At times, the tree trunk seemed alive with the subtle, lazy flapping of resting butterfly wings. I fell a little bit in love with the Hackberry Emperor butterflies (on account of their cuteness, you see) and spent several hours stalking them to get just the right shot. This was the winner for me:

O hai, butterfly! (Hackberry Emperor Butterfly, Asterocampa celtis (Nymphalidae))

That face! Those eyes! The little forelegs all cutely tucked up against the body!

They look pretty nice from the side, too

The start of this new term was marked by my latest presentation. I didn’t give this talk at a conference, nor at a departmental seminar or even for a grad course. No, this talk was given to a special interest group called the Arctic Circle – a group of people with experience working in the Arctic and/or who are simply interested in what goes on in Canada’s northerly latitudes. I had been invited to speak about my research on beetles from Nunavut and the program of which I’m a part.

Now, consider this:

The audience members were not people in my field. The networking opportunities were therefore not ideal and it was unlikely that I would get the chance to schmooze with any potential future advisers or employers. I did not get paid.  This was not an academic event. There was no press coverage. There wasn’t even any free swag or food.

So why on earth would I spend hours carefully preparing slides and rehearsing? What was in it for me?

Well, that’s actually not really the point. The point is that one of our jobs as researchers and leaders in our chosen fields is to bring new and interesting information about our work to the general public.  I think we are often guilty of forgetting who it is that we’re doing research for: Mr. & Ms. J. Q. Public.

We grad students are doing lots of amazing research, but it often doesn’t make it past the pages of the latest issue of X Journal. It’s read, of course, by our academic peers, but what about everyone else? Don’t they also deserve to know about our research, and how it affects them personally? We find our  own work super-interesting (hopefully) – wouldn’t we want other people outside our field to be excited by it too? Let’s also not forget that most of us, in one way or another, are conducting publicly-funded research; the public deserves to hear what their tax dollars are doing.

I think we all have a duty to take these kinds of opportunities for outreach or education with the general public whenever possible – to share our work (and our enthusiasm for it) with others.

If you must have less altruistic motivations for doing this kind of thing, here you go:

• sometimes you get paid (Or fed. Or offered beer. Or all three.)
• you can practice your communication skills
  • public speaking (this talk was the first lecture-length presentation I’d ever delivered – and it went well!)
  • PowerPoint slide-making
  • NOT USING JARGON (completely impractical when speaking to a non-specialist audience, or to children!)
• you might meet someone that could end up being a collaborator or supporter ($) of your work
• it can be fun!

Personally, I really look forward to these kinds of opportunities. It’s refreshing to speak to more diverse audiences than the usual conference-goers. Working with kids can be especially rewarding – they have such enthusiasm and a wonderful sense of adventure, and they really provide the perfect audience for doing hands-on or outdoor workshops!  I have another general interest talk lined up at a garden club this spring to address the matter of a certain pesty red beetle – should be fun! I see this blog (and Facebook, Twitter etc.) as being a natural online extension of these activities.

Some kids in Nunavut, checking out my specimens, and ones they caught outside themselves - public outreach CAN be fun and games!

What do you all think?

I wish everyone a happy, restful, and fun holiday season! I’m taking an internet break for a week or two, so I’ll see you all in the new year!

It’s too darn cold out for most bugs, and I suspect that my recent run of finding critters IN the house has dried up for the most part, so real-time photos will be quite scarce until the spring (*cry*). While I do plan on practicing (and sharing) my studio-style photography during the winter months whenever I can find a subject, I think it’s time to bring back the Forgotten Photo Friday series for another year.

After returning from BugShot and dropping some coin on a new-to-me flash, I spent quite a few days playing outside, experimenting with this new light source. I managed to get a few decent snapshots of critters around my house.  Here’s the first:

Amblycorypha oblongifolia - Oblong-winged Katydid - nibbling her toesies.

It seemed like there were a LOT of katydids around this year, more than I can remember in past summers. They were frequent visitors to my back porch light, and the chorus of their combined songs at night was marvelously loud.

