Category: insects

Readers’ wildlife photos

July 2, 2026 • 8:30 am

Send in your photos if you got ’em, please!

Today’s photos continue the series taken by reader Ephraim Heller in Namibia. His captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

Today I continue my series on a May-June 2026 visit to Namibia. I’m organizing the posts by habitat, in the order of our visits, so that you get a sense of the ecosystems. Today’s post features Damaraland, a 48,000 km² region in the northwest of the country.

Damaraland is not a formal administrative region, but a geographic and cultural designation. It is a jumble of granite kopjes, basalt plateaus, flat-topped mountains, broad gravel plains, and eroded canyon systems. Like much of Namibia, it is desert. Here is an aerial view, taken from the window of a small airplane:

Life is sparse here. A handful of ephemeral rivers cross Damaraland, cutting westward from the interior highlands to the Skeleton Coast along the Atlantic Ocean. These rivers flow above ground for only a few days per year following significant inland rainfall, but each bed sits atop an alluvial aquifer that retains water from flood events for months to years. This subsurface water sustains a few trees, shrubs, and animals along the riverbeds. Here’s another aerial view showing the path of an ephemeral river:

By far the coolest critter I found was the longleg armoured corncricket (Acanthoplus longipes), which has superpowers. It is a large, flightless katydid brandishing big, spiny legs and a heavily armored (American spelling) pronotum. When attacked, individuals autohaemorrhage, shooting a jet of toxic hemolymph from the leg joints toward attackers. I wish I had a superpower like that:

Naturally, any creature with such a magnificent superpower fluoresces under UV light:

Frankly, the rest of this post is anticlimactic. What could possibly beat a longleg armoured corncricket? Not a pretty brush jewel beetle (Julodis humeralis):

A Namib rock agama (Agama planiceps) doesn’t beat a longleg armoured corncricket, not even when it is chowing down on a bug:

One night I went on a walk to see what would fluoresce under my UV light. I found this gecko. Sure, fluorescence is cool and I wish I could do it, but does this gecko autohaemorrhage? No, it does not. The folks at iNaturalist couldn’t identify it – apparently one needs the visible spectrum to make a positive ID:

This is tentatively identified as an orange lesser-thicktail scorpion (Uroplectes planimanus), another critter with the minor UV-fluorescence superpower. Interestingly, researchers do not know why scorpions evolved fluorescence.

Now for the birds. Sadly, they have no superpowers at all. Our lodge had a water feature that was the only surface water for miles around. I spent hours watching the birds bathe and drink.

A violet-backed starling (Cinnyricinclus leucogaster). The color is produced not by pigment but by thin-film interference: stacks of hollow melanosomes in the feather barbules refract light at specific wavelengths. The male can modulate its apparent coloration through posture:

A black-fronted bulbul (Pycnonotus nigricans):

A Namaqua dove (Oena capensis):

A red-headed finch (Amadina erythrocephala):

The southern masked weaver (Ploceus velatus). Egg color varies among females, allegedly as a defense against brood parasitism by the Diederik cuckoo. Because the cuckoo cannot know egg color before entering the nest, color polymorphism in the weaver population raises the probability of parasite detection and egg ejection. Not a superpower, but cool nonetheless. I just like the bokeh in this photo:

Finally, the requisite Namibian desert night sky photos:

Reader’s wildlife photos

June 23, 2026 • 8:15 am

Why is this feature like lox and a schmear? A: Because it’s on a roll. (Sort of.) I now have a total of four sets of photos in the queue, one of which I’ll post today. But please send your good photos, and a warm handshake to those who have done so.  I hope people realize that readers who send in good add a unique feature for this website: high-quality and delightful pictures of nature. Do compliment the photographer if you like their photos.

Today we have pictures from Ephraim Heller, documenting his recent trip to Namibia. (More will be coming.) Ephraim’s captions are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

Today I begin a series on a May-June 2026 visit to Namibia. I’m organizing the posts by habitat, in the order of our visits, so that you get a sense of the ecosystems.

