Reduvidae Revisited, Renardii

In the age old quest for taxonomic perfection, the identification of a certain assassin bug has been a recurring theme here on Am I Bugging You Yet. In the beginning I felt good to know it was an assassin bug, a member of the Reduvidae family of assassin bugs. But knowledge is power, and realizing there was much more to know, I wanted to find out which species, or at least genus my particular bug belongs in. One tripping point I've found to insect ID to species is the variability of gross morphology or coloration within some species; another is superficial similarities between related species; and a dearth of good information on juvenile stages of lots of species.

In March 2007 I was able to be convinced that the adult assassins I find lurking in the lantana and Queen Anne's lace are Zelus renardii, the leafhopper assassin bug. This was the result of an ID update on Natural History of OC that labeled a photo looking exactly like my bugs as the species. But, no photos of juvenile z. renardii were posted. Bugguide also lacks photos of young assassins for the most part. There was a photo under genus Pselliopis of a young one with banded legs (the only genus description that mentions banded legs by the way), but the adults look nothing like the adults I know. Believing in my heart that the juveniles I have grow into the adults I have, I have continued looking, re-inspired by the emergence of this year's crop of stripey limbed juveniles. Finally, at UC IPM I found in the lower right frame of this page, a juvenile that looks like mine. Hmmm, however the UC IPM folks do not positively identify that one as Z. renardii. IGnatz! I looked for photos of young of the other assassin species pictured, Sinea diadema, and they look nothing like the juvenile in the lower right photo. So by process of twisted logic and eliminated information, I conclude that the banded-legged juvenile assassins pictured here on AIBYY are indeed Zelus renardii.

Unless anyone has information to the contrary.

Anyway, the young assassins are in evidence all over the garden now, doing their part to eat other bugs.

Some Other Pollinators

Whoa, almost missed Pollinator Week 2008; visit the Pollinator Partnership to learn more about pollination, pollinators, and to avoid missing out on next year's festivities.

It's a good time to pay homage to the insects that make seeds and fruits possible, with the sun high in the sky and loads of flowers blooming. The pollinators don't do it on purpose, nor do they have any altruistic sense of feeding the world of humanity as a result of their labors. They just happen to pick up grains of pollen on their bodies as they go from flower to flower and so accomplish what the stationary flowers alone don't do so well: cross fertilization.

Notes on a couple of local pollinators:

I noticed a swarm of small wasps working the limonium latifolium blossoms. Wasps are less efficient pollinators generally because their smooth bodies don't pick up pollen grains like a hairy bee's will. Still, some pollination does occur as the wasps take nectar. I wonder why these wasps don't work the limonium perezii or the statice (l. sinuata), plants of the same genus growing in close proximity. The wasps are small (8 to 10 mm, not counting the antennae) so maybe they are able to dominate the smaller blossoms of l. latifolium over other species of pollinators, making it something of an exclusive territory. As best I can figure, these wasps are in the subfamily Philanthinae, which includes several genera of so-called solitary, ground-nesting wasps. Chances are good that wherever their nests are, they are clustered near to one another (think sand wasps in the playground) forming a kind of community of solitary individuals. Apparently they also forage together as there are at least 20 or so of them on the plant at any one time once the sun is well up.

The leaf cutter bees (Megachile sp) are working the cinnamon basil again this year, and like the wasps + the limonium, they seem to prefer an exclusive relationship with this plant. I rarely see them nectaring anywhere else and I always see them on the basil as soon as the day is quite warm. They are quick little buggers and so here is a now you seem 'em, now you don't sequence.

Earlier in the year I signed up to participate in the Great Sunflower Project this year--a great idea of collecting pollinator data all using the same pollen source: Helianthus annuus, wild annual sunflower. After two tries to grow them, I could not get the damned seeds to germinate. Since I consider myself quite the gardener, I found this disturbing. Anyway, check out their website for other people's data across the country.

Leaf Day X4

When you're a bug, everyday is leaf day. If they aren't eating the leaf, they are looking to eat something that is eating it, or as in the case of the crane fly might be just hanging out. Some bugs and their leaves for your consideration this Friday:

1. Tiger crane fly, genus Nephrotoma, lounging as only a crane fly can on a white iceberg rose leaf.



2. Peucetia viridans, green lynx spiderling on fuzzy Abutilon palmeri (Indian mallow) leaf.



3. Scudderia furcata, Forktailed bush katydid nymph on pelargonium cordifolium leaf. Please note chewed hole in center of the more-or-less heart-shaped leaf.

