Orchid bee in genus Euglossa (above and left)

Orchid bees (Euglossine), jewels of the forest. Between 2021 and 2023, I spent a lot of time photographing (or attempting to photograph) orchid bees in Costa Rica, Peru, and Panama. 

I managed to capture good images of about half a dozen species and learned a lot. In some areas, these fantastic little bees (~8mm) are at risk from habitat loss, climate change, and the overuse of insecticides.  Encouragingly, most research shows that populations are stable in protected areas. 

However, other surveys elsewhere in Central and South America show declines, especially in Brazil, where the wholesale destruction of their habitat is ongoing. 

Orchid bees are a challenging macro subject. They are small, nervous, fast, reflective, seasonal, and willful. But they are also perfect subjects for the tenacious photographer because, absent photographs, they are too small and fast-moving to make out any detail with the naked eye. If you watch them coming to flowers to feed, I doubt you’ll be able to see the details of their fuzzy little bodies, cute faces, and brilliant colors. I can't, and I've had a lot of practice.

If you know what to look for, you’ll sometimes see something like a stinger protruding between their rear legs. That’s their tubular tongue which is so long some species need to tuck it under their bodies and only deploy it when feeding on nectar. 

I’ve been using both my old Zuiko 60mm and the newer Zuiko 90mm. The magnification on the 90mm helps “get in close” (photo below) and works well when they are perched. But keeping them in the frame when they move is nearly impossible. I also found that using one or two off-camera flashes is really helpful.

These little beggars fly extremely fast and do a lot of their perfume hunting a couple of hundred feet off the ground in the canopy.  The females are equally fast and they tend to work early in the morning and not at all unless there are flowers to visit. There are over 200 species, and many are quite similar in appearance so ID-ing is hopeless. Researchers have watched them raise young, but I do not believe anyone has yet managed to video their courtship and mating. 

You can read more about orchid bees and see more photos here

Lives of Beetles

Lives of beetles. It is always nice to have photos purchased for publication. And it is especially nice when the book in question is authored by Virginia Commonwealth University Professor Arthur Evans and published by Princeton University Press. Dr. Evans is a ranking authority on Coleoptera in general and “the” authority on US beetle species. I use a couple of his excellent books regularly and highly recommend them as a source. It's a nice book to give as a gift to someone who is just getting interested in nature or wants to learn more about beetles.  It is written for the lay reader but has enough sciency stuff that any naturalist will get a lot out of it.

There are a handful of my photos in this book (not the cover shown on the left) from Costa Rica, SE Asia, and the USA.

Over the last decade or so I've attempted to build a library of arthropod, amphibian, and reptile photos that are of value to researchers, educators, publications, and users in the field of conservation. I have 10,000+ and add a few thousand each year from the tropics and the Eastern US.  Seeing them in print is always a pleasure!

“Lives of Beetles” is available from Amazon or the Princeton University Press website. I recommend you buy it before it sells out. Then buy another copy and give it to that niece or nephew who spends too much time playing video games or listening to K-pop. You may set a career path or save a mind, and you certainly won’t do any harm.

BTW, if you live in the USA and are interested in beetles, Dr. Evans’ book “Beetles of Eastern North America” is the bible of beetling in this area and essential for identifying Coleopteran friends. Buy it as a companion to “Lives of Beetles.”

Parasitic Wasps Eat Caterpillar Alive. Humans Destroy Planet.

This caterpillar has been parasitized by a wasp, and I posted this photo to Instagram some time back, where it was very popular. Here’s what I originally wrote about the caterpillar when I posted it to Instagram (slightly edited for reasons of space):

Sphinx kalmiae caterpillar. Also known as Laurel Sphinx or Fawn Sphinx Moth. ⁠⁠Here is a beautiful caterpillar that's been parasitized by a wasp. I found it a few weeks ago here in Virginia. ⁠⠀
⁠I see parasitized caterpillars frequently, but this mat of little cocoons was unlike any I'd seen. Turns out that it’s likely a wasp in the genus Microplitis. ⁠⠀
⁠The wasp laid her eggs under the skin of the caterpillar. These matured, hatched, and the larva fed on the caterpillar. They then emerged (stretch, and you can see little exit marks) and spun cocoons for themselves. They will eventually emerge from the cocoons as adult wasps. ⁠⠀
⁠The caterpillar is still alive but will not survive.⁠⠀
⁠In nature, all things are connected. The wasps evolved to take advantage of a niche where they could thrive -- provided they don't become so successful that they wipe out their host species. ⁠⠀

Why is a photo of this parasitic event more interesting to people than a picture of a weevil going about his business? Or a bee sitting on a flower?

