"Your days are numbered. Use them to throw open the windows of your soul to the sun. If you do not, the sun will soon set, and you with it."
― Marcus Aurelius
Weather-wise, it's been another monochromatic weekend with pewter skies, both Saturday and Sunday. It rained a good part of the morning on Saturday and it's been overcast all day today. Thus, it was a very good thing I took the day off on Friday to help Lori Widmann get her 16th Wisconsin tiger beetle ― Splendid Tiger Beetle Cicindela splendida. The mission was a success and Lori is over the moon with her accomplishment. The day started a little rainy, but skies cleared by noon. After the bluff's rocky outcroppings were sufficiently warmed by the sun, the tiger beetles began to emerge ― one doesn't see where they come from, they're just suddenly present as if by teleportation.
The colorful flat lichen-covered surfaces serve as hunting grounds for these magnificent beetles. An unsuspecting ant or other small insect attempting to traverse the rocks have virtually no chance making it from one side to the other without detection. As readers here know by now, tiger beetles are extremely quick and can cover the distance across the stone-scape in mere seconds.
Here's a rare photograph of this blog's author (taken by Lori) contemplating the next composition and exposure:
The outcroppings provide excellent hides to conceal one's body, which makes approaching a tiger beetle somewhat easier. This also enables me to maintain a supported posture in order to capture low-angle close-up portraits. There's something about this particular habitat that makes me think of the rocky structures as apartment buildings for the beetles.
It's impossible for me to pick a favorite tiger beetle, but Splendid is definitely in the upper half of Wisconsin's 16 species. So then, 2022 will go down as the year me, Lori, Mark, and Lester were all able to complete our Wisconsin Tiger Beetle Life Lists. Because of the Boreal Long-lipped mission in June, I stand a chance to get all sixteen for the 2022 season. I still don't know if I'll do so, as the remaining two species will require considerable drive time (Cowpath and Twelve-spotted).
Time to photograph other things! There is quite a bit Cliffbrake on south-facing surfaces:
Since my visit last weekend, False Foxglove opened and Liatris seemed at peak.
And then there was this adorable little spider ...
This is Phidippus apacheanus, a type of Jumping Spider.
The spider wasn't all the pleased with my photographic attempts ― adopting a defensive posture whenever I approached it with my macro lens. One doesn't want to be a bother to wild critters, so I limited my time with just to make sure I captured some nice portraits of it.
Cool bit on this spider's reproductive behavior:
Phidippus apacheanus males have an elaborate courtship display. The male begins his display by holding the carapace very high, shifting the abdomen to one side, and raising the first pair of legs. In this position, he moves before the female, stopping after each few steps. The male advances in a zig-zag pathway, shifting his abdomen to the other side at the end of each oblique approach. Throughout, the dancing male flicks his forelegs up and down, holding them wide apart at first and bringing them closer and closer together as he nears the female. Phidippus apacheanus differs from other Phidippus species at this stage by moving his forelegs both closer and higher as he nears the female until the tips touch in a circle above his head. Then, with forelegs held almost parallel before him, he touches the female cautiously once or twice. Females of P. apacheanus are unusual in that they perform an acceptance dance just before the male touches them. With forelegs high and wide apart and abdomen bent to the side, the female sways before the male, sometimes with a few steps to one side and then the other. After this acceptance dance, the male climbs over her and uses the forelegs to help turn her abdomen to the side. When the genital pore, which lies on the ventral abdomen, is exposed the male inserts his palpus. After 2 to 3 minutes the male withdraws and turns the female's abdomen in the other direction and inserts the other pedipalp. This completes the transfer of sperm. (Chamberlin, Gertsch, 1929; Gardner, 1965)
It's almost over, pal!
No worse for wear, I let it be on its way ― what a nifty and beautiful creature!
Some shots from below the outcroppings ...
Here's a photograph Lori took while I was looking for Splendids, and also taking a bit of a gamble ― no, I'm not afraid of heights. Recall this spring while photographing Claybank Tiger Beetles a strong gust blew me off one of the outcroppings. Flank and shoulder injuries were harsh, but not severe, which was somewhat lucky. I instinctively curled into a ball and kept rolling another twenty feet or so before managing to stop. Again, I lost my prescription sunglasses and got a bit of Poison Ivy rash from the roll into the vegetation.
The gusty bluffs can be dangerous. I don't know if anyone has fallen and died here like climbers occasionally do at Devil's Lake State Park ― at least there's a gradient here. Another potential danger is not fully appreciating how hot it can get at Spring Green's desert prairie. From experience, it's at least 5 to 10 degrees warmer than posted temperatures and though it's only a 4-mile roundtrip hike, one needs to bring plenty of water. This time we actually ran out of water before we got to the lower trail and paid for it. Given the humidity, I wouldn't be surprised if the heat index was over 100 degrees. Lori got a bit of heat exhaustion, but she was still thrilled to be able to complete her life list with Splendid.
Here are a couple of Festive Tiger Beetles, which were present in astonishing numbers on the lower prairie trail. We also found a few Virginia Metallic, Punctured, and a single Big Sand Tiger Beetle. September is the last month of intense insect photography. Warm days in October can still render tiger beetle activity, but I'll likely be spending more time with birds in forthcoming outdoor excursions. Whether or not I score all 16 tiger beetle species in a single season, it will still go down as the most memorable of all the years I've been observing and photographing these amazing insects.
Most images © 2022 Mike McDowell