I somehow spotted this chunky-pretty and incredibly cryptic female on a low, still-green shrub alongside a trail in the woods in mid-September.  I plucked a red leaf off the ground and offered it to her, to offset her vibrant green colour bef0re snapping her portrait. She kindly obliged.

Apparently entirely unbothered by me, she spent most of her photoshoot grooming her toesies tarsi.

Fun fact: this species comes in two other color morphs – tan/orange and PINK. PINK!!!  I’m pretty sure I would lose my bananas if I came across a pink katydid.

Internet Forever! (Image from: A. Brosh www.hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com)

During the course of an average day, when I’m working on any number of academic pursuits from my home office, I visit a bunch of web sites: library data bases, insect identification aids, online scientific journals, statistical software help pages, how-to lab/procedural pages, etc.

I also spend time on Facebook, Google+, Twitter, Flickr and a big ol’ pile of blogs.

I’ve been thinking about the title of a talk I’d like to give. It would sound something like, “Why I spend so much time on the internet.” Lately, I’ve had a number of very interesting discussions with other grad students, faculty members, and online sciencey-folks about the roles and effects of social media on the way we think about science, do science, and communicate about science.

Let me be frank: I’m really, really excited by the buzz about the topic (Morgan Jackson provides a great round-up of blog posts at his blog Biodiversity in Focus ), not only in different social media venues, but also in more traditional, academic forums.

A recent paper in the journal of Innovative Higher Education by D. Powell, C. Jacob and B. Chapman provides strong arguments for the benefits to academics of blogging and other social media, with implications for research, teaching and learning, and outreach. I get the sense that academics can more intuitively appreciate how social media can be used in outreach activities, and even in teaching, but many are still very resistant to the notion of incorporating social media in their research activities.

Here are some reasons why scientists should embrace social media:

• Social media can be used to identify research opportunities and find collaborators.

• You can get real-time feedback from other researchers, helping you refine your research questions, methods, and interpretation of experimental results, well before the formal publication stage.

• You can easily get this feedback from a larger, more geographically and disciplinarily diverse base of expertise than you would likely reach via traditional means.

• From a more altruistic perspective, other researchers can benefit from online transparency and accessibility, often in ways that cannot happen in traditional media. For example, lab methods or data collection instruments can be demonstrated in photographs or video (saving other researchers the trouble of trying to decipher complex methods sections if they’re interested in replicating specific protocols in their own work).

• Blogging can help you become a better communicator, by improving writing skills and language proficiency.

• Sometimes journalists get it wrong. You can tell the public about your research in your own words.

• Blogs, by their very nature, permit the rapid distribution of information to a very wide public audience. Your new paper will get more attention and readership if it gets cross-posted on multiple blogs and Twitter than if it only gets delivered to paying subscribers of a particular journal.

• You can access alternative modes of funding for your research.

• It is fun; also personally and intellectually rewarding.

• Soon, everybody will be doing it: get with the program.

I’m being a little tongue-in-cheek, but I mean it in all seriousness. I will even go so far as to say that scientists must embrace these new tools. I think that social media are going to be the catalysts for a major paradigm shift in the scientific community, in terms of who we perceive as being the audience/receptors of science and who we perceive as being our collaborators.

P.Z. Meyers at Pharyngula cautions researchers not to be dismissive about the role of blogging/blogs in scientific discourse, and highlights the need to develop the pertinent skills:

I can imagine a day when this kind of presentation [blogging about a new study] becomes de rigueur for everything you publish, just as it’s now understood that you could give a talk on a paper. It’s a different skill set, too, and it’s going to require a different kind of talent to be able to address fellow scientists, the lay public, and science journalists. Those are important skills to have, and this kind of thing could end up making them better appreciated in the science community.

Boraz Zivkovic at Scientific American’s A Blog Around the Clock discusses the evolution and future of this paradigm shift in his post, “The scientific paper: the past, present and probable future” more eloquently than I ever could; please take some time to read the entire post.

