August and Strike III

"All species will go extinct eventually, even our own: it is one of nature's few imperatives."

― Hope Jahren

It's August! There's still plenty of insecting to do, but I'm about ready to give up on Sandy Stream Tiger Beetle (Ellipsoptera macra) for the year. On Sunday, a thorough search of sandbars and beaches at the Sauk Canoe Launch, Arena Boat Landing, and Peck's Landing near Spring Green yielded a big zero.

A whiff! A dip!

It's a troubling sign; while historically rare in southern Wisconsin, this is the first time in a decade since I discovered them at Sauk that I've failed to find one. True to the last blog post, that doesn't necessarily mean they're completely extirpated from the area because there's still a chance for inland populations or spots I haven't yet explored this season, like Bender Bluff Beach and sandbars on the eastern edge of Sauk City. Having said that, if that is the case, their numbers must be astonishingly low this year.

Here's a map of E. macra from iNaturalist.org:

So far the only Wisconsin 2026 E. macra observations are from Door County (July 9th). All the pins northwest of Madison are from 2022 or earlier, but I found them at Sauk in 2025, 2024, 2023, etc., going back to 2015. The lone sighting near Eau Claire is from 2013. Alas, I do not publish my insect sightings on iNaturalist.org, but probably should start doing so.

If there's a lesson here, it's that we shouldn't take things for granted when a species is uncommon or rare in an area. It really doesn't take much to substantially knock them back—and maybe the spring flooding we experienced was responsible after all. Even though the Sandy Stream Tiger Beetle isn't federally imperiled because it's doing well in other states, its local future in southern Wisconsin is unclear. My gut says they'll make a comeback to the lower river sandbars eventually, but it might take a few years. 

On the other hand, Hairy-necked Tiger Beetles were abundant on the sandbars at Arena and Peck's Landing, as well as Bronzed—numbers were up. Temperatures were a little cooler than the previous visit and that seemed to have slowed them down just enough for me to get a little closer to them with my macro rig. 

This one was on drier sand.

But, as per usual, most individuals were found hunting for prey on wet sand near the water's edge ...

As such ...

It makes for messy insecting.

A somewhat cooperative Red-spotted Purple rendered a nice portrait opportunity ...

There we go ...

This is Yellowseed False Pimpernel (Lindernia dubia), a native wetland annual that thrives on exposed mudflats and river sandbars like those along the Wisconsin River.

It was a gorgeous, comfortable day without any mosquitoes. Saturday's 2.5 inches of much-needed rain was welcome, but it will likely trigger another hatch of blood-sucking bugs soon.

Just a quick comment on political posts like the previous one. Generally, I'll only post about politics when it comes to matters of science denialism, violations of the 1st Amendment, and removing environmental protections. When I resumed blogging in 2020 after a long hiatus, I turned commenting off. It's been my experience that an open comment section becomes an exercise in digital babysitting, and have neither the time nor patience for it. Disagree all you want, but you'll have to do so elsewhere.

This is a reality-based blog.

All images © 2026 Mike McDowell

Good grief ...

The recent Senate exchange between Rand Paul and Anthony Fauci prompted me to check what's currently sitting on official government webpages regarding SARS-CoV-2 pandemic origins. What I found was a masterclass in logical fallacies, misdirection, and overconfident conclusions presented as science. 

 

To be sure, I'm not defending Fauci. He has been criticized for privately encouraging scientists to reconsider early suspicions of a lab leak. Could it have been a lab leak? Certainly. But the empirical evidence, for the time being, points to a zoonotic origin. The purpose of this post is to show that the .GOV page presents a contested scientific question with far more certainty than the evidence supports—and relies on arguments that do not hold up under scrutiny.

 

To get started, consider the following ...

We've fished this lake for two months without a single bite or sighting. If there were fish in here, we'd have caught one by now.

Our rovers have been crawling the surface of Mars for decades, analyzing thousands of soil and rock samples. If there were any chemical or fossilized traces of ancient life, they would have turned up by now. 

Spot anything sketchy?

If you didn't click on the link, here's Point 5 from the linked .GOV webpage:

"By nearly all measures of science, if there was evidence of a natural origin it would have already surfaced. But it hasn't."

First of all, it's troubling (and embarrassing) that this statement appears on an official government webpage because it presents a contested scientific question as though it has a settled answer. 

 

Secondly, this is not how science works, and it isn't what the scientific literature has concluded about the origin of the virus. What appears on the .GOV website isn't a scientific finding—it's an argument, and a poor one at that. It assumes that if a zoonotic spillover occurred, definitive evidence should already have been discovered. But that assumption has not been demonstrated. The search for the origin of SARS-CoV-2 is not complete, and many infectious disease origins remain unresolved for years or decades, with some never conclusively traced. Failure to find definitive evidence does not prove that the evidence does not exist.