The Namib Desert is the oldest desert on earth, with conditions that have persisted for 55 – 80 million years. At ~80,950 square km (31,250 sq mi), it is far and away the largest desert I have visited. It stretches ~2,000 km (1,200 mi) along southwest Africa’s Atlantic coast, including the entire length of Namibia. There is essentially no rain at all near the coast (2 mm/year average), but in places there is coastal fog that is the primary source of water for the desert plants. The stable climate over millions of years has resulted in high endemism. Of the ~3,500 documented species in the Namib, more than 1,000 are endemics.1-2. On the drive from the capital, Windhoek, visitors pass through Solitaire. It consists of a fuel station, a bakery and café, a general store, a small lodge, and a yard decorated with old vehicles. The nearest real town is hundreds of kilometers distant. When vehicles broke down, cars and trucks were simply left. Some of the collection includes American classics from the mid-twentieth century:

While having lunch at a picnic table in Solitaire, I observed several yellow mongooses (Cynictis penicillata) playing. Technically, Solitaire is semi-desert, so there are a few shrubs for the mongoose. They often share burrow systems with the local ground squirrels (Xerus inauris), which confused me as I tried to decide if I was seeing mongooses or ground squirrels. This is a mongoose:

Our destination in the Namib desert was Sossusvlei, where the sand dunes are among the highest in the world. “Dune 7” dune, the tallest, is 388 m (1,273 ft) in height. Vlei is the Afrikaans word for “marsh,” while sossus is Nama for “no return” or “dead end”.  The area is the drainage basin for the ephemeral Tsauchab river. The Namib Sand Sea, of which the Sossusvlei dune field is a part, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The dunes began forming around five million years ago. Sand from the Orange River was carried west into the Atlantic, swept north by the Benguela Current, then driven back inland by the prevailing south-southwest winds. Over millions of years the sand accumulated into a dune field ~32,000 sq km (12,400 sq mi) in extent. The sand is iron-oxide coated quartz, and younger sand near the base of dunes is paler while older sand higher up is a deeper reddish-orange, due to greater oxidation. The colors in these photos are real, and not simply me going wild with the saturation slider in my photo editing software. For scale, note the full-grown trees at the base of the dune in the first photo.

About a kilometer walk across the sand lies a small clay pan named Deadvlei (meaning “dead marsh”) where reside camelthorn trees (Vachellia erioloba) that have been dead for 600 – 900 years. There has been no water here since the fourteenth century! The combination of extreme dryness and intense heat inhibits microbial activity so thoroughly that the wood is preserved.

Gemsbok (Oryx gazella) and springbok (Antidorcas marsupialis) antelope are the primary large mammals of the Namib. Gemsbok can survive for extended periods without drinking free-standing water, meeting their requirements through vegetation. Here is a gemsbok in its habitat:

Here is a herd of springbok in their environment:

Toktokkie beetles (Onymacris unguicularis) are a group of darkling beetles with over 200 species in Namibia, and 20 in the Namib desert. We saw them throughout Namibia. I don’t know the species of this individual, but some species engage in fog-harvesting: when Atlantic fog rolls in, beetles climb to the crests of dunes and orient head-downward, body inclined away from the wind. Water condenses on the elytra, runs along ridges on the beetle’s back, and reaches the mouthparts. A beetle can take in water equivalent to ~40% of its body mass from a single fog event.

The garden locust or tree locust (Acanthacris ruficornis), is widespread across sub-Saharan Africa. Tt is technically a grasshopper:

Namaqua doves (Oena capensis) are ubiquitous, but I think they are pretty. They are the smallest doves on the African continent:

The Kalahari tree skink (Trachylepis spilogaster). I had no idea that some skinks are arboreal:

The extreme dryness and very low population density of Namibia make it one of the prime sites for astronomical observatories and night sky photographers:

Readers’ wildlife photos

June 11, 2026 • 8:15 am

Mark Sturtevant has been kind enough to send the last batch of photos I have, some lovely ones of arthropods. Mark’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

The various arthropods shown here were all photographed from my area in eastern Michigan. Most were taken outdoors where I found them, but a few were staged shots. Let’s begin with spiders.