I'm sure psychologists have studied this, and I'll bet that somewhere at the root of the human fascination with doom, disaster, misery, and mayhem is the knowledge that if the bad shit is happening to someone else (and not you), that's generally a good thing.

In other words, we look at that caterpillar and know that we will not be eaten alive from the inside by those particular wasp maggots. We can then say, "Oh, that's horrible -- the poor thing -- so glad my life is better than his!" 

Newspapers know this (if it bleeds, it leads) and plan their page layouts accordingly. 

Meanwhile, we've somehow also managed to come to terms with the fact that we are destroying our host (Planet Earth) and are making no significant steps to change our behavior. Instead, we are leaving it to future generations to cope with rising oceans, crop failures, and the extinction of large numbers of species -- you know the list. 

Olympus OM-D E-M1ii. Lens: Zuiko 60mm. TT350 Godox flash with DIY diffuser.

Where to find a matching tie?

Here's a species of orchid bee (Euglossini) from Costa Rica. 

I imagine him sitting alone on his porch sipping a martini after a long day and wondering how the heck he is going to find a tie that doesn’t clash with the rest of his outfit. 

Orchid bee, Costa Rica

The one in my photo is a male.   See the enlarged structure at the top of his hind leg? It’s there to store the volatile compounds he collects from orchids and other flowers when he visits them. His forelegs have bristles which he uses to pass the compounds back to the stash he keeps in that enlarged area.

Researchers believe these compounds are collected and stored for release during mating flights to attract females. The females apparently assess the intensity and array of compounds released by the males. This allows the female to select a mate who has a demonstrated ability to locate multiple species of orchids and other potential sources of nectar and pollen. She will mate with her choice and her offspring are more likely to inherit those skills.

Study is ongoing as researchers attempt to unravel the complex lives of these exquisite insects.

My understanding is that these bees are the exclusive pollinators for some species of orchids and pollinate many species of plants.   See more photos from La Selva here.

Macro photograph using Olympus OM-D E-M1ii. Lens: Zuiko 60mm. TT350 Godox flash with DIY diffuser.

Bald faced hornet nest (Dolichovespula maculata). Virginia.   

I noticed a small hornet nest under an overhang on my house last spring — I think it was about the size of a child’s fist. 

Bald-faced hornet nest.  The entrance is at the bottom left and bottom
right (it is cut in half.)

One day I trotted across my deck and apparently made too much noise because a couple of wasps came flying out and bumped my head.  They didn’t sting me but made it very clear that I needed to pay attention in the future. 

I walked more quietly after that and warned visitors to be careful. The nest grew to be almost exactly 10” long. (25.4cm) over the summer. 

I removed it in January once the hornets had all died (except, possibly, for a queen carrying fertile eggs who would have left the nest and found a tree hollow or similar place to overwinter.)  When I got stuck inside during a snowstorm and was desperate for something to photograph, I sliced the nest in two, and that's what you see.

These wasps are omnivores — adults may prey on other insects, scavenge dead creatures, carry away food discarded by humans, and so on. They also act as pollinators when they feed on plant nectar. The wasp’s reproductive cycle is somewhat similar to that of other social wasps and bees -- quite complicated.  Google it for a good read.

I thought the inside of the nest was interesting.  You can see the cell structure quite clearly, and it is an engineering marvel!

Shot with Olympus OM-D E-M1ii and Olympus 12-40mm. TT350 Godox flash with DIY diffuser

This is a bald-faced hornet (Dolichovespula maculata) who is not actually a hornet but a wasp.  

In my opinion, hornets are extremely handsome and it really wouldn't be fair to post a picture of a hornet nest without a picture of the hornet.  These wasps are “eusocial, " meaning they live in a colony and care for each other. It’s like a hippie commune, except the wasps work harder (actually, they work themselves pretty much to death,) and there is no sex since the queen starts the colony having mated the previous year.  As with hippies, the females do the work. 

Bald faced hornet (Dolichovespula maculata,) a wasp.

This one was collecting pollen, but these wasps have chewing mouthparts and have a varied diet that includes carrion and picnic scraps. 

I’ve not been stung by one of these (yet), but each year I come across their nests in my woods.  Luckily, they usually nest fairly high up. 

Like most wasps, they are not aggressive away from their nest — if they are feeding and you put your hand in their path, they will happily stroll across it.  