This evolution will not happen overnight. There is still considerable resistance to the notion that blogs and other new media might have a role in “real” science.

Take, for example, this comment left on the Tree of Life blog (Jonathan Eisen, UC Davis evolutionary biologist), by the author of a paper that was critiqued by both the blog author and commenters:

I would like to provide my response to several comments that have been mentioned here that will not arise in a peer-review setting and that make blogs a dangerous venue for information delivery as it reduces the credibility of findings regardless of scientific support [emphasis mine].

To which I say: “Really? Reeeaaallly?” Blaming the medium for the message (which could have easily been shared between professors in a lunch room, by grad students participating in a journal club discussion, or by a dissenting colleague in a conference talk) is, frankly, asinine.

Blogs encourage discussion, the sharing of ideas, and open debate. We may not always agree with or appreciate what is said (especially if someone is criticizing our own work), but that’s life. Sometimes statements may be made that are not based on factual information, but you can bet your bippy that if misinformation is published (either in the form of a comment or a post) readers will be quick to point it out. Edits or retractions can happen immediately, and we don’t have to wait for the next issue of X journal to come out to hear other opinions or see corrections made.

What is unique, and arguably better, about blogs compared to more traditional discussion venues is that blogs allow real-time discussion in a public forum. To quote Powell et al.:

Conversations about scholarly work that in the past have been restricted to faculty hallways, conferences…publications and response in subscription-based journals are now also occurring in openly accessible online spaces, opening up the dialogues to a broader audience…

Said another way, social media is just another kind of “hallway talk…in a really, really, long hallway”. (Thank you Bug Girl  for that most excellent insight.)

I think nay-sayers need to understand that no one is suggesting that we do away with traditional means of publication (journals, books, conference proceedings, etc.). Rather, social media should be embraced as a compliment to these traditional communication tools.

There are, of course, some kinks to iron out. There are issues of copyright, intellectual ownership, co-authorship, and the risk of being “scooped” by other researchers (although, regarding that last point, read this: “On getting scooped in ecology“). Although Powell et al. mention some of these concerns, no suggestions for addressing them are offered.  While these factors certainly present challenges, surely they are not insurmountable; it simply speaks to the need for additional discourse and the establishment of standards for these new media forms.

__________________________________________

Douglas A. Powell, Casey J. Jacob, & Benjamin J. Chapman (2011). Using blogs and new media in academic practice: potential roles in research, teaching, learning and extension Innovative Higher Education

Anyways, this all requires some extra chores, namely, the hauling and stacking of logs. Earlier this week I was moving logs from our wood shed into the alcove at the front of our house (it’s much nicer to get wood from the alcove whilst in jammies on a chilly morning), when I found a little fellow who’d been all tucked up in a little nook of bark, ready to wait out the winter.

I was tremendously rude and brought him inside and asked him to pose for a picture or twenty.

He was not very obliging about sitting in my white box, and was quite determined to escape post-haste. This all made for lots of blurry and badly-framed and over/under-exposed photos and an exasperated photographer.

I even tried the TOTALLY CHEATING method of cooling him down with an ice pack…but the moment he warmed up…zoom, off he’d run!

Finally, I decided to try providing him with a more “normal” substrate: some bark and a leaf scavenged from the alcove. On the leaf he went…and you could practically hear the “Aaaaaahhhh, this is more like it!“

He settled down almost immediately.

Then, after discovering the wood chip, he became uncooperative again (he wanted only to be UNDER the chip, not on it), but stopped roaming long enough to peek at me for a final (rather adorable) picture:

___________

(Totally cute darkling beetle: Neatus tenebrioides (Tenebrionidae)

“Black…upper surface as a rule with metallic lustre (bluish, green, brass or coppery)…”

Black with greeny-metallic lustre – check.

But, lo:

“…elytra sometimes rufinistic [reddish]“.

Well that’s quite different, isn’t it?