First up is a species of Hammock Spider, Pityohyphantes sp. These make a small but densely tangled web across leaves and branches in the woods.

Next is an Orchard Orbweaver spider (Leucauge venusta). This is as I found her along a forest trail, but usually they are in their web at an angle where it’s awkward to photograph them. I don’t know what the growths are on the leaf:

The next two pictures are staged focus stacks from the ‘ol dining room table. First is a male Long-jawed Orbweaver (Tetragnatha sp), followed by a slightly older picture of a female for comparison. I favor staged settings for these spiders since they are extremely flighty, and I just don’t have the inclination to lay down in the tick-infested grass near water where they are abundant. What I always say about these very elongate spiders is that their startling appearance is simply because they use their long chelicerae and fangs as delicate chopsticks for handling prey, and they are as harmless to you as a piece of Dandelion fluff. The extra gnarly chelicerae on the male are further modified for mating. During that dangerous time, the pair will grapple face to face with their fangs, and the male uses those upward spurs to hold open the fangs of the female. His very long pedipalps are meanwhile needed to transfer sperm to her genital openings which are waaaay back on her abdomen. This can be seen in the linked picture:

Moving on to insects, next up is an Ichneumon wasp. With the help of iNaturalist, I am inclined to identify this parasitic wasp as Coelichneumon navus:

The common woodland fly in the next picture is possibly a wasp mimic, but it is certainly a predator. It is a species of Robber Fly belonging to the “Laphria canis complex” of very similar species:

The moth shown in the next picture is in the Tiger Moth family (Arctiidae). This is the Isabella Tiger Moth Pyrrharctia isabella, but possibly everyone knows the caterpillar, which is the famous Wooly Bear. The moth came to the porch light one night:

I can’t identify everything, even with the considerable help of AI. All I got for the caterpillar in this picture is that it is some species of “inchworm”, family Geometridae, but I already knew that. The dark puncture mark on the body may mean that it has been parasitized, and if so then it is doomed:

The next picture is a first for me. This is a Pennsylvania Ambush Bug nymph (Phymata pennsylvanica). I have seen high hundreds of adults, which are sit-and-wait predators on flowers and decorated to resemble flower parts. But like my failure to ever see a live Cornish hen (has anyone?), I have never seen a juvenile Ambush bug! I believe that the youngsters stay down low in the foliage:

The insects in the next two pictures are commonly called Red-banded Leafhoppers (Graphocephala coccinea). This species is polymorphic in that some are green and red, and others are a lovely blue and red, as shown with the mating pair. That picture is about 10 years old, but I’ve brought it back for comparison. The picture was taken with my olde camera that had a simple 50mm lens converted to a macro lens with extension tubes. If anyone wants to try out macrophotography, you really don’t need a true macro lens. At least not right away:

The final picture is a species of planthopper that I have not seen for a long time. I call this the “White Derbid”, after its color and its family name Derbidae. The species is Otiocerus coquebertii, and like the other odd -looking members of its family, it may be found by slowly walking along forest trails and peering under the leaves of tree:

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 24, 2026 • 8:10 am

Once again I’ve stolen some photos (with permission) from the Facebook page of Scott Ritchie of Cairns, Australia. Scott has documented a trip to Queensland, and his text and IDs are indented. You can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

Artemis Station, Cape York Peninsula, Queensland, Australia. The name that signifies excellence in Australian birding. This past weekend, I went on a wonderful camping trip with the Cairns Birders, led by Shane Kennedy and Doug Herrington, to Artemis Station. Doug then led us on a drive past Musgrave Roadhouse to Marina Plains. The last time I went up the Cape with Doug, we saw an adult Southern Cassowary with its chick at the top of the Kuranda Range. Well, lightning did strike twice.

Up the cape. It was magic. The weather was great, the sunsets so beautiful. The night sky was full on Milky Way. The sunrises were full of bird song. And the key “lifers”, the iconic Golden Shouldered Parrot (GSP) and the Red Goshawk, were on show. Here are some of my favourite photos from this trip.

