Bugosphere

On Life, Bugs, and Life Bugs

First of all, egad, how did July pass by without me blogging? Oh yes, because I was bugging! Apologies for the absence, but really, sit here at the computer or head outside and hunt bugs..?

Ok, so no surprise, I come from a very nature focused family. My parents are really into birds, and, common to avid birders, keep a "life list" of species they have spotted during their many years camping, summering at our upstate cottage, and recently, the cemetery near their home in Buffalo. Life lists by graveyards, gotta love it.

So, I have often lamented, why on earth do I have to be into insects, the most populous group in the animal kingdom?! Or to be scientific, the most populous class in the animal kingdom...But, I have found a few advantages. For one, I don't even have to get out of the apartment to get cool photos (http://magblog.audubon.org/insects-city-episode-one), and should I be lucky enough to be outside, I don't have far to walk to find more of my friends. But, for all you listers out there, one of the biggest advantage: a life bug list that is virtually endless and easier to update than those bug-eating birds!

It's hard to find people too enthused about my insect findings, so I resort to regaling my parents about spottings, and well, their title alone demands their interest, doesn't it? So weekends often involve me calling home, my mom answering, and me piping up "ohhh, guess what? I spotted three Life Bugs!" To which she petulantly replies, "that's not fair, you have more species to find than I do!" Ok, she isn't really petulant, it just had a nice alliteration to it. And should I get my Dad on the phone, after a short silence, he says "God you are really getting weird." Funny, a lot of friends concur.

In any case, there are times when even I feel a little bugged out, usually when on the computer, trying to ID some of the hundreds of new photos, thinking how I have to resize, create thumbnails, code profile pages, add to categories, and wonder if anyone will even click on it, let alone purchase an image. But then I come across one of my photos and realize it's insect that I have never seen before, blow it up larger, and marvel at nature's creation. Living in the East Village in New York City, there is amazing diversity of people outside my window. But I tell ya, these colorful kids have nothing on some of the bugs I have come across.

Well,enough jabbering, it's picture time! I hope you enjoy the smattering of recent Life Bugs below.

 
An Ailanthus Webworm Moth, Joseph's technicolor dreamcoat has nothing on this moth!

European Earwigs in a rose blossom, poor species has been libeled by old wives tales. It prefers the dark dampness of cellars, not human ears.

An Ornate Checkered Beetle, the photo doesn't do its coloring justice. The dark coloring ranges from metallic black to bright turquoise depending on how the sun light hits it.

A Nessus Moth, a type of Hawkmoth. Upon spotting, it flew away, but I returned every few minutes and was finally rewarded an hour later.

A Pinching Beetle, a type of Scarab Beetle.  This sucker was a good three inches long, and one of the few insects I did not tempt to climb on me.

A Leafcutter Bee I believe, collecting its pollen on the hairs of the underside of its abdomen rather than its legs like honey bee and bumble saddle bags.

A three-lined Potato Beetle. Ok, you can't see any its lines in this photo, but I really like shooting insects head on, shows more personality, don't you think?

 

 

 

 

Notes, Quotes, and General Homage to Jean Henri Fabre

Upon hearing of my then recent bug obsession, a former co-worker and current friend loaned me a small paper back titled "Fabre's Book of Insects".  The front sported a watercolor-like illustration of two crickets on a hill, so between the simplistic cover and the brevity of the book, I confess I didn't pay it the respect it duly deserved, and filed it away in the ever-growing insect section (say that ten times fast) of my library. Over a year later, we chatted about an upcoming film, and he casually mentioned wanting to dip into aforementioned book, which I claimed to be almost done with, and I then promised a prompt return. Of course, I started reading it that evening.

Well, I couldn't even get through the first chapter... without pausing to take copious notes! I didn't know much of Fabre, or his publication so I started reading with no preconceived notions or expectations. And am glad I didn't, because it made for some of the most entertaining educational text I have ever come across. When's the last time you laughed out loud during a science lesson?

Albeit I am unusually smitten over insects, but I truly think the general population of nature lovers would appreciate this book. And any NRA member. I kid you not, I was only on the fourth species/chapter and already there had been two references to the unconventional use of a gun during his experimentations- once to test the hearing of a Cicada, the other to test the excitability and brightness of a female glow worm. Fear not, I will not reveal the results.

I think the singular most valuable lesson I culled from Fabre's observations was that anthropomorphism is not only acceptable, but amusing. What an effective way to try and make these insects more relatable and worthwhile of such scrutiny. His empathetic manner made for such great lines as "The Mantis, I fear, has no heart. She eats her husband and deserts her children." How succinct a summary can you get?! Other times he is simply poetically profound: "Four years of hard work in the darkness and a month of delight in the sun- such is the Cicada's life. We must not blame him the noisy triumph of his song. For four years he has dug the earth with his feet, and then suddenly he is dressed in exquisite raiment, provided with wings that can rival the bird's, and bathed in heat and light! What cymbals can be loud enough to celebrate his happiness, so hardly earned, and so very, very short?"