Rather than possess the basic intellectual honesty to say, "we do not yet know," the statement treats a lack of evidence as definitive proof of its claim. This is a form of argument from ignorance: it takes the absence of a definitive finding and treats that absence as evidence against a competing explanation. The flaw is assuming that if evidence has not been found, it must not exist. As the familiar scientific principle goes, "absence of evidence is not evidence of absence."

It's akin to saying "We don't know, therefore we do know."

Another example would be:

"We haven't found a natural explanation for how life first got started on our planet, therefore it must have a supernatural origin."

Right?

 

Finally, evidence for a natural origin of the virus does exist—it's just not conclusive physical proof (like catching the exact live host species in the wild). Spatial mapping of the earliest late-2019 cases and environmental sampling at the Huanan market heavily point to the wildlife trade. At the present time, the preponderance of scientific evidence points to a zoonotic origin. 

Now let's look at the other points on the list ...

Point 1:

"The virus possesses a biological characteristic that is not found in nature."

But this does not mean that SARS-CoV-2 has a biological characteristic that cannot occur naturally. They are almost certainly referring to the furin cleavage site. But pointing out that a specific feature hasn't been observed in this exact lineage of betacoronaviruses before 2019 doesn't mean it can't evolve naturally. And anyway, furin cleavage sites do appear independently across multiple other coronavirus lineages—evolution routinely produces novel combinations.

Point 2: 

"Data shows that all COVID-19 cases stem from a single introduction into humans. This runs contrary to previous pandemics where there were multiple spillover events."

This is not an established fact.

There are peer-reviewed papers that have presented evidence that the earliest outbreak likely involved at least two zoonotic introductions. You'll find that virologists who study pandemic origins are much less divided than the U.S. intelligence community—and even those intelligence agencies favoring a lab leak express only low-to-moderate confidence. Is this skepticism reflected on the .GOV website? 

Historically, pandemics and epidemics have involved multiple zoonotic introductions, but others have been dominated by a single successful introduction followed by sustained transmission. There is no universal rule that all zoonotic pandemics must show repeated independent spillovers.

Point 3: Partially true!

"Wuhan is home to China’s foremost SARS research lab, which has a history of conducting gain-of-function research (gene altering and organism supercharging) at inadequate biosafety levels."

However, it's dishonestly framed. Defining gain-of-function as "gene altering and organism supercharging" is a dramatic sensationalization rather than a scientific definition. Whether WIV experiments officially constituted "Gain-of-Function" remains disputed. Researchers swapped genes to test how viruses attach to human cells, but they were not engineering "supercharged" pathogens.

Point 4:

"Wuhan Institute of Virology (WIV) researchers were sick with COVID-like symptoms in the fall of 2019, months before COVID-19 was discovered at the wet market."

Interesting, but not conclusive. We know that, for some people, COVID-19 was no worse than a common cold, and many respiratory viruses can produce symptoms indistinguishable from COVID-19. Without a positive PCR test or blood antibody data from those specific individuals back in late 2019, labeling generic respiratory symptoms as "COVID-like" is scientifically meaningless.

I'm not an expert on this material, but one doesn't need to be a virologist to detect poor arguments.

 

Addendum:

As he has a penchant for doing, Trump jumped the gun by blaming "radical-left vandals" and claiming he had proof before the facts were in, forcing his administration to aggressively double down on his story despite clear evidence that the Reflecting Pool's damage was just a botched installation by a no-bid contractor. Now, with the Justice Department dropping its case against former Olympian David Hearn and admitting the Department of the Interior suppressed internal reports confirming contractor error all along, it proves once again how quickly the administration manufactures political outrage long before reality catches up. 

 

It's just the way he is. 

 

Delusional

"The origin of the virus that causes COVID-19 hasn't been definitively proven, so the question remains open. But the scientific evidence supports a natural spillover from an infected animal to humans rather than a leak from a lab."

See: No way!

Percent of Americans who:

Believe in literal Biblical Creationism: ~35%

Deny Anthropocentric Climate Disruption: ~35%

Are OK with Christian Nationalism: ~35%

Are core MAGA Supporters: ~35%

The president's current approval rating: ~35%

 

Another idiot:

Robert F. Kennedy Jr. recently claimed (again) that Lyme disease is a lab-engineered bioweapon created through gain-of-function research. However, scientists and historical data show this claim is entirely false. Ancient Origins: Genetic studies show the bacteria causing Lyme disease (Borrelia burgdorferi) has existed in North American forests for at least 60,000 years.

