Featured Creature: Fire Click Beetle

What tiny creature glows in the dark, digests cellulose, and can propel themselves up to 20 times their body length in the air without even using their legs?

Image: a fire click beetle; Camilo Garcia Gonzalez 
(CC BY-NC 4.0 via iNaturalist

II first discovered fire click beetles a few years ago while on a vacation to Florida in 2019. It was dark out, and my family and I sat at a firepit, joined by my younger cousins who we were visiting at the time. My brother and I had a tradition of catching fireflies, so we took our cousins to a grassy lawn bordered by trees and tall grasses on the other side of our hotel. Fireflies were dancing around in the air, and we had a lot of fun chasing them. I saw a light coming from the grass, and went towards it, thinking that trapping a firefly from below would be easier than jumping for one as it flew past me. I parted the grass to take a look, and saw that the glowing light wasn’t from a firefly at all! 

At the time, I didn’t know that there were insects other than fireflies that could glow, much to my surprise. It was shinier than a firefly, without the characteristic red-yellow head, and the greenish glow was coming from two spots that looked like eyes! I didn’t try to pick it up, because I wasn’t sure if it would bite me, and instead went to share this unexpected finding with my parents. When I brought them over to see, it had disappeared. Later (with the help of Google, of course) I found out it was a click beetle; specifically, a fire click beetle (genus Pyrophorus). I had never seen one before. As someone who loves entomology, I started to read more, and I found them to be fascinating! Let’s take a look at what makes fire click beetles so unique.

Bioluminescence

As you know, fireflies are able to produce light, and fire click beetles are able to as well. Within an insect, the front section is the head, the middle section is the thorax, and the back portion is the abdomen. Pyrophorus has two glowing spots on its thorax, near the head. This beetle also has a spot underneath its abdomen, which is only visible when a beetle opens its wings to fly. These spots can glow yellow or green, and unlike fireflies, don’t really turn on and off. Fireflies can flash their lights at will, but fire click beetles cannot. These beetles can only control the brightness of their light at a given moment, changing intensity to adapt to the present environment and conditions. Fire click beetle eggs, larvae, and pupae glow, too!

Image: a fire click beetle with spread wings; Leonardo Adrián LEIVA (CC BY-NC 4.0 via iNaturalist)

Fireflies and fire click beetles produce their light in the same way: a chemical reaction. Both creatures have glowing “light organs”, which have special cells that contain a molecule called luciferin. Luciferin is stable by itself, but if it breaks down in a certain way, the energy within the molecule is released as light. Enzymes help break this chemical down using oxygen; the main enzyme involved is called luciferase (the suffix -ase means that it breaks down its namesake chemical, luciferin). 

Interestingly, fireflies and fire click beetles have varying genes for luciferase. Since enzymes are coded for by DNA, scientists were able to compare the genes of the two insects to see the similarities and differences. The DNA turned out to differ significantly! This result indicates that these two insects did not get their bioluminescence in the same way, since there isn’t a common ancestor that passed the ability down. Each evolved to have bioluminescence separately, and it ended up working the same way. It’s no surprise that luciferins are one of the most efficient ways to create light!

Image: a fire click beetle showing off its mesosternal lip;
Janet Guardiola (CC BY-NC 4.0 via iNaturalist, image is rotated)

On a side note, the word “luciferin” has no direct correlation with the devil; lucifer is a Latin word meaning “light-bearing”. Luciferin, which produces light, was named by adding the suffix “-in”, which is commonly used for many molecules and compounds.

Clicking Powers

Click beetles (family Elateridae) – believe it or not – can click! They get their name from a loud and sharp snap they can produce. This sound is produced through a latch mechanism, where they build up energy that suddenly releases, propelling themselves in the air and releasing a click. It works kind of like snapping your fingers; when you press your fingers together, the friction between your fingertips keeps them from moving until enough energy has built up that it overcomes resistance, and your finger slips, making a snapping sound. Click beetles have a little notch at the base of their thorax that acts as a hinge; when they bend backwards, the notch slips into a latch that holds it in place. When they try to bend forwards, the pressure builds up until it, metaphorically, explodes.

