garbled text that he has to edit. It's written by a not-English-speaking scientist (no me!) in English, and after reading I go right back to feeling confused, disoriented and nauseated. But I don't think the scorpion has anything to do with it. Poor Randy. He'll spend all day with those 30 pages.
I have to admit, 2 h after the sting I now have a slight headache an hot flashes. Hm. Need a control experiment volunteer (a group, actually) and better air conditioning.  
I took an aspirin and a half hour nap and woke up feeling completely normal.  
Warren identified the scorpion as one of our larger, most harmless species Hoffmannius confusus.

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Hiding behind your Worst Enemy

Many species that are pursued by predators pretend to be what they are not to protect themselves. They may mimic toxic, dangerous or noxious tasting models or they may just become invisible sporting cryptic patterns that blend into the background.

Eye spots of moths and butterflies that are revealed with a sudden flick of the wings are widely accepted as a signal to scare or confuse predators. If you have ever seen the up-side down stance of an Eyed Silkmoth that feels threatened you can easily imagine that a hungry bird might be scared away from this fat clumsy morsel that suddenly resembles a cat or an owl. And maybe the scare even works as a defense against the attack of a lizard?

Antheraea oculea (Western Polyphemus Moth)
Most reptiles are predators of insects - the diet of many lizards consists entirely of arthropods and even baby alligators often grow on the proteins of grasshoppers and moths until they are big enough to hunt other prey.

But this isn't where the relationship ends. Evolution has linked insects and reptiles through more than just the food chain.


Papilio rutulus (Western Tiger Swallowtail) caterpillar

Observe the spots on the bloated body of the Western Swallowtail caterpillar: to my eye they not only distract from the real head that remains tucked down and hidden, they also seems to suggest the face of a snake.


Elephant Hawkmoth, Deilephila elpenor by Amy MacDonald
The resemblance to a snake seems even more impressive in the caterpillar of the Elephant Hawkmoth because it is longer, bigger and adds a cobra-like threatening posture to the mere looks of a serpent.
When my friend Alex Pelzer was working on his Ph.D. using these moths as his model, we tried to test whether birds are indeed afraid of the snake mimic. At the time, I had a young tame Jackdaw (small corvid). When offered the big writhing worm the bird seemed confused, but then attacked the caterpillar and tried to eat it.

My trusting friend Jakob the Jackdaw






































So instinctive aversion? Not really.
But: the jackdaw was young, hand-raised and inexperienced. Like young wolves, chimpanzees, and humans, the highly social and intelligent corvids are born with very little instinct. Instead, they have a great capacity for learning. In fact, this young bird looked to me for approval of any new food it found, and it would try to eat everything I offered. So he wasn't a good test animal at all, we should have tried something more precocious, like a young chicken. We just all had a lot to learn.


Macacha (Fulgora laternaria) by Leonel Baldoni
In the rainforests of central and South America lives an insect in the family of the Fulgorid Planthoppers that looks even more like a reptile than our caterpillars, at least in photos where you have no size comparison.
My friend Lois O'Brien is an expert of the group Fulgoromorpha. She writes:

"Fulgora, the lantern fly or peanut bug, has a head that looks like a peanut from above. But from the side, the head looks like an alligator head, complete with false eyes and false nostrils ...and a big mouth full of false teeth." 
To humans this planthopper looks so dangerous that there is a widespread legend that its bite kills within 24 h - the only antidote being to have sex before that time runs out. O'Brien speculates whether the 'alligator mimicry' targets birds, reptiles or monkeys, even humans, and wonders about the size difference between model and imitator. As baby alligators are quite small and quite ferocious hunters (and often under the fierce protection of their really terrifying mother), the size difference bothers me less than the difference in habitat between presumed model and mimic. But birds and monkeys get around ... and maybe they are wary enough of alligators to carry the image in their memory wherever they go.
Fulgora laternaria from Cuvier's La Regne Animal
Or maybe the mimicry model isn't an alligator but just another reptile like a lizard. In any event, the similarity seems just too suggestive to be without any function at all.
But if all else fails, Fulgora can still flash two big eye-spots at the attacker as well.


Chrysalis of Dynastor darius stygianus (photo V. Izerskyy)
 Here is another striking tropical example posted by Vladimir Izerskyy on facebook. It's the pupa of Dynastor darius stygianus which seems to be mimicking  the head of a Boa constrictor peruvianus. Dynastor darius stygianus is found in Peru, for example in Coviriali, Satipo, Peru. Clearly, the  pupa needs protection even more than any mobile form of insect, but we are more used to camouflage as the means of survival of pupas.