Insects don’t have a lot of cranial space, so to speak, and can only do what they are programmed to do.  For example, if you walk up to a wasp nest and bang on the side, you will trigger a defensive response, and a pack of them will come flying out and sting you — if you are sensible, you will run, but they are also programmed to chase you for a while.  

Away from the nest or hive, they have nothing to protect (except themselves) and no reason to sting; they basically ignore people unless we put our hands on them or somehow get one entangled in our hair or down a shirt.  

It is against the interests of the species to "waste” a sting on anything other than protecting themselves or future generations.   That's why swatting at wasps is a sure way to upset this apple cart, provoke an unnecessary defense reaction, and get stung.  This photo was taken with a Nikon d750 and a 105mm.  I much prefer my Olympus for this sort of photo. 

Mystery caterpillar. Spider mimicry in play?

Do you see owl-fly larvae,  spiders, or scorpions?

I found this caterpillar in the forest about 2 hours from Iquitos, Peru.  

What initially interested me were the two or three tiny insects sitting on his back (the live ones.) Caterpillars are often hosts to various parasitic wasps, and I wanted to find one depositing her eggs. I know, I know... but I've been trying to photograph a parasitic wasp in the act of ovipositing for two years. 

I've found wasps "guarding" a host, a ton of parasitized creatures, and larvae emerging from the host and spinning their cocoons — but I never actually shot a wasp laying the eggs.

Once I realized they were not wasps but flies of some kind, I took a couple of photos and moved on.  

I was also pondering the pattern on the 'pillar's back — could it mimic the form of two spiders? And would this ward off parasitic flies or wasps? 

Once home, I spent a fair amount of time trying to ID the 'pillar with no luck except that it may be in the Hesperiidae family — and that's tenuous at best. 

So I posted the pic to both iNaturalist and my Instagram account.

On IG, someone pointed out that the patterns on his back could also be interpreted as owl-fly larva -- another insect predator.  

So look at his back. Would parasitic wasps or midges be more or less likely to land on the caterpillar and lay eggs or feed on his hemolymph (blood) as it appeared the flies were doing? And why is this scheme not working? Food for thought… 

Shot in the field using Olympus OM-D E-M1ii. Lens: Zuiko 60mm. TT350 Godox flash with DIY diffuser. Species ID and fact corrections are always welcome. 

Three Virginia Salamanders

Two-lined salamander hunting on a leaf.

You can see salamanders at almost any time of year here in Virginia. 

But the best time to look for them is in the cooler months when it has been raining for afewf days.  

The species I see most frequently in the Shenandoah National Park here in Virginia are the redbacked (Plethodon cinereus), the Northern two-lined (Eurycea bislineata,) and the Northern slimy (Plethodon glutinosus.)  

"Red-backed" is a poor naming choice since their colors are highly variable, and there are threeprimaryn color schemes: A reddish-brown one, a golden brown one, and a slate-colored one. 

Slate morph of redback salamander. 

The redbacks I find vary in size from about 1.5" (unusual) to about 5" (typical). I assume the smaller ones are uncommon simply because they stay hidden. Red-backed sallies seem to like to hunt in open spaces. I've occasionally seen dozens of them on just twenty or thirty feet of trail — walk carefully on forest trails at night!
They also climb a couple of feet up the bottom of trees or onto logs and perch there, waiting for a meal.  

Two-lined sallies are a little smaller in size than redbacks and have a slightly different hunting style. They climb up onto a leaf (often near wet areas or small streams) and lie in wait for insects.

The unfortunately-named Northern slimy salamander (Plethodon glutinous.)

The slimy salamander is much larger than the red-backed or two-lined — as long as 8" or 9" in my area, although I frequently see smaller ones in the 3" to 5" range. The slime is protection against desiccation -- these salamanders don't hang out near water. They do not seem to climb, and I have seen several that stayed close to their holes. I would see them every time I walked by. Salamanders, in general, are supposed to be territorial and will argue over the square meter or so that is their domain, although I've never seen this. To me, they seem pretty indolent and unmotivated. Occasionally I've been lucky enough to find two of them courting in the spring. 

I've no way of knowing if it was the same individual (I suspect it was), but I saw one in the same hole for three consecutive years. To see more photos of amphibians from various countries, visit my website here: https://www.jeremysquire.com/Amphibian-macro-photographs-world

I don't like photographing in the rain, but it is the best time to find salamanders -- these were all shot at night with an Olympus OM-D E-M1ii, the Zuiko 60mm, and my usual DIY diffusion, and Godox flash.

Slime Mold (Protista.)

Slime mold. About 15mm tall.