4. Spotless ladybird beetle, Cycloneda sanguinea, hunkering down amid the unfurling leaves at Solanum melongena leader.

Seeds for the Seed bugs, Leaves for the 'Pillars

And wine for the woman who makes the rain come? Well, I do turn the sprinklers on every 1/2 a moon . . .

The theory goes (doesn't it?) if you don't allow seeds to ripen, your plants will continue to bloom longer. So for the sake of keeping up appearances I've been trying to trim off the milkweed seedpods as they fatten on the parkway plants. At the same time I tip the stems back to encourage more branching of the plants. So far so good, except as summer progresses the pods are ripening literally faster than I have time to trim them.

A complication any time you manage an insect resource plant is to balance the need to avoid disruption to the breeding, feeding or pupating insect population with your necessary aesthetic. Milkweed is the sole food plant for monarch larvae. There was some egg laying activity in May, so for awhile I did no trimming but monitored the plants. I didn't see any caterpillars, so I resumed trimming after carefully checking for eggs or 'pillars. In the past couple days more egg-laying butterflies have been visiting. I will now stop trimming, let the seed pods ripen and split, then clean up the plants in a month or so depending on how the caterpillars (if any) are progressing and the level of complaints from the neighbors and garden police. One might wonder why I planted milkweed in a high visibility area if I prioritize keeping up appearances. Bingo!

Meanwhile, the milkweed bugs (Lygaeus kalmii) have maintained their population among the seeds that get away from the gardener.

The bug poised on the leaf tip was stroking its beak with its two front legs in what seemed like a cleaning motion; maybe removing the sticky milkweed residue?

Early Summer-sized Orb Weaver

This small orb weaver spider is among the first of the year, found suspended in its beautifully constructed miniature web between the pittosporum and the crassula. I believe the species is Neoscoma oaxacensis, based on last year's fully-growns and the general appearance of this tiny (about 1/4" or so) thing.

Here is another view of the same spider waiting on a pittosporum leaf for its next victim to shake the web and send vibrations down the silk lines to the tarsa barely touching them.

The 7th duskywing

This funereal duskywing (Erynnis funeralis) is in the Hesperiidae family of butterflies, making it a skipper. Skippers of all types tend to fly in very quick spurts making them a bit difficult to photograph; I was happy to get these pictures finally as I've been seeing dark dartings in the corner of my eye for at least a month now. Duskywings (genus Erynnis) all have drabbish brown mottled wings and look very much alike. The funereal's bright white margin on the hind wings helps distinguish it, as well as taking into account its relative abundance within its known range where it was found. Species of Duskywings sport some whimsical common names such as Sleepy, Dreamy, Dingy, Mournful, Mottled and Grizzled, not to mention the ever-colorful Funereal, making them the next-best thing to the 7 dwarfs.

The larvae of E. funeralis feed on legumes; in southern California this is often deerweed, Lotus scoparius, which resembles those scruffy shrubs called brooms that used to be more common in gardens. I wonder if the butterflies use these shrubs (cytisus or genista) for larval food plants in the city. I haven't seen larvae of the species yet; the leguminous plants we grow are acacias, sennas and lately caesalpinia, none of which are listed as larval food plants.

The flower in these photos is Gaillardia aristata "Oranges & Lemons", a very good performer in my garden in a full sunny spot requiring moderate to little water.

Summer Solstice

The sun creeps snail-like
to its bright summit; maybe
I should estivate?

Yet Another Hollyhock Pest

The yellow hollyhocks are less vigorous and more prone to insect attack than the pink or red. Case in point: many of the yellow buds are infested by this caterpillar or grub (jury still out though it looks more grub-like to me) while the other color flowers show no sign of it. I can pick out the buggy buds by the frass piles on the outside. Dissect the bud to find a smallish, cream colored larva with a darker brown head capsule. Cannot be, I refuse to believe this is the larva of the hollyhock weevil because the adults are so much smaller than this. And, it looks nothing like tobacco budworm which would be a likely suspect.