My hat goes off to the staff of Artemis Station. Not only for hosting us, but for their heroic conservation efforts to save the last of the “termite” parrots in Queensland. Thank you Sue and Tom Shepherd, who own the station and tend to the parrots.

Adult Southern Cassowary (Casuarius casuarius). Great way to start the trip!:

And his chick!:

May be an image of cassowary and limpkin

Galahs (Eolophus roseicapilla) were common, flying around in noisy flocks at dawn and dusk:

 

Galahs, in the outback!:

Patrick of Artemis Station shows us the ant (termite) mound used by Golden-Shouldered Parrots (Psephotellus chrysopterygius). They dig a tunnel in the mound. An electric fence barrier us used to keep out marauding snakes and monitor lizard. Great lengths are taken to maximise survival and production of these critically endangered birds.

The ant hill also has interesting camouflaged invertebrates, such as this cicada:

Female and male Golden-Shouldered Parrots (GSP) at a feeding station. Wild birds are provided with a feeding station of grass seeds to enhance survival:

An immature male GSP flies past a trail camera at the feeding station. They keep an eye out for predators, and to monitor bird health and numbers:

Another critically endangered bird, the Red Goshawk (Erythrotriorchis radiatus), also lives in Cape York. A male goshawk keeps a sharp eye on his partner:

. . .who is building a nest for the seasons brood:

“What do you think, is it sturdy enough?”:

 

We were greeted at the campsite by an Australian Boobook (Ninox boobook):

This cute owl kept a close eye on us for 2 nights.:

An Australian Hobby (Falco longipennis), a species of falcon, was seen regularly at a nearby pond:

Its long wings enable it to really crank it up!:

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 17, 2026 • 8:15 am

Send in your wildlife photos! I am almost out. Thank you in advance.

Today we have miscellaneous photos from the Catskills taken by reader Jan Malik. Jan’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge them by clicking on them.

Here is another batch of pictures from my hikes in the Central Catskills this April and May. They are not too artistic, given the fast pace that a weekend backpacking hike demands, but they give a sample of what common animals a casual hiker can see in these “mountains” (the Catskills are an eroded plateau and, despite being steep in places, they are too low to have an alpine zone).

White‑tailed deer (Odocoileus virginianus), right in the parking lot at a cloudy sunrise. It was slurping water from a muddy puddle despite a clear stream flowing nearby, so it must have been leftover salt that attracted this ungulate. Woodstock residents like their roads well salted. One has to drive carefully at dusk around Woodstock, as there are many deer browsing on lawns and gardens.

In the woodland, I found the first of many red efts of the Eastern newt (Notophthalmus viridescens). This is an intermediate land stage of development between the aquatic larva and adult forms. Red efts have lungs, but air exchange through the skin is also important, supplying 30–40% of their oxygen demand. They travel through the forest litter when it is humid enough—after rain or in the early morning:

This is probably a blue‑headed vireo (Vireo solitarius), collecting nesting materials. If my identification is correct, then it is not possible to tell a male from a female, as they are sexually monomorphic and share rearing duties almost equally. Interestingly, however, a female may desert the nest just before fledging to mate with another available male:

Possibly an Eastern comma (Polygonia comma), found at higher elevation:

Black‑and‑white warbler (Mniotilta varia). I think this is a male. If so, he may be led by a female into the territory of another male to provoke a fight and allow her to judge his fitness. These birds occupy a similar niche to nuthatches and brown creepers; they climb and circle tree trunks to find arthropods:

Eastern towhee (Pipilo erythrophthalmus), male. These colorful sparrows hang around the edges of forest clearings:

Eastern American toad (Anaxyrus americanus americanus), hiding in a ramps patch. I wonder whether they would prey on red efts or if the efts’ foul taste would be a deterrent:

While passing through oak woods rich with acorns, I heard many alarm chirps from Eastern chipmunks (Tamias striatus). Most made themselves scarce as I approached, but one remained on guard duty:

Not a good picture, but here is a dark‑eyed junco (Junco hyemalis). These are hardy birds, staying year‑round in the forest. In winter they form close‑knit flocks with a few dominant individuals and a strict pecking order:

