"The river itself portrays humanity precisely, with its tortuous windings, its accumulation of driftwood, its unsuspected depths, and its crystalline shallows, singing in the Summer sun. Barriers may be built across its path, but they bring only power, as the conquering of an obstacle is always sure to do. Sometimes when the rocks and stone-clad hills loom large ahead, and eternity itself would be needed to carve a passage, there is an easy way around. The discovery of it makes the river sing with gladness and turns the murmurous deeps to living water, bright with ripples and foam."
― Myrtle Reed
I headed out early Saturday morning to beat the heat for a visit to the Arena Boat Landing along the Wisconsin River, Sauk County. On account of low water (and drought), there are plenty of sandbars to check for tiger beetles this summer. This location has become my insecting posse's favorite spot to get Hairy-necked Tiger Beetle Cicindela hirticollis. This species tends to hunt on moist sand just before the water, picking off small insects as they patrol the shoreline. I knew that finding them would be relatively easy, photographing them is another story.
Serene and peaceful ... let the battle begin!
There's one!
Hairy-neckeds do not tolerate being approached and are one of the most sensitive to movement species I encounter. They'll generally make an escape flight before getting even get 10 feet away. If you can just break a certain distance barrier, one can get in super-close with a macro lens, and then I find them to be reasonably cooperative, holding their position without a lot of body position shifting. With all tiger beetle photography there's an approach/success rate, but this species is one of the trickiest ― it took me a couple of hours to get these photographs.
I don't know that Hairy-neckeds have any more setae than other tiger beetles like Big Sand, Oblique-lined, Bronzed, and some Festives, but their white bristles do seem a little longer. These tiny hairs on the outside of their exoskeleton help improve perception of touch and might also serve as insulators against hot surfaces. Perhaps the setae aren't unique, but there's no doubt their sickle-shaped mandibles are quite long with respect to their overall body size.
This is species number 9 (of Wisconsin's 16) for the 2023 tiger beetling season ― a comfortable pace without long drives for northern species. I'll pass on those this year. My greatest enjoyment comes from obtaining quality insect portraits, even for common species. Learning about them is fueled by a combination of field observation, photographic study and reading.
Naturally, wherever there are tiger beetles there are usually robber flies. If you look closely, you can see each of these are with small prey ― a tiny bee, a fly, and a spider.
So far this year I've encountered several Eastern Hognose Snakes, which typically doesn't happen ― more this year than all other years combined. This was another rather large one that slithered past me while I was already prone photographing insects, giving me a chance to get a close-up photograph of its head.
Once home, I decided to check on the insect situation at Deer Creek across the street from where I live. I discovered this extremely small robber fly Dioctria hyalipennis. I think this may be a new species for me, but I don't keep a list. I only managed to get a couple of shots of it perched in Virginia Creeper, and then it was gone. I was hoping to get a super-zoomed macro shot of it, so I may go back today and see if I can find it or others.
I find the Fourlined Plant Bug Poecilocapsus lineatus as of the most annoying insects to photograph. Just about the time you move in with the macro lens, they quickly scoot to the underside of the leaf. If you back away, they usually come back out within a few seconds. And then back under they go. Part of the trick is to be ready with your camera and then move your other hand below the leaf where the bug is hiding. They're native to North America, but are often considered a garden pest.
Finding a pair of Phidippus clarus jumping spiders was the highlight of my Deer Creek bug hunt. I knew the genus but needed to get a dorsal view in order to make the correct identification down to species. Fortunately, both the male and the female were very accommodating.
It's a big world out there, oh tiny Chalcidoid wasp perched atop Butterfly Weed. I knelt to photograph the flower and barely noticed. I believe I've seen its kin consumed by robber flies. Now that this one is photographed and on my blog, I wish differently for its fate. But just imagine the demise of flying insects occurring each and every second from getting smacked by automobiles ― my windshield is filthy with their splattered remains. Judgmentally, hopefully it's mostly mosquitoes and deer flies!
Ye summery Common Yellowthroat contemplates his next move ― sing or bolt?
Post spring migration, a birding pal of mine wrote me the following sentiment:
"The last few days I have been thinking a lot about my years of apprenticing with you and what a gift they have been. To be able to recognize so many birds has enriched my life so much. I look at and experience the world and the seasons differently now. Especially the 'empty' months of March, early April, knowing how many creatures are returning each in their appointed time makes the world full of wonder and companionship."
They're not the first person to tell me that I've changed the way they perceive the world and nature. There's sometimes an immediate recognition, like what I hear from first-time field trip participants who tell me they had no idea how bountiful a place can be. For those who spend a lot of time exploring nature with me, appreciation, knowledge, and skills improve dramatically. Once you're hooked, there's no going back and it'll last the remainder of your time on our minuscule rock where it resides in our corner of the Milky Way Galaxy. While Nature's critters always provide elation, kindred spirits are a prominent source of happiness when discovering things I've seen countless times. Alone or with a few friends, it never gets old. Try not to hope for it in some other life ― do it now.
I hope the same is true for some of you out there.
All images © 2023 Mike McDowell