We found another unexpected reptile imitator closer to home:
After the black-lighting session of the last 'Infestation Party' at Pat Sullivan's house in Ramsey Canyon, Arizona, there were a lot of entomologists as well as left-over moths still hanging around in the early morning hours. The humans were congregating outside with cups of strong coffee and plates of Schwarzwaelder Kirschtorte (great way to wake up!).

Do you see the snake lurking?
At one point I bent down to take a photo of something low in the vegetation at our feet, when I heard Charlie O'Brien's warning 'Careful, there's a snake under those leaves'. And indeed, there was the eye, the shiny nose, the bigger ventral scales and the curved body of a snake - cartoonishly overdrawn but very convincing from the right angle.

But - overemphasized detail aside - I had had my morning coffee already! - so to me it was just a sleepy moth, a beautiful Glover's Silkmoth.

Glover's Silkmoth (Hyalophora columbia gloveri)

Literature: The Wild Wonderful World of Fulgoromorpha, L. O'Brien, Denisia 04, zugleich Kataloge des OOe. Landesmuseums, Neue folge Nr. 176 (2002) pp 83-102


Monday, August 26, 2013

Moth Night at the BTA: Two snakes that stole the show

Marceline Vandewater invited me to give a talk about insects and a black-light presentation at the Boyce Thompson Arboretum (BTA) in Superior, AZ. Macro-photographer Paul Landau opened the program with a show of his beautiful insect photos. The attendance was such that only half of the crowd could fit into the lecture room at a time.


The weather for the event couldn't have been better: warm and muggy, the moon hiding behind the clouds. The BTA is an oasis in a desert canyon at about 2400 feet elevation. This is a very old and established park, one of the oldest west of the Mississippi, and its trees are huge. Many of them are imports from Australia, though, and I was curious how that would impact the insect fauna. As it turned out, there was one Eucalyptus Leafbeetle, but the other insects were surprisingly similar to what I find at my own house in the foothills of the Tucson Mountains. The same group of moths and beetles, katydids,  antlions, mantispids, mantids and spiders. (you can click here to see the whole collection of my photos on Flickr)
Terry Stone took a video - I hope this will link to it.


Chilomeniscus stramineus, Variable Sandsnake
But for me, the greatest finds were not insects but two beautiful snakes that were found close to the black light. I only saw them after they were already captured, so my photos are not of the 'in situ' kind that I like best. The snakes were actually rather agitated and trying to escape.... But both species were 'lifers' for me, at least in the wild.

Micruroides euryxanthus, Sonoran Coralsnake
The stout little Sandsnake was a great find, but the Coralsnake was even better. I can see why kids would be found playing with this  dangerous little beauty. It may have the poison of a cobra, but it has the charm of living jewelry. We did handle it carefully to keep it in photo range. It did not even threaten to bite.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Many Ways to Shoot a Rattler

There is of course the way our former neighbor chose: with his .22.
When I commented: "too bad that you are so afraid of them" He replied - "Oh, I'm fine with snakes, they take care of the darn packrats - but you know, the wife..."
No photos of those calamities here, for sure.


But some of my own older photos also bug me in hindsight: they show the snake in an impressive pose, reminding of a cobra ready to strike. The one above I have used over and over. Those photos portray our Western Diamondback as something he really isn't: aggressive and dangerous.

Frodo and Tana barking from the right, Cody and Bilbo (not visible) from the left, Leika, the wolf, is to smart to get involved 
In fact it took four dogs barking their hearts out and me with my snake stick (and terrified for the dogs) to make him that angry. I'm happy to say that it is an old picture.


Our male dogs' hysterical reaction to snakes forces us to capture and move some snakes that make a straight line for the row of dog beds on our patio. I used to take pictures - hoping to use them for identification of repeat appearances. Even with more reliable methods (paint marks on the base of the rattle) we found very few. Experienced herpers tell me that snakes have a strong aversion to human smell and remember and avoid locations of traumatic experiences. I still believe that moving them about 500 m north simply offsets the route of their annual east west migration across our property enough to make them miss the patio. Anyway, those pics are purely utilitarian.

Tiger Rattlesnake wrangled into photogenic loops
There is a type of esthetic, well composed pictures appearing in all kinds of publications: The snake is looped decoratively in a natural setting, and since snakes have no discernible facial expression for grumpiness the pictures look fine at the first glance. The snake's pose tells me that an expert snake wrangler was involved. By now I have witnessed that kind of 'gentle directing' too often to appreciate the results any more than 'natural background' pictures of insects that are posed on a green leaf held by a clasp on a tripod or placed on a nice neutral rock in perfect light: they may be more pleasing than bugs on a dirty white black lighting sheet, but they are hardly more natural (a little deceiving sometimes, though).


There are very good photos taken in displays terraria where snakes have been kept successfully for years. These exhibits do a great service by safely introducing the public to the beauty of snake and hopefully convince the visitors that the reptiles are worth their respect and protection. The photos portray usually calm, content snakes as well as the artistry of the terrarium designer but there should be no pretense that we are seeing a natural setting.

By far my favorites are the photos of undisturbed snakes in their natural habitat (or what the snakes claim as their habitat, like nice cool patios). They are sometimes awkward because of the snake's elongate body shape and they often have to be shot through shrubbery and brush. But they provide information beyond just the fact that a certain snake species was seen by the photographer. They tell of the snake's behavior and preferences and of the photographer's patients and observation skills - and often  - luck.

A resting Diamondback that I found because a covey of quail kept pointing at him 
Different from mammals and birds, snakes are heterotherm: Their body temperature depends on the temperature of the environment and they have only behavioral means to regulate it. For rattlers in Arizona this means to be mostly hidden and inactive in winter, day active in spring and fall and night active during the hottest time of the year.

This one rested at night close to my black light. I passed him again and again before he gave  his rattle a warning little shake that I first mistook for the call of a Desert Clicker Grasshopper. Notice the dilated pupils.
Cool desert nights are spent tightly curled and snuggled into the warm sand. The snakes keep such a low profile and lay so quietly that I usually discover them after stepping over them or when watchful quail coveys betray them in the early morning. Check out the pupil in the night time photo: it's dilated like our own in the dark.

A Mojave Rattler on the 'south forty' of our property - we left her there with some trepidation because she seemed ready to soon produce more little Mojaves with possible neurotoxin loads
In the morning the snakes stretch out under the first warming rays of the sun. Not having a breast bone, they are able to spread their ribs and flatten their bodies to expose as large a surface area as possible.
In this position the are less photogenic, but the shot shows that the photographer didn't disturb the snake's normal behavior.

Bathing rattler, Photo by Jimmi S.
Of course it can also be too warm here in Arizona, and most snakes seem to cool off in the shade or even under ground. But if you have birdbaths or flat ponds around, you can also observe another thermoregulatiory behavior: the dip in the pool. I see Gopher Snakes do this more often than rattlers.

Christopher James Vincent's photo of Cartman, a Western Diamondback Rattler swallowing a Mourning Dove
Undisturbed snakes provide many great photo opportunities: My friend CJ Vincent made his 3 acre property in between Tucson and Catalina into a beautiful nature preserve (WOW Arizona! open to the public by appointment). He is so comfortable (and on a first name basis) with the local resident rattlers that he can observe them hunting and feeding.


This photo of competing male rattlers was posted years ago to the photo gallery of the AZ Star. I down loaded it to my computer long before I started posting on the internet, writing a blog or thinking much about copyright. So if you should be the photographer - I went through the whole wildlife section of the gallery without finding your name - please contact me!

Rattlers mating by Axel Elfner
Sometimes a well chosen detail is more impressive or informative than a full body shot.

Portrait by Margie Wrye
And then there are the shots that aren't so great, but they come with a personal story dripping with emotion or in this case adrenaline: Last month I was giving a talk at Southwest Wings about Sphinx Moths' attraction to Datura flowers. So at night at Pat Sullivan's place in Ramsey Canyon I was sitting next to a beautifully blooming Datura plant to shoot some last photos. I heard a 'swishhh' and saw the brown and yellow pattern of a snake gliding through the grass very close to my thigh. I had been playing with a huge tame Gopher Snake that afternoon. This snake seemed as long and had similar colors - making me think that this was a Gopher as well. So I kept shooting my moths and actually talked to the snake (hey, we were both lonely and no one could hear us). I nearly reached out to touch it.

Black-tail Rattler (35 mm lens, uncropped)
The snake's head rose above the grass like a telescope, looked at me, then pointed into the Datura, withdrew, came back into view...and suddenly appeared awfully big and triangular...not a Gopher, but an unusually long Black-Tail Rattlesnake. Since I was weighed  down by two cameras, collecting pack and flash light, there was no way to scramble away quietly. So I stayed and instead took some pictures that suffered somewhat from being too close.