Now, in your case, your middle finger (or whatever finger you use to snap), slips fast and hits your palm. Click beetles don’t have a release like this; instead, the force flings their whole body into the air (given how small they are, this doesn’t actually take that much energy; they’re usually only about an inch long). They can go up around twenty times their body length, and one species, Athous haemorrhoidalis, can “jump” up to a foot in the air

This motion only works when the beetles are on their back. If they were standing normally, they would technically be propelled down into the ground. They use this technique to flip themselves over when they are stuck on their back. At the same time, if the beetle is in danger, it could also be used to get up and away from a predator much faster than if they tried to fly. 

Fire click beetles have no extra mechanism for making sure they land right-side–up; most animals, if they fall, are able to at least somewhat orient themselves in the air. Fire click beetles, and most insects, cannot. Still, they land right-side-up 2 out of 3 times. How? Well, it is actually quite simple – they act like a weighted coin. Their underside is much heavier than their top, since their exoskeleton there is thicker and denser. Therefore,  when they are falling, their bottom side tends to go first, and ends up below, where it belongs. Of course, this is not a foolproof method, as they still land upside down a third of the time. In that case, they can just do it again! 

Why don’t fire click beetles get hurt when they fall? When they’re in the air, they accelerate very fast, up to 300 times the force of gravity. That’s fast enough to kill a human, but the beetles are not injured at all – with the capacity to crawl and fly immediately. This ability is a result of their hard exoskeleton that protects them on the outside, and their soft tissue inside, which is designed to absorb impact to avoid internal damage. Coupled with their size, this structure allows most smaller insects to survive their terminal velocity. This means that, if you dropped one from as high as an airplane, it would survive the fall! (risks from air pressure, wind speed, or an unlucky bird encounter notwithstanding).

Image: a fire click beetle; Aacocucci (CC BY 2.0 via iNaturalist)

Role in the ecosystem

Fire click beetle larvae live in soil or decaying wood, where they feed on a mix of decomposing plant material and small invertebrates. In this way, they help recycle nutrients in their ecosystems. Adults of some click beetle species feed on pollen, nectar, and occasionally soft-bodied insects, though the diet of Pyrophorus adults is bit less well documented.

It’s worth talking here about cellulose, for a minute, a carbohydrate found in the lining of plant cells. Cellulose is one of the main “leftover” materials that needs to be broken down in the environment, since other animals only tend to digest proteins, lipids, and certain carbohydrates. Cows, for example, also have the right enzymes and gut microbes to digest cellulose; that’s why they can rely on grass as a food source, unlike humans. In our diets, cellulose is typically a fiber; we do not get energy from it, but it helps us in other ways (including helping digestion go smoothly, and helping diversify our gut microbes). However, these beetles are believed to tolerate and digest cellulose rather easily.

Since fire click beetles often eat pollen and plant matter, warm, leafy areas like the tropics, subtropics, and temperate regions are a favorite. They can be found in Central and South America, as well as the surrounding islands. They can even be found as far north as Mexico or, rarely, southern US, although they have recently been disappearing from there, along with many other insects in the area. Habitat loss and deforestation, pesticide and herbicide use, and temperature and precipitation variations due to climate change are some of the major contributors to fire click beetle disappearance. These beetles are usually referred to as cocuyos in areas south of Florida.