Ok, reddish – check.

These two again from the side:

Believe it or not, these two beetles are the same species. This is a great example of why a well-assembled taxonomic key is critically important to making accurate identifications. I had rough-sorted (i.e., “guesstimated/eyeballed”) these beetles into different groups initially, but the reddish-brownish one (of which there are few) just kept keying out the same as the more prevalent metallic version. I checked in with the experts at the Canadian National Collection to make sure I hadn’t goofed – and I hadn’t.

The key I’m using for my ground beetles was written by Charles H. Lindroth over the course of about eight years, and represents the sum of several “smaller” publications. It is truly a magnum opus in the world of beetles (indeed, of entomology) and is still considered the ultimate reference for this family, even after 35+ years of new research and updated phylogenetic/taxonomic work.

(For Morgan: Taxonomy FTW!)

________________________________

Lindroth, C.H., 1961-1969. The ground-beetles (Carabidae, excl. Cicindelinae) of Canada and Alaska. Opusc. Entomol. Suppl. 20,1-200; 24,201-408; 29,409-648; 33, 649-944; 34, 945-1192; 35, I-XLVIII.

Take, for instance, the shiny, shiny package of shininess that I received in the mail today, all the way from Spain. It contained these:

Lovely little ethanol-filled vials with Carabids (ground beetles) and Buprestids (jewel beetles) collected this summer in Texas, Kansas and Missourri. A PhD student working in Spain sent these to me, as a gesture of thanks.

Back in February, I received an email about the Calligrapha sp. leaf beetles I’d photographed – this student was looking for specimens from North America to contribute to his systematics study on the genus. I agreed to keep an eye out for them, and one day in May I hit the jackpot, finding about 10 specimens. I watched for more all summer but never saw another – even though there were signs of feeding on the dogwood they so love to munch.

Long story short: a fellow grad student got specimens that will hopefully help his research. He, in turn, sent me these beetles he’d collected while visiting the US. He may feel differently, but I think I got the sweeter end of this deal.

Behold, a teaser of the beautimoniousness that is now my Precious:

SO. SHINY.

More pics to come once it’s finished drying. This guy (and probably the others, I haven’t even really looked at them yet) is going on the List of Things That Make Me Gleeful.

Anyways.

The main point of this post is actually not pretty beetles (srsly). What I want to highlight here is that social media can be an incredibly useful tool for scientists wanting to collaborate.

And I’m not even referring to capital-”C” “Collaboration”, as in, where stuff gets written down and terms and funding are agreed upon, etc. etc. I’m simply talking about helping out, and getting help from, other folks. You know, because it’s a Good Thing To Do.

In my experience, it’s a great way to find like-minded science-y people (i.e., ones interested in exchange, sharing, and collaboration) with similar research interests. Secondly, the general public likes to be involved in, and contribute to, science. Putting yourself and your research out there on blogs, Twitter, G+, Facebook, etc., can open doors to both professional and public interest and engagement. I am pretty convinced that it’s well worth the effort…

A few days ago my wife was snuggling with Solomon, our fat, grouchy, old, outdoor boy-cat, when she felt a lump at the nape of his neck.  “Sol’s got a tick!” she announced. Ticks may not be as exotic as brain-bending beetle-banes, but they’re still pretty nasty (and therefore also cool).

I gleefully ran to get my tick tool, an ingenious little plastic do-dad that lets me literally twist a tenacious tick off the victim’s skin intact (leaving mouthparts embedded in skin can be bad news in terms of infection).  Fur was parted, tick scooped, twisted, and voila – off.

Usually Sol’s hitchhikers are common Dog Ticks (Dermacentor variabilis).  This one looked just a bit different.

It is smaller than the ticks I usually see (this animal was about 6mm long), and the shape and color of the shield (the roundish area behind the head) were different. Also, see those super-long (creepy) palps?

