Chirping lily beetles

The sun shone in all its glory to end this most rainy April. Many insects came out of their temporary hiding places to dry out and enjoy the warmth. Some of these were Scarlet Lily Beetles. I wasn't sure if I had an infestation, as I had collected just a couple of adults in the last few weeks, but today I found 12, the first ones were a mating couple. As I found them I placed them in a plastic pot, and while I was carrying it I noticed a faint chirping call. I thought that there must be a nest nearby with calling chicks, but then I realized that the sound was actually coming from the pot: the disturbed Lily beetles were stridulating! when I touched them, they chirped repeatedly. You can watch this short clip of them in the pot, as I push them inside the pot, they chirp - I was trying to place the camera on the pot opening to improve the sound recording, but they kept climbing up the pot.



The first description of the stridulation of this beetle was written by the early entomologist René Antoine Ferchault de Réaumur in 1737:

when one holds it, it lets a little cry be heard, produced by the friction of its last abdominal segments against the elytra, the more one presses the elytra against the body, the louder it cries

More recent studies have confirmed this description, and also shown that stridulation is common in the Lily Beetle subfamily (Criocerinae). The stridulatory apparatus consists on a file on the last tergite - the dorsal end of the abdomen - made of microscopic parallel ribs, which are scraped by files of sharp denticles in the underside margins of the elytra. The sound is produced while the abdomen contracts, and these contractions can be amazingly rapid, up to 200 times per minute and is loud enough to be heard if the beetles are less than 30 cm from your ear. The high variability of the chirps and the situations in which they are produced suggest that this behaviour is a defence mechanism: the beetle will chirp if captured and the sound can startle the potential predator to release the beetle before swallowing it. In other beetle species chirping is used in intraspecific communication, with the lily beetle, is is yet another way of avoiding being eaten.

More information
Michael Schmitt & Dieter Traue. 1990. Morphological and Bioacoustic Aspects oî Stridulation in Criocerinae (Coleóptera, Chrysomelidae). Zool. Anz, 1990, 225: 225-240.

Another girdled snail

I spotted this Girdled Snail, Hygromia cinctella, the second ever I have seen, climbing up a wall in my street a couple of days ago. The white whashed wall made a white background for it and I was pleased to get to photograph the live snail as it went about its business.

A bumper year for 7 spot parasites?

In the last few days I have found quite a few 7 spot ladybirds parasitized by the wasp Dinocampus coccinellae in the garden: live ladybirds snared to a silky cocoon underneath them. Today I did a quick count and found eight. You can see their portraits on this post. This is being a successful year for 7 spots: there are so many around it is hard not to get one or two ladybirds in the background of any bug photo I take! It is no surprise that ladybird parasites are enjoying this ladybird bonanza. If you want to find out more about the rather gruesome Dinocampus life cycle click here.

One on sage

on the conservatory frame

a second one on the spurge

one under a Lamb's Ears leaf

An odd one, with the cocoon on one side on a bougainvillea leaf in the conservatory

one on an orchid in the conservatory

a second one on sage

Dinner of the green bug muncher

After the very rainy April we are having a teasel growing in the garden is looking very luscious. It has grown a large rosette of leaves, and developed two large leaf-cups which are filled with water to the rim. If you want an account on this fascinating carnivorous plant, check here. I had a peek a couple of days ago to check if any drowned invertebrates were visible. And there were indeed! On the bottom cup (above) a 7 spot floated on a very cloudy liquid, while on the top one, a drowned slug was visible at the bottom of the clearer water, and a few small unidentified insects. What a catch!

The end of the affair

As the solitary bee herald of spring, Anthophora plumipes, is my favourite bee. It is with some sadness I found this dead male on the path today. The rain might have contributed to its demise, but it might also have reached the end of its natural life. In my patch, the first males appear at the beginning of March, and the last males, usually worn individuals, fly until the middle of May, barely two months of male activity, but the lives of individual males are bound to be even shorter, something I was referring to in my last post. On the bright side, the females will be still busy nesting for another month