Not to say he glorified every species he came across. For example, I laughed the most at the following passage regarding a certain moth: "For the appearance of the female Psyche, however, little can be said. Some days later than the others she comes out of her sheath, and shows herself in all her wretchedness. Call that little fright a Moth! One cannot easily get used to the idea of so miserable a sight: as a Caterpillar she was no worse to look at...The mother Psyche renounces all the beauty which her name of Moth seems to promise." In other instances he is downright exasperated by them, as illustrated by his outcry to some particularly perplexing grubs: "I have offered you larvae, cells, honey", I cry in despair. "Then what do you want you fiendish creatures?"

Beyond our avid interest in insects, I feel I have found a soul mate on the following viewpoint of and on nature as well. He states "Infinitesimal life telling its joys makes me forget the pageant of the stars.  Those celestial eyes look down upon me, placid and cold. But do not stir a fibre in me. Why? They lack the great secret- life…. In your company, on the contrary, O my cricket, I feel the throbbing of life which is the soul of our lump of clay; and that is why, under my rosemary-hedge, I give but an absent glance at the constellation of the Swan and devote all my attention to your serenade! A living speck- the merest dab of life- capable of pleasure and pain, is far more interesting to me than all the immensities of mere matter."

After reading that passage, I had that "whoah, I totally get it" moment. My outings in nature tend to be more nose to the ground than eyes to the skies, and many a time have I griped about the money and resources spent on researching planets and stars when we have yet to uncover the countless wonders awaiting discoery on earth and in the oceans. I recently attended a lecture at the Explorer's Club, where the speaker was Emory Kristof, a seasoned underwater photographer for National Geographic. His discussion included the constant challenge of finding funding for deep water exploration dives and equipment. One of his most publicized and hailed expeditions revealed new species, new behaviors, global warming implications and of course more mysteries- all of which cost one half of one season of the TV series Friends!!

But I digress, I did not mean this to be a didactic rant but rather, tribute to a man that makes me wish they invented a time machine already. I would have happily followed in his trail, trials, and travails during his self-propapageted study of the most populous species on earth. Another trait we share: being autodidacts- "a mostly self-taught person, as opposed to learning in a school setting or from a full-time tutor or mentor" (per Wikipedia's definition). I admire and often envy those armed with degrees and schooling on subjects I wish I knew more about, but am happy to still have the curiosity bug later in life, and the freedom to pursue such interests on my own. I know it can't last forever, especially since my unemployment insurance will run out in the fall, but for now, I am sure Frenchman Jean Henri Fabre would agree with me, ain't this some "joie de vivre".

 

 Images "borrowed" from here, who apparently borrowed them in turn, sorry for lack of photo credits!

This city has gone to the bugs...

This has been the buggiest 24 hours I have ever had without actual live specimens or camera. So I decided this momentous occasion finally called for the birth of THE BLUG (bug + blog = blug).

It all started last night when I received an impromptu gift- a HexBug! No, this is not a bug pin cushion to curse ne'er do wells, it's a micro battery-powered robot that skitters around, can right itself if pawed by a fiesty feline, and changes directions in roomba fashion should it head butt an obstacle. Wired wrote it up, that's how cool it is. 

Then this awesome afternoon- Film Forum was hosting the film Beetle Queen Conquers Tokyo, and not only was the film's director Jessica Oreck there for QA, but also Hugh Raffles, author of Insectopedia. This was the first time I was first in line for a movie, and longest Ive lingered afterwards, as I hung around like a bug groupie waiting to meet them in the lobby. And yes, I bought the book to have Mr. Raffles sign it; he was very generous with his time and seemed genuinely happy to meet a fellow bug nut. His message is in somewhat heiroglyphic handwriting, but it is addressed to Kimsect, so really, what more do I need, color me giddy. Inbetween my fawning, I shamelessly hawked my new Bugopshere business cards in hopes of being the Bug girl who conquers Manhattan.

Then, on the walk back home, still savoring the moment, I spotted a spider. On a wifebeater...my top tunic of choice...accompanied by other bugs on tees and bags and cards. There I met more bug fans, a company called Bugged-Out, can you believe it? The designer Dina is an architect by trade, and get this, she drives a VW BUG. Ok,now color me green. I purchased that tank top and this awesome bag:
Both are made of organic cotton and part of the proceeds also goes to MS research.

So, I have to admit, I was feeling a little bugged out from all the web site and photo work I had these past few months, but this close coincidental gathering of bug fans really rejuvenated me. Henceforth, hitheroto, I shall do my best to deliver the original mission of Bugosphere, and bring you the wonderful world of bugs through words and images and blugging on a regular basis. Feel free to share any of your stories as well, the more bug love the better!