After having done a bit of googling, I’m pretty sure that this is a Deer Tick (Ixodes scapularis), which is not particularly awesome, since they are known vectors of Lyme disease. The only other time I’ve seen this species was when I plucked a very tiny one off my wife’s leg after a walk in the woods. I brought it to our local health unit, and thankfully it tested negative.

A recent study of Deer Ticks collected from people’s pets in my home province (Ontario) showed that about 1 in 10 were infected with Borrelia burgdorferi , the bacteria actually responsible for the sometimes debilitating disease.

Results of tick-testing in Ontario, Canada, from 1993-2002

We live just to the east of that great big red circle by Kingston.  Although I am a teensy bit comforted by all the white dots closer to our area, I have to suspect that the range of Lyme-carriers has shifted eastward since these data were collected. (Eep.)

My wife’s reaction upon discovering this tick was, “Shouldn’t these be gone by now? It’s November!” While a lot of 6- and 8-legged critters are indeed out of commission for the winter by this time, mature Deer Ticks are most commonly found on pets in October and November. This is because the ticks are mostly in the larval stage during the warmest summer months of July-September. The larvae are incredibly tiny, not much bigger than the period at the end of this sentence, so they’re easily overlooked.

Although I’m not thrilled about having this species lurking around my home, I have to admit I was rather taken with one of its features. I didn’t notice this until I was processing my pictures:

Mega-closeup of the tick's integument - cool!

This is an extreme closeup of a small area just above the spiracle (the little hole on its side through which oxygen enters its body). You can see what was turning my crank: the really cool sculpturing – all those little wavy lines on the upper regions, and the concentric circles around the spiracle. Sculpture (which is often visible to the naked eye), and even microsculpture (which usually requires a microscope to be seen), can be an incredibly useful tool when identifying insects to the species level.

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Morshed MG, Scott JD, Fernando K, Geddes G, McNabb A, Mak S, & Durden LA (2006). Distribution and characterization of Borrelia burgdorferi isolates from Ixodes scapularis and presence in mammalian hosts in Ontario, Canada. Journal of medical entomology, 43 (4), 762-73 PMID: 16892637

I’m sorting through beetle specimens collected from Iqaluit, Nunavut today.

There’s not a ton of diversity in the samples so far, and I was starting to get a little bored, until I saw this:

Say it with me now: “EWWWWWWWWWW“.

Now say, “COOL!”

Very good.

This poor ground beetle (family Carabidae) has been parasitized by a nematode-like worm called a hairworm, or “Gordian worm”, (Gordiaceae: Nematomorpha).  Adult hairworms are free-swimming, water-dwelling animals (either in fresh or salt water). They mate and produce young (larvae) in the water.  The larvae require two hosts. First they infest various small arthropods (called paratenic hosts), like mosquito larvae. Next, those small paratenic hosts are consumed by other, larger arthropods – ground beetles fit the bill since they are heavy-bodied, voracious predators.  Worldwide, at least 70 species of ground beetles are known to be hosts for hairworms.

When the worm is mature, it has to leave its host and return to the water to reproduce. If it has infested an aquatic insect, it has no trouble making its way back to the water. However, if it has chosen a terrestrial insect as a host, things get a little more complicated.

Like so many parasites, the hairworm can use a type of mind-control to affect the behaviour of its host. In this case, it compels the terrestrial beetle to seek out water, then drown itself. Yikes! For this beetle, which I caught in a yellow pan trap, I can envision one of two scenarios: 1) the worm was mature, and convinced the beetle to take a dip in the preservative fluid in the trap, or 2) the beetle just happened to wander into the trap, and the worm decided to abandon ship. Whatever happened, it was not a happy “ending” for either animal!

Not a happy ending.

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Poinar G Jr, Rykken J, & LaBonte J (2004). Parachordodes tegonotus n. sp. (Gordioidea: Nematomorpha), a hairworm parasite of ground beetles (Carabidae: Coleoptera), with a summary of gordiid parasites of carabids. Systematic parasitology, 58 (2), 139-48 PMID: 15449829