Also, remember when I mentioned aphids before? Some fire click beetle adults eat them, as well as other soft-bodied pests. This predator-prey relationship keeps aphid populations in check. Other species play a role in managing fire click beetle populations, such as large insects, moles and shrews, and some birds, which are all common predators of Pyrophorus

 Every species in an ecosystem has a specific role to play in the flow of energy and cycling of nutrients. Some of the main roles in a food web are producers, consumers, and decomposers. If any of these groups become too abundant or too small, the ecosystem might become unstable. A trophic cascade is a series of impactful and often harmful effects in a food web caused by a change in one of the populations in the ecosystem; the addition or removal of just one species causes the entire thing to fall apart. 

For example, if most of the fire click beetles in a certain environment suddenly died, aphid populations could grow exponentially. This action could cause other harmful effects, starting with the death of plants that the aphids feed on. Animals that feed on the click beetles might also decrease in size, as they would lack this creature as a food source. In turn, other species those animals eat would increase in size, and the ecosystem would become unstable. 

These potential consequences present the main reasons why it’s concerning that these beetles, and other insects and animals, are disappearing from certain locations. Climate change and human activities are causing ecosystem instability at much faster rates than usual, which puts environments at risk.

The potential for this kind of ecosystem collapse is part of the reason why invasive species or endangered species are such a big deal. Ecosystems are interconnected, and the  presence or absence of a given species has the power to entirely change or destroy how other organisms interact with the environment.

I hope you’ve learned a little about a fascinating tiny insect that I love, and their weird features like bioluminescence and clicking. I also hope you’re more knowledgeable about the important roles species play, which are often critical to maintaining a stable ecosystem. Decomposers and little critters that feed in the soil are necessary for the flow of energy and nutrient cycling through an ecosystem. Consumers, like the adults, help keep populations in check and maintain a balance between different species. 

I hope this introduction to the fire click beetle encourages us to dive into any curiosities we have, like I did with these beetles. I also hope that this reflection helps us become more aware of the natural world and our place in it,  and consider how we affect other species and individuals in our ecosystem. 


Anya Reddy is a high school student at Blue Valley North. She loves biology and biochemistry, as well as entomology, ecology, and environmental science in general. Some of Anya’s non-science passions include archery and all kinds of 2D and 3D art. She enjoys learning about all kinds of organisms and how they connect and interact with others in their environment; she hopes to use writing to help share fascinating details about them, helping others like the weird and interesting organisms she loves.


Dig Deeper

Featured Creature: Fireflies

I flicker and float in warm evening air,
Like nature’s own fireworks, more care than scare.
No sound, just light as I drift and play
What glowing insect lights up your way?

Fireflies in upstate New York
Image credit: Alexandra Ionescue

Fireflies

We’re doing Featured Creature a little differently this week. Instead of a written piece, we’re publishing this conversation between Adrianna Drindak (Science Communications Intern) and Brendan Kelly (Communications Manager), with media and contextual commentary from Alexandra Ionescu (Associate Director of Regenerative Projects). 

Brendan

Hi Adrianna.

Adrianna

Hi Brendan.

Brendan

So, Alexandra Ionescu had this idea of exploring fireflies for Featured Creature this weekend. It’s obviously Fourth of July in the United States and we typically celebrate with fireworks, and she made this great observation from the woods in Upstate NY, about fireflies being nature’s fireworks, and I thought that was so great and left open so much room to explore not just the ecology and biochemistry, but also I think our collective childlike awe and fascination with them.

Alexandra

Exactly! Thank you both and I’m so bummed I have to miss the rest of this conversation, but yes I wanted to give a little more context.

This summer I shared a really beautiful moment with my dad while he was visiting from abroad.

I took him to one of my favorite spots in Upstate NY near my husband’s parents house to see the beavers. We went at dusk and were able to catch a beaver and a few tail slabs. It was nearly dark by this point and the path back to the car cut through the forest. And what unraveled was this beautiful transition from being in the presence of a beaver and observing its movement through the water, and then walking back to the car through the dark forest.

Except, it wasn’t.

The forest was lit up by probably thousands of fireflies. Wherever you looked you could see them flickering and communicating and signaling. There were rhythms and waves of dots and points and flashes of light dancing all around us.