 

More

Don't trust these people—they're either lying, ignorant, or both.

Strike II

"Seeing the mud around a lotus is pessimism, seeing a lotus in the mud is optimism."

― Amit Kalantri

No Sandy Stream Tiger Beetles were found during my weekend survey in Sauk and Arena. Though later than their typical emergence window, my historical records show they can still be found well into August. 

Moderate drought has brought the Wisconsin River low enough to expose a network of extensive sandbars—reminiscent of a summer just over a decade ago, though with far fewer tiger beetles around on this day. While this could still be the typical mid-season lull, I'm beginning to wonder if the spring flooding is the cause for their exceedingly low numbers.

Hmm ... how far I can hike via sandbar hopping?

A stretch of beach ...

In all my searching I found just a single Bronzed Tiger Beetle, but there was at least another subject of interest: Shoreline Wolf Spiders (Arctosa littoralis) ...

Their camouflage is superb. They standout a little more when sunlight is on them by creating a contrasting shadow, but look what happens when clouds block the light ...

I mean, is that impressive or what?

I was on the fence about heading to Arena. It's better known and weekend sandbars on hot days are guaranteed to be packed with Muggles, complete with loud music, pets, and cookouts—a bit too much of a party scene for my taste. Still, people often get curious about what I'm doing, which can create opportunities to share a little entomology.

Despite beachgoers scattered about, I completed a loop around the main sandbar. Like at Sauk, Bronzed were scarce—only two sighted—but I encountered around a dozen Hairy-necked Tiger Beetles working the damp sand. I spent an hour trailing them with my camera, though their skittish, hyper-vigilant nature made close-range portraiture exceedingly challenging.  

 

This is the part where I might appear to be entirely unhinged to onlookers—walking in slow motion toward empty sand, crouching, standing, crawling on all fours, and throwing my arms up in pure frustration before starting process all over again. Though nobody asked on this day, every so often someone comes up to me and asks "What are you doing?"

 

Me: "I'm photographing a tiger beetle!"

 

Them: "A what?" 

Naturally, the beetles kept to the water's edge, where the saturated sand had a sour, swampy funk to it—that classic smell of dead algae and marsh muck decaying under the mud. Pursuing them down in the mire meant I finished the day completely drenched, muddy, and smelling like the bottom of a riverbed.

 

Such fun!

 

All images © 2026 Mike McDowell

Arena's Sandbars!

"Writing is 1 percent inspiration, and 99 percent elimination."

― Louise Brooks

Here are a few photos from last weekend's trip out to Arena's sandbars on the Wisconsin River. The smoke and haze definitely cut down on visibility to the horizon, but it ended up creating a pretty cool atmosphere for these shots. The repair job I did to my Nikon FT1 adapter seems to be holding up as well, so I'm putting off purchasing a new camera for now. I've saved for it and I'm not going to use those funds to buy another guitar!

As I mentioned in my previous post, despite the fantastic habitat, tiger beetles were nowhere to be found on the sandbars. However, the phenological window is right for the Sandy Stream Tiger Beetle—which emerges only in summer, unlike species with spring/fall cycles. I'll likely look for them again tomorrow or Sunday.

A few southbound Least Sandpipers (Calidris minutilla) were foraging for invertebrates along the sandbars ...

Ah yes! Fall migration has begun.

There were lots of Allegheny Monkey Flower (Mimulus ringens) ...

Macro close-ups ...

The only insect I photographed was a this deceased stag beetle ...

As usual, I ended up at Sauk Rec, but it was already late and sweltering when I arrived. The only tiger beetles out were a few Punctured Tiger Beetles; the rest were likely sheltering in their burrows to escape the high heat. While we had a nice cooldown this week, temperatures are set to climb back into the 80s and 90s over the weekend.

Though on the non-native and invasive Knapweed (Centaurea biebersteinii), I got a nice photo of a Common Sootywing (Pholisora catullus) ...

Before resigning myself from the oppressive heat, I spent a few moments photographing Purple Prairie Clover (Dalea purpurea) ...

As for tomorrow, if I don't find Sandy Stream Tiger Beetles at Sauk (or Arena), I may end up exploring the Pheasant Branch Creek Corridor or Deer Creek. 

All images © 2026 Mike McDowell

Insecting along The South Fork!

"We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us."

― Joseph Campbell

The forest fire haze from the north has moved into Wisconsin―goodbye blue sky!