Salmon, pelargoniums and the Spread of Ich

I was reading a sad story in the LA Times today about salmon fisherpeople in Alaska and the trouble with ich. It seems the parasite Ichthyophonus hoferi has spread into the wild salmon population, infecting many of the fish and rendering them inedible or dead, due to the warming of the river water where the salmon spawn. You probably are familiar with this disease--known as Ich--if you've ever had aquarium fish. It seems to be a classic case of the spread of an organism into its prime niche as climate change is suspected of warming waters further north. In a similar way we in southern California find insect pests that used to be discouraged by our sorta cold winters and occasional frosts surviving the winter and building up harmful population levels. A great example of this was the spread of giant whitefly from Mexico through southern California from 1992 on. In fact, the population of giant whitefly has settled down to manageable levels for the most part as natural predators have adapted to use them as a resource (e.g. eat them); but for some they are still the scourge of hibiscus.

I noticed this helicoverpa caterpillar on the salmon-colored geranium, two years to the day from this post. Hardly significant since corn earworms can be found at many times during the year on this particular plant. Some people doubt the value of amateur observations of natural science since we, as amateurs, mostly aren't formally trained and might make a bad (or worse--redundant!) identification or observation of behavior. On the other hand, we have eyes in places where no professional naturalists are and might find something important. The Times story reports that back in the late 1980s a fisherman noticed something odd about the salmon and sent samples to be tested. He was brushed off. It wasn't until 2000 that any serious research started. Today, they are testing theories as to the extent of the disease and its effect on the salmon populations, and whether anything can be done to lessen the damage. Maybe if that fisherman had been taken seriously, or if there was a mechanism for observations of that sort to be disseminated to the scientific community, it wouldn't take 2 decades for meaningful research to happen.

I still don't like these salmon flowers, and I've never enjoyed eating salmon but I do think citizen science is good.

Foliage

I don't or haven't yet gone in for indoor or tropical plants much. But in my professional capacity I can't afford to harbor horticultural prejudices or parochialism since people do like a wide variety of plants and motifs. In reality there are few cultivated plants I can say I would nix from a planting scenario without at least a perfunctory hearing. Pampas grass. Ficus nitida other than 'Green gem'. Those little grafted cactus thingies sold at Thrifty Drug.

So I found myself at a local vendor seeking sources, information and images of indoor plants for a client. At this place there is a large barn filled nearly to the rafters with metal racks full of what they call in the trade "foliage". Foliage is (are?) mostly tropical species grown indoors or, in very mild climates like southern CA, out whose main feature is their green, variegated, multi-colored, twining, shiny, feathery, translucent, spiky, and otherwise interesting leaves.

In the case of dieffenbachia, add poisonous to the list of foliage attributes. Dumb cane, as it's called commonly, contains calcium oxalate crystals in its tissue which if consumed cause an alarming reaction with the consumer's mouth and throat. Swelling of the walls of the esophagus can close off the throat resulting in disaster. It's good to be aware of this quality since your pets, including reptiles and birds can be harmed by eating the plant; on the other hand the list of potentially poisonous plants is long (here's one for reptiles), and it turns out most or all of the plants in the aroid sub-family of which dieffenbachia is member contain calcium oxalate. An interesting side note is that this substance is the same stuff that kidney stones are most commonly made of, when oxalic acid precipitates calcium in the digestive system that then accumulates in the kidney (wiki). At least some insects (aphids, scale, mealybugs) along with spider mites are untroubled by the plant's chemical defenses as these buggies are among the cultural challenges of dieffenbachia growers.

Anyway, I was looking and not eating and thought these big dumb cane leaves were quite pretty glowing in the skylight against the old wood of an urban foliage purveyor's barn.

I think

this is the 4-humped stink bug, Brochymena quadripustulata, or something closely related. Apparently they are usually found in trees and are predatory. This one showed up on an eggplant plant I quixotically decided to pot up in the front yard, I guess as a feeble joust at the possibility of food shortages and also because I love the architecture of eggplant flowers. Anyway, at first I thought the bug might be specially fond of Solanum melongena since I hadn't ever seen a stinker like this one and had never grown eggplant before this. But fear not, not every happenstance is of biological significance. Sometimes, it's just a coincidence.

Things That Like Coreopsis

On a gloomy mid-morning not so long ago I was passing by the patch of coreopsis grandiflora and noticed how gaudy their gold-yellow petals looked in the half-light. I mean, they actually kind of hurt my eyes. Apparently their attraction to insects is not diminished and possibly enhanced in low light to certain species, based on the numbers and variety of species found settled on or nectaring at the flowers on this darkish day. Of the six species observed in about 10 minutes, five were flies. I saw no bees except one expired honeybee. Too cold for bees and butterflies maybe.