And then of course there are all the shots that I missed because I had no camera at hand: the one and only Tiger Rattle Snake in our back yard, the one time we saw a Diamondback swallow a Sonoran Desert Toad, the time when our Husky Tana seemed mesmerized by dancing male Rattlers in Tucson Mountain Park...

Those are always the best ones - in my mind at least.

Painted rock by me
And who says that they have to be photographs, anyway? This painted rock once made a woman leave my art booth: 'I know it's not real but I can't stand to be near it'. Can't please them all. It sold for a good price to someone else.

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Where Nuns meet Witches

 Mantispid Climaciella brunnea
Some Batesian mimicry works well on me. Whenever I see a harmless (to me) mantispid in the exact colors of our most common paper wasp Polistes comanchus I am instictively careful of a powerful stinger - which the mantispid, a relative of ant lions,  just doesn't carry.

Climaciella brunnea and Polistes comanchus
On Tuesday I took Caroline and Martin, two young German scientists, into the field to look for this paper wasp mimic, the Mantispid Climaciella brunnea. I had found one last week in Madera Canyon on Desert Broom during the day, but Peppersauce Canyon on the north side of the Catalina Mountains (Pinal County, Arizona) is the only place where I knew them to show up reliably at the black light.

1 and 2 Climaciella brunnea, 3 Plega sp., 4 Mantispa sp., 5 Ant Lion  Brachynemurus sp, 6  Owlfly  Ululodes sp.

We  really got one single specimen, but at least it was a different color morph than the one from Madera Canyon.  We also got many more interesting Neuropterans - other mantispids like Plega and Mantispa and many ant lions and an owlfly.

Hyalophora columbia gloveri (Glover's Silkmoth),  Eupackardia calleta  (Calleta Silkmoth )
Strategus aloeus (Ox Beetle), Dynastes granti (Hercules Beetle)  
Peppersauce Canyon is one of my favorite collecting places and it lived up to my expectations. There were no other people except one Jeep driver slowly negotiating the rocky road, but lots of impressive insects.


But as the night went on the sheet completely filled up with moths. Mostly hundreds of small Twirler Moths and the Tigermoth Virbia ostenta and too many blister beetles in the genus Epicauta. (they got Martin's ankle)


Caroline and Martine braved the onslaught and coughed through a mist of dislodged moth scales, but I left to rather investigate the surroundings.


There is an old oak tree in a clearing that is bleeding sweet fermenting juice from many scars. When we first arrived we saw so many yellow jackets on the bark that Caroline mistook the location for a nest entrance. Now the still warm night air seemed loaded with the heavy yeasty fragrance of a brewery. Ants, beetles, moths and roaches were competing for room at the source of the fermenting juice. Big longhorn beetles rustling and chewing, click beetles pushing their way in, carpenter ants forcing ants of a smaller more agile species out of the way.
Even small, delicate moths claimed their spots against the sturdier beetles, their eye-shine eerily flashing back to my head light.
 
 Catocala perhaps delilah (Underwing Moth) and  Enaphalodes hispicornis (Oak Borer)
After a while a larger Underwing moth joined the feast. During the day these moths sleep on the bark of trees where they are extremely hard to spot due to their camouflage pattern. While fighting for its place at the seeping tree juice the moth showed its colors, aggressively flashing its wings at beetles and roaches.

Black Witch, Ascalapha odorata 
Then a huge dark shadow interrupted the beam of my flashlight. I thought a bat was swooping in to grab one of the intoxicated insects that showed neither fear nor caution. But the shadow descended - landed - and turned out to be a moth as well: a huge Black Witch. It was much larger than the big silk moths that we'd seen earlier. It's wingspan exceeded the length of my hand which is 6.5 inches.

Black Witch, Ascalapha odorata 
This witch was very tattered and old - telling a story of narrow escapes from bats and birds and survived monsoon storms. These moths were long believed to be all border crossers from Mexico, but by now freshly emerged specimens are found far north of the border, proving that many Black Witches are legal -  born US citizens.

(A word to explain 'Nuns' of the title: when I was a kid in Germany, we called Underwing Moths 'Nonne' - 'nun' in English - though the official name for the genus is Ordensband (after the colorful sash worn by ordained Catholics).



I think my friends from Berlin were as happy with their mantispid catch as I with my observations in the dark and mysterious forest.