I took Friday off work to search for Sandy Stream Tiger Beetles, but found zero—I checked both Arena and Sauk. In fact, I didn't find a single tiger beetle at any of my river stops. I wasn't completely surprised as we're between the spring and fall emergence seasons. Perhaps the early spring flooding had an impact on reducing their overall numbers, but they can be quite resilient creatures.

 

Saturday and Sunday I stayed closer to home, exploring the habitat along Deer Creek. Actually, it's official name is the South Fork of Pheasant Branch Creek. The north and south forks merge at the confluence pond along Deming Way before flowing into Pheasant Branch Conservancy, and ultimately Lake Mendota. 

 

You may recall that a stretch of the creek was heavily re-engineered for flood mitigation. While many of the trees were removed, a native prairie was planted in their place. Overall, it's not a bad trade-off—I've already noticed more butterflies and dragonflies frequenting the open habitat. Best of all, the specific spot where I monitor hopper insects (suborder Auchenorrhyncha) remained untouched. Thus, it's still the case if I don't want to drive anywhere, I can walk a block and immediately begin insecting.

 

So, let's take a look at what I found this weekend ... 

This little hopper has been featured on my blog many times. In fact, it was one of my first macro photography subjects when I first got my Tamron lens. This is Green Coneheaded Planthopper (Acanalonia conica), which were abundant along the creek.

It's common to find them lined up on a stem, like so ...

This next one is the Northern Flatid Planthopper in the genus Flatormenis ...

A female Locust Treehopper (Thelia bimaculata) ...

Dead end ...

Blazing star in bloom marks the season's pace ...

 

One of the great things about this two-mile route is its mix of habitats, which brings a natural shift in insect diversity and changes how I approach my photography. It's worth noting that I see far more than I end up photographing. I missed two chances at jumping spiders, for example, because they hopped out of frame before I could get a shot. Sometimes I'll mention species I saw without photo documentation, and other times I won't. It's always the case, though, that I observe far more than what I feature here.

 

Alright, back to insecting ...

Oh, come on ... line up those wings!

Perhaps it was a type of mating signal?

I really have no idea, but a male moved in quickly, attached, and the paired couple flew in tandem to a quiet perch. Given how fast and frantically Common Buckeyes (Junonia coenia) flutter, tracking them in flight is usually a exercise in frustration—making this encounter a rare moment of good fortune.

A very accommodating Variegated Fritillary (Euptoieta claudia) ...

Coreopsis ...

Lori often reminds me I should do more dragonfly photography. She's right! They're not a priority for me, but they do make nice nature portraits. This one is Eastern Amberwring (Perithemis tenera), one of several that were flying near the South Fork expanded pond. 

This next one is an Eastern Pondhawk (Erythemis simplicicollis) ...

I also saw Common Whitetail, Twelve-spotted Skimmer, Halloween Pennant, and Blue Dasher.

 

It isn't that dragonflies aren't interesting enough to capture my attention and efforts—they absolutely are. In fact, one of the things I find most remarkable about them is that they are among the oldest winged insects on Earth, dating back roughly 300 million years, about 70 million years before the dinosaurs. Can you imagine a dragonfly-like insect with a 30" wingspan? 

  

And naturally .. 

A tiger beetle! Thanks to the exposed ground from the mitigation project, there's still a lot of open soil, which has attracted Punctured Tiger Beetles. It's remarkable how quickly a species can colonize fresh habitat. As the newly planted prairie matures and thickens over time, this bare ground will likely disappear, but I'll enjoy their presence while it lasts. 

Victorious over a freshly dispatched prey item—what a mess! Having used its lightning-quick speed and sickle-shaped mandibles to overpower its prey, this one takes pause amidst the dismembered remains before resuming patrol.

Unlike our spring-fall species, Punctured Tiger Beetles are true summer specialists—emerging in June, peaking in August, and tapering off by late September. Though dirt common (no pun intended), they're still insects worthy of admiration.

The extreme close-up ...

It can certainly see me, but what does it actually process? 

 

What is a tiger beetle thinking—or can it think at all?

 

Probably not.

 

While insects don't possess conscious thought, abstract reasoning, or an inner monologue in the human sense, their brains are far more sophisticated than simple, rigid reflex machines. Operating on anywhere from hundreds of thousands to a million neurons, an insect's neural architecture functions like an ultra-fast, highly optimized mini-computer that evaluates sensory data in real time—weighing competing inputs like hunger, heat, and visual threat to make immediate, adaptive choices. They are capable of genuine learning and memory formation, such as navigating complex landscapes or remembering negative experiences, but their internal world is ultimately driven by hardwired, rapid processing designed for split-second survival decisions rather than subjective, contemplative thought.

 

All images © 2026 Mike McDowell