Chipping sparrow (Spizella passerina) on the side of a quiet road. These migrate to more southern states in winter and in summer nest closer to human settlements:

Mourning cloak (Nymphalis antiopa). There were a couple of them in the area, continuously jousting in the air for control of the territory. I see them every spring in that exact spot, but this year they were too engaged in battling each other to stay still, so this is a picture taken a few years back:

Brown creeper (Certhia americana), shown here just a moment after eating a couple of mayflies. They are common enough, but I rarely see them due to their near‑perfect camouflage. Without directly comparing the bill length it is difficult to tell a female from a male:

Readers’ wildlife photos

May 11, 2026 • 8:15 am

Mark Sturtevant is back with some arthropod photos for us. His captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge his photos by clicking on them.

Today we have another set of pictures of arthropods from my area in eastern Michigan. Some of these were taken in the field and others were in a staged setting on the faithful dining room table.

During recent summers, I have been using cheap black lights on the front and back porch to attract more insects, and many new species have arrived as a result. One was this floofy moth that is clearly in the tiger moth (Arctiidae) family, but it was new to me. I believe this to be Spilosoma latipennis. If so, it should have hot pink legs, as shown in the link, but I did not know at the time to check for that:

Another arrival was this species of chafer beetle. This is an Oriental Beetle (Anomala orientalis). It is an invasive species from Asia that is becoming a minor pest here on turf grasses and other plants:

Moving on to spiders, here is a new species of spider called the Western Lynx Spider (Oxyopes scalaris). Lynx spiders can be easily recognized by their form, and especially by those prominent leg spines. They are sit-and-wait predators on plants. This male was missing one of its pedipalps, so I used editing tricks to replace it:

Next up is a lovely Orchard Orbweaver (Leucauge venusta), which had built its web across a seldom-used path in the woods. I had to stand on tippy-toes to get several partial focus stacks, and this final picture was grafted together by hand, piece by piece from those pictures. I really like their iridescent abdomens that look like antique porcelain, and those beautiful green legs. She was eating an unidentified Syrphid fly:

The next two pictures show a flashy jumping spider that I have only seen a few times. This is the Thin-spined Jumping Spider (Tutelina elegans), but to me it will always be called ‘the purple jumper’. The pictures were both taken in a staged setting, where the first is a focus stack, again needing much assembly, and the second was a “lucky shot” single frame. Lucky because she never once stood still, and she was always waving her front legs. I wonder if these spiders are trying to be ant mimics:

Back to insects. Folks here will have seen this one many times now, but it is still special. This is the Wasp Mantidfly (Climaciella brunnea). I won’t repeat again the improbable life cycle it has as a parasitoid on spider egg sacs. You can clearly see that it shows convergent evolution on praying mantids, and at the same time it is a wasp mimic. More specifically, it mimics various species and regional color variations of paper wasps (Polistes sp.). A detail about that which I think is really neat are its two-toned pigmented wings, which is an ersatz way to get its wings to resemble the wings of its models.

I show our local model wasp (P. fuscatus) in the next picture for comparison. Paper wasps have an extra crease that folds their wings length-wise, so the wings are dark and narrow. The mantidfly does not have the crease, so it fakes it with pigment:

Speaking of mantids, I finish with an amusing story about the next picture. This is a Chinese Praying Mantis (Tenodera sinensis), in hand, and the picture was taken with the Opteka 15mm wide angle macro lens. This fully manual lens is the most difficult lens that I own since to get the depth of focus that is much of the point for this kind of photography, one has to stop down the aperture to about f/32. As a result you are taking pictures with a pinhole camera, and focusing is done by guesstimation. Meanwhile, the working distances are extremely short so an insect subject is practically touching the lens. Anyway, she wasn’t having any of it, and quite honestly I was having a hard time keeping this big girl under control. So I made a short movie about the struggle, and attached an appropriate sound track to it. For those who have handled one of these insects, you know they will do what they want to do, and what they want to do is climb:

Sound up for the movie!