Slime molds are the 2mm-10mm organisms that city folks hate to see on their mulch. 

I only "discovered" these stunningly beautiful and tiny organisms (1mm-4mm is typical) recently. They look like fungi but are off in their own evolutionary corner with an alternative lifestyle which I don't completely understand. But they provide a source of nutrition for small insects and a fun photographic diversion for those lucky enough to find them.

Wikipedia defines them as "unrelated eukaryotic organisms that can live freely as single cells but can aggregate together to form multicellular reproductive structures." 
I look for them on the sides of rotting logs, in leaf litter, among mosses, and in similar damp, poorly lit areas. Individually, these tiny organisms may only be 3mm tall, but a mass of a single species can be much larger — inches or even feet in width. On closer examination, I often spot one species and find several others nearby. I don't attempt to ID them, but slime molds have wonderful common names such as "dog vomit," "witch's butter," or "chocolate tube mold" (which I think is the one in the picture), as well as unintelligible scientific names.
This one is from the Shenandoah National Park in Virginia, but I've seen them in Malaysia, Costa Rica, and elsewhere. They love cool, moist, shaded areas.
When there aren't many insects or amphibians, I look for them. If I put a Raynox on and get some magnification, I frequently see springtails, tiny unidentifiable nymphs, small beetles, and similar creatures wandering about among the slime mold clusters. If you look at the bottom left, there's a tiny beetle. To his right, there is a pseudoscorpion. Confession: I only noticed him when looking for a photo to post here! 😂. To see more slime molds, see the gallery on my website: https://www.jeremysquire.com/Macro-photos-of-slime-mold-Protista

Olympus OM-D E-M1ii. Lens: Zuiko 60mm. TT350 Godox flash with DIY diffuser. Species ID corrections are always welcome.

The Homing Instinct

Sandhill crane, (Grus canadensis) Circle B Bar Reserve, Florida. 

I took a photo of this sandhill crane (Grus canadensis) ambling along a trail at the Circle B reserve in Florida -- which reminded me of Bernd Heinrich's wonderful book "The Homing Instinct."
He starts the book by talking about two sandhill cranes, Millie and Roy, who live in Texas or Mexico for most of the year but return each April to a specific bog near Fairbanks, Alaska.
Heinrich then proceeds to meander about the globe, through history, geology, and all manner of life forms and weaves a narrative that centers around homing instincts. The book is 300 pages and reads like a series of essays and, at times, like observation notes collected over many years of study — which it often is.
He takes us to look at colony nesting weavers in the southern Sahara, helicopters us into the otherwise inaccessible forest in Suriname, and explains honey bee nest-site selection (with mention of his bumblebee studies). He climbs trees to band baby birds, monitors "Charlotte" (a spider who shares his cabin), and records her eating and web building habits while conducting a cool experiment… and, well, you get the idea.
Heinrich does a fantastic job of translating and simplifying complicated ideas and studies. When things get complicated, he explains concepts and terms so the reader doesn't have to dive for a dictionary. I've read a couple of his other books, and I highly recommend this one!

Bernd Heinrich is a former professor of zoology and biology at the University of Vermont and author of numerous studies and other books, including "Mind of the Raven" which is also a fascinating read. "The Homing Instinct," Bernd Heinrich. Mariner Books. Buy it.

Radar Weevil!

This is the radar weevil:  (Curculio nucum) aka the acorn weevil, and the long snout tells us she is female.   

This lovely appendage is not merely an accessory to her equally lovely shoes. She will use it to build a place where her children can grow up safely, and during her spare time, she'll use it to scan the skies for high-frequency signals from alien life forms.
On the child-rearing front, she will make a hole in an acorn into which she will deposit an egg. She will then hope that nobody is looking while she seals it with her own special hole-sealing recipe, which consists mostly of feces. Seriously -- that's how they do it.

Acorn weevil (Curculio nucum.

I'm not sure how frequently she checks the skies for those signals — I'll guess she does it at night when the stars are out and the children are sleeping. I'll also guess that she occasionally picks up some dots and dashes or the distant babble of alien voices.
If you get too close to a weevil, it will likely deploy its primary defense and fall off its leaf. Very occasionally, they spread their wings as they fall and take flight -- but usually, they just plunge to the ground.
I think this is probably more effective than it sounds. In fact, I've spent a fair amount of time looking for weevils that have fallen off leaves. Once down in the leaf litter, the typical weevil is extremely hard to spot since they tend to be the same color as leaf litter. They also tuck their little legs under them and play dead.