And it’s fascinating to realize that firefly season coincides with the 4th of July, especially if we think of fireflies as nature’s own fireworks. (Only, it happens through chemistry, with absolutely no sound the human ear can detect, and no pollution.)

How does nature illuminate, versus how humans illuminate?

Maybe it all comes down to an intentionality of being—one that respects the web of life, that practices co-existence, where illumination doesn’t disturb the ways of other beings, but coexists alongside them—through silence, wavelengths, and chemistry.

So I invite everyone this weekend—and beyond—instead of going to see the violent, explosive fireworks, the human–made fireworks, go see nature’s own fireworks instead.

By Alexandra Ionescu

Brendan

Thanks Alex, that’s such a beautiful way to set course for this conversation and our hope is to circle back around to some of those themes by the end. Okay, Adrianna, what do we know about fireflies?

Adrianna

Thanks Alex! Yes, let’s talk about fireflies. Or lightening bugs, depending on where you live or grew up.

Brendan

I was raised in Kansas, they’ve always been lightening bugs to me.

Adrianna

As a New Englander, it’s fireflies.

Brendan

Agree to disagree.

Adrianna

Sure. So this probably won’t come as a surprise to anyone, but fireflies are unique in that they are one of the few organisms that are able to produce their own light.

Brendan

You’re talking about bioluminescence?

Adrianna

That’s right, bioluminescence. Oxygen inside the firefly’s light organ, or lantern, mixes with three other components: adenosine triphosphate (ATP), a molecule called luciferin and the enzyme luciferase. And researchers believe that different fireflies can give off different intensities of light that they’re producing based on the level of oxygen that’s being supplied to the light organ, to the lantern.

During that reaction, nearly all the energy is released as light, not heat. It’s one of the most energy-efficient light sources in nature.

Brendan

That’s really neat. I’m reading right now that they’ve even inspired energy-saving LED technologies. If Alex was still here I think she’d have a lot to say about biomimicry!

I see that one way LED designers have drawn from fireflies is by adding microscopic surface structures that help light escape more efficiently. In most LEDs, those structures are symmetrical, but fireflies have asymmetric, angled microstructures on their lanterns. This boosts light output in two ways: First, the greater surface area increases light interaction, so less of it gets trapped. And second, the uneven angles scatter the light more randomly, giving it more chances to exit. It’s really clever. I’ll send you the article. The close-up images are wild.

Adrianna

And kind of like how you can buy different color LEDs, there are different colors of light amongst fireflies.

Brendan

Oh, interesting. Is it involuntary? I was reading about how, we can get into this in a second, but how the light is used to signal and communicate, where males will have their own flash patterns and specific sequences. So is what you’re talking about the mechanism by which that is controlled or are we talking about two separate things?

Adrianna

We’re talking about two separate things. Oxygen and chemical regulation can vary between species, which is why you get different colors and hues of light from different species of firefly. Separately, yes, each firefly can control the sequence of signals it sends.

But, it’s important to note that some firefly species are active during the day instead of at night. They don’t produce light, so instead of flashing, they communicate using pheromones.

Brendan

Yeah, I saw something similar in a recent report, just a couple years old. So…what do you call a lightning bug that doesn’t light up? Just a bug?

Adrianna

Well, technically fireflies aren’t bugs; they’re beetles.

Brendan

I’ll be honest I’m not entirely sure where that leaves us.

Adrianna

Communication.

Brendan

Right. One of my more recent feature creature articles was about African gray parrots and I focused pretty much exclusively on the communication aspect because what I love about those birds is that their vocalizations are hyperlocal and they have their own dialects based on where they live in the forest. Almost like accents. And it almost seems like there’s a similar phenomenon going on here with this sort of language of light.

Photo by Jud McCranie. Butler Island Plantation, Georgia

Adrianna

Yes! There are around 2,000 species of fireflies, which is wild to think about. When multiple species live in the same area, they each occupy a specific “signaling niche.” That means they might share habitats, but they’ll come out at different times of night, and they use distinct flash patterns to communicate. So even if they’re in the same place, they’re not getting their signals crossed, each species is speaking its own visual language, on its own schedule.

Brendan

That’s such a cool thing to know. If you’re observing fireflies in your backyard or local area, you can probably start to notice patterns, like what time they come out, how they flash. And then maybe when you’re somewhere else in the summer, you could compare what you’re seeing and pick up on the differences. I’m not sure if there’s a whole firefly-watching community out there like birders, but it’s fun to think about!

I was reading that the whole thing is kind of like a dance, at least when it comes to mating. The males are the ones flying around, flashing their little signals like peacocks, trying to get attention. The females stay on the ground or in low vegetation, and if they spot a male they like, they flash back. That’s how they find each other and connect.

Adrianna

That’s right. The male sends a flash of light and then the female will see the signal from a male of her species, and they communicate and find each other. They navigate their way towards each other through those sequences of flashes.

Brendan

It’s almost melancholy though because when you see them you get excited but they’re at the end of their life basically if you see them flying around flashing, right?

Adrianna

Yep. I’m looking at a diagram now and they are eggs for about 3 weeks, in their larva stage for about one to two years, in their pupa stage for about three weeks, and then they’re adults for only three to four weeks.

Brendan

Okay now I read this in a few reports so I have a degree of confidence about it. In some species, like Photuris fireflies, the females will actually mimic the flash patterns of a different firefly species to lure in unsuspecting males. The male thinks he’s found a mate, but when he arrives, it’s a total bait-and-switch…she eats him instead. It’s a wild example of aggressive mimicry.

Adrianna

That’s crazy.

Brendan

Yeah. Who knew the life of the lightening bug could be so hostile. But I guess on that point, it can be a hostile life!

Adrianna

It can, for sure. I came across a recent Penn State project studying threats to fireflies, and one key point was how climate change is affecting their development. For many U.S. species, the seasonal temperature patterns they rely on (warmer summers and cooler winters) are shifting. Unseasonal heat or cold can disrupt their life cycles. Changing rainfall patterns are also a problem: both droughts and flooding can interfere with firefly development at different stages.

Brendan

That makes sense. Fireflies usually need some level of moisture, so drier conditions are definitely a concern. But the issue of light pollution stood out to me. As cities expand and the night gets brighter, the bioluminescent signals fireflies use to find mates can get drowned out. If the flashing is less visible, then males and females may just miss each other altogether.

It’s a reminder that habitat isn’t just about physical space, it’s also about light, temperature, and other environmental cues that species depend on.

Adrianna

Definitely. I’ve never lived in a city before and I think it’s been really interesting for me to notice those kinds of changes and to think about those kinds of shifts in what organisms I’m seeing and which organisms I’m not seeing. I was just home last weekend in upstate New York like Alexandra, and we were walking in the woods and there were fireflies everywhere. And then I come back to D.C., where I’m living this summer, and it’s just very different.

Brendan

I didn’t see many fireflies when I lived in D.C. either, and I think that makes sense. When you’re out of the city, you can look up and see the stars clearly. But in the city, even on a clear night, you look up and the stars are hidden by all the light. And I think it’s probably the same for fireflies. To our eyes, a star and a firefly are about the same size. If we can’t see the stars, we’re not going to see the lightning bugs either. And more importantly, they might not see each other.

I’m sure pesticides are a factor too, but light pollution alone feels like a big deal.

Photo by Bernd Thaller. Graz, Austria

Brendan

Bringing this full circle, I’ve been thinking about how deeply embedded fireflies are in our collective memory, especially for those of us who grew up in suburban or rural areas in the U.S. They’re not like pets, exactly, but I’d still put them up there with cats and dogs in terms of how familiar and emotionally resonant they are. Almost everyone seems to have a memory: running barefoot through the yard at dusk, chasing little flashes of light, maybe at a cookout or camping trip. All of mine are social. Playing with friends, watching them float above the grass while the adults talked nearby. Even now, fireflies still feel special. You can’t be alone in the woods at night if there are fireflies all around.

There’s something about them that’s instantly nostalgic. Mention catching one in a jar and people don’t need an explanation…they just nod, like, “Yeah, I remember that.”

Adrianna

Yeah, and going back to how Alex opened this conversation with that contrast between fireflies and fireworks. On one hand, you’ve got fireflies, which have this quiet, calming, joyful presence. And then on the other, fireworks, which are loud and disruptive to so many living things. It’s just a really different kind of relationship you can have with each of them.


Adrianna Drindak is a rising senior at Dartmouth College studying Environmental Earth Sciences and Environmental Studies. Prior to interning at Bio4Climate, she worked as a field technician studying ovenbirds at Hubbard Brook Experimental Forest and as a laboratory technician in an ecology lab. Adrianna is currently an undergraduate researcher in the Quaternary Geology Lab at Dartmouth, with a specific focus on documenting climate history and past glaciations in the northeast region of the United States. This summer, Adrianna is looking forward to applying her science background to an outreach role, and is excited to brainstorm ways to make science more accessible. In her free time, Adrianna enjoys reading, baking gluten free treats, hiking, and backpacking.

Alexandra Ionescu is a Certified Biomimicry Professional, Ecological Artist and 2024 SUGi Fellow. Her aim is to inspire learning from and about diverse non-human intelligences, cultivating propensities for ecosystem regeneration through co-existence, collaboration and by making the invisible visible. She hopes to motivate others to ask “How can humans give back to the web of life?” by raising awareness of biodiversity and natural cycles to challenge human-centric infrastructures. At present, Alexandra is immersed in expanding her knowledge of ecological restoration through Miyawaki forests, beaver-engineered landscapes, and constructed floating wetlands. In her spare time, Alexandra is part of the Below and Above Collective, an interdisciplinary group that combines art with ecological functionality to build constructed floating wetlands. 

Brendan Kelly began his career teaching conservation education programs at the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium before relocating to Washington, DC. Since then, he has spent a decade as a journalist and policy communications strategist, designing and driving narratives for an array of political, advocacy, and institutional campaigns, including in the renewable energy and sustainable architecture spaces. Most recently before joining Bio4Climate, Brendan was working in tech, helping early and growth stage startups tell their stories and develop industry thought leadership. He is interested in how the intersection of informal education, mass communications and marketing can be retooled to drive relatable, accessible climate action. While he loves all ecosystems equally, he is admittedly partial to those in the alpine.  



Featured Creature: Macrotermes Termites

What is the second most consumed insect group in the world (by humans) that can build nests with heights up to 9 meters (29.5 feet) and has a symbiotic relationship with fungi?

Macrotermes carbonarius (Image Credit: Soh Kam Yung via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC))

As a featured creature writer for Bio4Climate, I try to read through as many of our published pieces as possible, even those that pre-date my tenure. It’s a tall order, there are so many! Hidden alongside the grand humpback whale, the impressionable Pando, and the beautiful luna moth, I found Fred Jennings’ piece on the zombie ant fungus: an unpleasant looking insect-pathogenic fungus that attaches to ants’ exoskeletons and takes over their bodies from the inside out. It was a little grotesque, a little unsettling, and completely and utterly fascinating. 

I’ve been wanting to write about a creature that doesn’t usually make the highlight reel…something easy to overlook, but essential in its own way. My hope is to inspire curiosity (and appreciation) for the parts of nature that don’t always fit our ideas of beauty.