Readers’ wildlife photos

April 27, 2026 • 8:15 am

Today we have photos of stick-mimicking insects from Trinidad and Tobago, all taken by Ephraim Heller. Ephraim’s captions and IDs are indented, and you can enlarge the photos by clicking on them.

I remember the fascination I felt as a child on the rare occasions when I was taken to a zoo that had a terrarium containing stick insects. I still feel that way. In researching this post, I discovered that stick insects are even more remarkable and unusual than I anticipated. For example, parthenogenesis is common; they regrow lost limbs; and the world’s longest insect is Phryganistria chinensis, found in China and measuring 36 cm in body length (62 cm or 2 feet with legs extended, photo here).

I photographed two species. The first four photos are the Trinidad log insect (Phanocles keratosqueleton), known in regional folklore as the “god horse” or “hag’s horse.” It appears in folklore as an omen of death, despite being a harmless herbivore.

I never found a stick insect during our daytime hikes. During daytime, stick insects press themselves flat against plants and remain motionless, rendering them camouflaged and invisible. After dark, they walk out onto exposed vegetation to feed, molt, and mate. They are easily spotted with a headlamp due to their eyeshine:

Their camouflage can incorporate three distinct adaptations: cryptic coloration and background matching; cryptic body shape and texture; and behavioral crypsis (swaying when disturbed, mimicking a twig moving in a breeze). Not only are the insects themselves camouflaged, but many species evolved eggs that look like plant seeds:

Stick insects are in the order Phasmatodea, which contains over 3,500 species. Phasmids sits under Polyneoptera, which contains other winged insects such as grasshoppers, mantises, stoneflies, and earwigs. They are found on all continents except Antarctica. Against my expectations, Phasmatodea is monophyletic: the group evolved once from a single common ancestor, rather than through convergent evolution:

The next six photos are of the Trinidad twig or Trinidad stick (Ocnophiloidea regularis). More details on this species are at the end:

The oldest phasmid fossil is about 165 million years old, but recent studies claim that Phasmatodea first evolved 252 – 299 million years ago. This suggests that they evolved in response to the radiation of early insectivorous vertebrates such as parareptiles, amphibians, and synapsids. A major diversification occurred in the late Cretaceous, with the rapid spread of flowering plants (providing new foliage types to mimic) and the emergence of early birds:

Stick insect species’ reproduction ranges from sexual to obligate parthenogenesis, and much in between. Parthenogenesis (reproduction without fertilization) is common and has evolved independently many times among phasmids. Parthenogenic offspring are almost always females, producing all-female or near-all-female lineages. The offspring are not true clones of the parent, but are typically homozygous and have reduced genetic diversity, which can impair their ability to adapt to new stresses. Some species are facultatively parthenogenetic, meaning females can switch between sexual and asexual reproduction depending on conditions:

Phasmids can voluntarily shed a leg when grabbed by a predator. The leg is broken off at a specialized weak joint. Phasmatodea is the only insect order known to regenerate lost legs. Regeneration is restricted to nymphs because it requires molting. Cells at the wound site dedifferentiate and form a mass called a blastema, which then rebuilds the limb segment by segment through successive molts. The same molecular signaling pathway (ERK/CK2) involved in vertebrate limb regeneration drives the process in stick insects, which has attracted research interest for regenerative medicine. Regeneration is not free. Regrowing a leg during development results in disproportionately smaller wings and measurably reduced flight performance in adults. The body appears to divert resources away from wing development to fund limb repair:

The Trinidad twig (photos above and below) reproduces sexually:

The photo below shows two males attached to a female. Phasmids don’t do polycules and this is not standard reproductive behavior, but research on a closely related species has documented this scenario. While one male is guarding a female by remaining clasped to her abdomen, a rival male can approach and attempt to insert his genitalia while the first mate is momentarily repositioning or feeding. If the rival succeeds in attaching, both males end up simultaneously clasped to the female. This can result in a slow-motion “boxing-like” confrontation, with both males leaning backward and suspended from the female while trading blows with their forelegs until one of the males is eventually displaced: