"Reason, Observation, and Experience — the Holy Trinity of Science — have taught us that happiness is the only good; that the time to be happy is now, and the way to be happy is to make others so. This is enough for us. In this belief we are content to live and die."
― Robert Ingersoll
“Learn to see what you are looking at.”
― Christopher Paolini
By "see" I believe Paolini meant to understand. As a lifelong student of natural history, merely photographing things isn't quite enough; I seek to understand the critters I encounter in the field. Not some mystic new-agey delusional suppositions that are no better than throwing darts at a dartboard, but a close-to-as-possible objective essence that can be ascertained by rigorous field observation and research. One ought not fill blanks with transcendental irrational garbage, but a refinement of empirical characteristics and qualities that, over time, reveals the realm of a particular critter's ways and life. The blanks remain unknown until they become known; they are not to be filled until there's something meaningful to fill them with. Replacing one mystery with an even greater one virtually guarantees never understanding the nature of things.
I had hoped for an earlier emergence for Ghost Tiger Beetles Ellipsoptera lepida, but they were essentially right on time ― the last week of June. Upon arrival, I found one within seconds scurrying across the sandy field at Sauk Prairie Recreational Area. No matter how many times I encounter these little sand-colored monsters I am always surprised how small they are compared to other tiger beetles ― they're very easily missed or mistaken for something else. One tiger beetler friend of mine said they look a little like a seed tuft blowing over the sandy substrate. It's true, they really do!
As longtime readers know, I've described how these particular beetles blend in so well with their habitat that they're often found by their tiny shadows when they run. There isn't anything spooky about this apart from a long chain of differential reproductive success and descent with modification — Ghost's maculations have evolved over time to adapt to their warm sandy environment. For me, this raw fact adds to their character and given moniker as an interesting biological anecdote.
Long ago, a mystic birder informed me that I have a supernatural connection to wildlife with respect to my ability to detect them, explain their behavior, and often predict what they'll do next. Do I think I possess this? Maybe so, but not in the way the mystic supposed. Kneeling down to a tiger beetle in order to photograph it, sometimes they run toward me. The mystic will say "Oh look, he likes you! He wants to meet you!" when all the tiger beetle is doing is using my shadow to thermoregulate and cool down. No — it isn't trying to make friends with me.
Still, I can't help but feel a little charmed when I see them running into my shadow, but when it comes to my mission for obtaining high-quality insect portraiture, it can be a little annoying. I might even be heard talking to the beetle by saying "Hey! Where do you think you're going?" as I retreat to keep it in the sunlight. However, knowing what they're actually doing, sometimes I allow them cool off for a minute or two before resuming my photographic pursuit. Still, it does not know this — it only detected a shadow to move into to bring down its body temperature; nothing more than an evolved trait or genetic "program" doing what it's supposed to do in order to survive.
Absolutely gorgeous and fascinating little beetles!
Proctacanthus hinei, a monster of a robber fly, will prey upon Ghost Tiger Beetles, and perhaps even other larger ones like Big Sand. They'll surprise attack by ambush, jab their proboscis through the thorax shell, and inject toxins into the beetle that liquefy its insides. Once sufficiently dispatched and brewed to perfection, the robber fly then sucks up its meal. As many others have stated, it's a good thing these insects aren't the size of dogs or horses. The insect realm is especially brutal, but there's no judgement, no revenge, no sense of tribalistic xenophobia — for something to live, other things must die.
A Festive Tiger Beetle! And another behavior that's innately instinctive ... procreation!
A somewhat aged or worn Big Sand Tiger Beetle still fit for battle ...
Before heading home for the day, I stopped at the Sauk City Canoe Launch to see what tiger beetles were present. Though the Wisconsin River is down significantly since my previous visit, revealing more habitat, there were very few shoreline beetles. Optimistically hoping for Sandy Stream and Hairy-necked, only a few Bronzed were present. It might simply have been the time of day, as it was getting rather late and some might have already retired to their nocturnal hiding places.
It drives me bananas when mystics and charlatans pedaling pseudoscience try to tell me the way they think the world works and they're not even close — taking potshots at my empirical and objective methodologies and sensibilities. I get it, though. And it's exactly as the late Isaac Asimov said when he wrote "Inspect every piece of pseudoscience and you will find a security blanket, a thumb to suck, a skirt to hold. What does the scientist have to offer in exchange? Uncertainty! Insecurity!" Many people, if not most, cannot handle the cold wet rag of a naturalist's worldview, but it's precisely the juice that renders our place in the Cosmos. Carl Sagan said "It is far better to grasp the Universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring" and “Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.” The life of an intellectually honest naturalist can be plenty interesting and meaningful just as it is without dressing it up in bullshit.
Discover reality — don't decorate over it with nonsense.
All images © 2022 Mike McDowell