More Than Just Pests

When I think of termites I think about how people, especially homeowners, consider them pests. One of the first links that pops up in an online search for the word termites is the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency’s guide for how to identify and control them. But just as it’s unfair to call sloths lazy simply because they move slowly, it’s unfair to define termites only by their “pest” status. They weren’t ever “pests” until we made them so. 

Macrotermes vitrialatus (Image Credit: Craig Peter via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC))

Macrotermes are fungus-growing termites that reside in tropical regions of Africa and Asia. These insects are larger than other common termites, the largest of all 330 species being the Macrotermes bellicosus, with queens reaching over four inches in length! Most of these bugs are dark brown, with some exceptions like the Macrotermes carbonarius, which are entirely black, and the Macrotermes gilvus, which have orange/red-brown heads.

Termites are a valuable part of many ecosystems. Like fungi, bacteria, and detritivores like millipedes, they decompose dead plant material, modifying the physical and chemical distribution of the soil. Creatures like termites restore soil that’s been degraded and play a key role in cellulose recycling, breaking down plants, wood, and paper into smaller molecules other organisms can use, and returning nutrients to the ecosystem. But, these termites are pretty special for a reason other than their role as ecosystem engineers.

Teamwork Makes the Colony Work

Macrotermes thrive thanks to teamwork, and a symbiotic partnership with a fungus that shares their life cycle. It’s remarkable that these termites (just like other creature populations) cooperate so well in such large numbers. Macrotermes colonies have a highly organized social system in which each insect has a role that makes life efficient and successful: workers gather food and build and maintain the nest/mound, soldiers use their strong jaws to protect the colony from predators like ants, and the queen and king reproduce. This social complexity is mirrored by the colony’s architecture. 

Macrotermes carbonarius (Image Credit: Dirk Mezger via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC))

Termite mounds aren’t just shelters, they’re marvels of natural engineering. Built with purpose, these architectural feats regulate temperature and humidity to create the ideal environment for the termite’s fungal partner, Termitomyces, to grow. After foraging for wood or dead plant material, Macrotermes workers masticate and deposit it in chambers inside their nest, producing the perfect substrate for fungus to grow into a comb. Macrotermes cultivate these fungus gardens and feed on them while the fungus degrades plant material, resulting in a continuous supply of food for the termites. To stimulate the right conditions for Termitomyces to grow, macrotermes build their nests with air ducts and ventilation systems. As the fungus produces heat in the nest, workers can open or block individual tunnels that lead to the surface to regulate temperature and humidity. These structures are built to various heights, with some only one foot tall while exceptional ones can rise more than 30 feet. 

Macrotermes and Humans

Macrotermes termites are an important edible insect widely consumed throughout Africa, along with their fungus gardens. People use the bugs, mushrooms, and termite soil in medicinal practices. The soil can be used as fertilizer or as building material to make bricks and plaster houses. These insects are also used as bait and feed for livestock. Alongside these uses, macrotermes termites have a role in superstitious beliefs, their nests serving as burying places associated with the spiritual world.

Outside their habitat in urban environments, most macrotermes are unable to survive, so they aren’t considered pests like other termites because they don’t cause as much damage to wood structures like homes and buildings. In contrast, macrotermes can pose threats to agriculture by directly consuming crops, roots, and stems of plants. But, like nearly every other creature in the natural world, these bugs don’t live without some challenges of their own.

The largest threat to termites is changes in land use; particularly transitions to organized orchards and more intensified agricultural practices. As ecosystem engineers that contribute directly to the nutrient makeup of the soil in their ecosystem, the changes in land use can have damaging effects on the landscape and organisms throughout the food cycle.

Macrotermes carbonarius (Image Credit: budak via iNaturalist (CC-BY-NC)) 

Nature deserves to be seen in its full complexity, not just through the lens of what we find beautiful, helpful, scary, or annoying. When we only celebrate the vibrant colors, graceful shapes, or soothing sounds, we risk overlooking the strange, the hidden, and the essential. 