The tachinid fly, Peleteria sp., competed with a drone fly Eristalis tenax for space on what to them I suppose were the prime flowers. The larvae of the drone fly are known as rat-tailed maggots and feed in water fouled by organic matter; I'm sure this must be in the neighbors' yards not mine.

A red and white crambid moth, maybe Pyrausta volupialis, rested colorfully nearby. No one seems to know or is willing to tell what the larval habits of this species are. They are quite common here during summer, so maybe I will discover the answer to this pressing question.


The all too common green bottle fly, Lucilia sericata, is often found hanging out on flowers when its not laying eggs on dead or injured flesh somewhere in the neighbors' yards. The tiny but fancifully patterned fruit fly, Neotephritis finalis, is said to favor flowers of the daisy family. Not sure but maybe these are one of those species whose larvae burrow into the seeds of compositae such as sunflowers. There was a cactus fly, Copestylum mexicana, but I failed to photograph that one; here's one from last November. They lay their eggs in rotten cactus leaves or stems. Again, must be the neighbors!

Spider and web

Rickety old wood fences make great habitat for spiders. This one has built a grand funnel-shaped web just a foot or so from where a jumping spider took up residence last year.

Tansy Leaf

I have a clump of tansy, tanacetum vulgare, in the back 25; I've found it to be a great magnet for bugs despite references to its insect repellent qualities. When it blooms, its heads of button shaped yellow compound flowers attract swarms of nectar feeders. A fair amount of leaf eaters have expressed appreciation for the plant, too, such as leafhoppers, grasshoppers, katydids, and spider mites. Predator species take advantage of the plant's attractions and so lots of them stalk among the fernlike foliage. I don't believe my tansy, considered a noxious weed in some corners due to its tenacious perennial root system and readiness to self-seed, has ever been troubled by caterpillars. The plant has been used as medicine historically, notably to control intestinal parasites. Please note tansy is toxic and like all plants should never be eaten willy nilly or without precise knowledge as death or sickness can ensue. The tansy hasn't bloomed yet but this leaf was beautiful enough glowing in the afternoon sun.

Fly Dance Two

Boatmen (and Boatwomen apparently) flies, Pogonortalis doclea, are another import from Australia and in my domain are becoming much more common. Here they are mating. Assuming the male is on top, I observed the female doing the 45 degree rotation that was observed here and assumed to be part of the male display. I have my camera set for bracketing, taking three exposures in succession. In this set, notice the drop of liquid that moves forward on the female's (again, assuming she is on the bottom) proboscis. The size and shape of the head appears significantly different between the sexes as shown in the top photo.

Dead or tired honeybee update

Totally unscientific bee population survey results:

Number of foraging honeybees on an average sunny day: About average

Number of dead or dead tired honeybees found in flowers or otherwise away from the hive: More than I remember seeing in years gone by (usually none) but not as many as last year. These are some images from the last couple of weeks. The bees on the hollyhock and the coreopsis are dead; the one on the artemisia was weak and trembling.

The latest information I could find on colony collapse disorder research is this article at the USDA agricultural research service. I know, this is the government we're talking about, but hopefully someone there has enough of a grasp on science left to figure this thing out. Scroll down the article and check out the photo of the bee with a varoa mite on its back.

June. Beetle. 2008.

Last night this beetle appeared on the screen door right on time or just a bit late. As I opened the door, it dropped off onto the doormat awaiting its portrait. Lots of beetle species are grouped in the superfamily Melolonthinae and are commonly called "June bugs" and/or "May beetles". This refers to the (uncanny) timing of the adult beetles' emergence after the underground-feeding grubs mature and pupate. It's not clear whether this beetle, which I'm guessing is a European chafer (amphimallon majale) based on gross anatomy and likelihood, is to be expected in May or June, but it's weird how June the first nearly always finds us face-to-snout with one of these species of scarabaeidae.

Sarcophaga

Sarx=flesh. Phagein=to eat. Flesh flies like this one resting on a sunflower stalk help out with sanitation by laying their eggs (or in some cases live larvae) on dead animals. As is familiar to most, the maggots will consume a dead rodent in a few days, leaving nothing much but unfortunately more flies. This one is of a species in the sarcophaga genus of the flesh fly family, Sarcophagidae.