Abigail Gipson is an environmental advocate with a bachelor’s degree in humanitarian studies from Fordham University. Working to protect the natural world and its inhabitants, Abigail is specifically interested in environmental protection, ecosystem-based adaptation, and the intersection of climate change with human rights and animal welfare. She loves autumn, reading, and gardening. 




Dig Deeper


Featured Creature: Cicada

What insect spends years hidden underground, preparing for a brief but spectacular emergence into the sunlight, filling the air with the deafening, iconic song of summer?

The cicada (Cicadoidea)!

Sub Alpine Green Cicada (Image Credit: Julie via iNaturalist)

Every time I return to the south of France, there’s one sound that immediately signals to me that summer has arrived—the unmistakable hum of cicadas. Their chorus, loud and unrelenting, fills the air in the warm Mediterranean heat and acts as a personal cue to pause, take a breath, and unwind. For me, it’s not just the start of summer; it’s the sound of nostalgia, the reminder of countless days spent hiking through the pine forests, picnicking under the shade of olive trees, or simply soaking in peaceful serenity at the beach. The cicadas’ song is always complemented by the sweet, earthy smell of ripening figs. It’s a sensory symphony that epitomizes the region’s charm. 

These moments, marked by the rhythmic buzz of cicadas, offer a unique connection to nature—one that I’ve come to cherish as a deeply rooted part of my experience in the region. The cicadas’ song is a call to slow down, reconnect, and embrace the simple beauty of life in the south of France. 

As much as these personal experiences have shaped my connection to cicadas, there’s so much more to learn about these fascinating creatures. From their complex life cycles to the essential roles they play in ecosystems around the world, cicadas are much more than the soundtrack of summer.

The Backstory

If the name “cicada” doesn’t quite ring a bell, you might recognize it from Animal Crossing. It’s a common insect that players can encounter in the game. 

Cicadas are the loudest insect species in the world, known for their buzzing and clicking noises, typically sung during the day. This song, produced by males to attract females, is a highly specialized mating call. Each species of cicada has its own unique variation, which is genetically inherited rather than learned, unlike the calls of other animals such as birds. Some cicada species, like the double drummer, even group together to amplify their calls, deterring predatory birds by overwhelming them with noise. Others adapt by singing at dusk, avoiding the attention of daytime predators. 

If you’re curious about the fascinating science behind how cicadas create their iconic sound and want to dive deeper into their unique anatomy, I highly recommend checking out the following video. It’s a captivating look at how these incredible insects make their music!

But there’s more to cicadas than their songs. If you’ve ever tried to catch one, you might have discovered their quirky behavior firsthand—cicadas pee when they fly! This “cicada rain” is simply their way of excreting excess liquid after consuming large amounts of plant sap. While it’s harmless, it’s something to keep in mind if you’re ever under a tree full of buzzing cicadas—or reaching out to grab one! 

With more than 3,000 species worldwide, cicadas are primarily found in temperate and tropical climates, avoiding regions with extreme cold. Their life cycle consists of three stages: egg, nymph, and adult. After hatching, nymphs burrow underground and feed on plant root sap for years before emerging, molting, and transforming into adults. 

Watching a cicada emerge from its nymphal shell is like witnessing a miniature metamorphosis in real-time—its delicate wings unfurling as it prepares to take flight. If you’ve never seen this magical process, here’s a fascinating video that brings it to life. 

While most species are annual cicadas, emerging every year, some, like the periodical cicadas of North America, emerge every 13 or 17 years. These synchronized groups are referred to as “broods.” A brood consists of all the cicadas of the same lifecycle group that emerge in a specific year within a particular geographical area. This classification system helps scientists and enthusiasts track and study the various populations of periodical cicadas. 

These mass events, involving millions of cicadas, are a marvel of nature and the unique cycle remains a topic of scientific curiosity. In exceptionally rare cases, two different broods can emerge simultaneously, creating a spectacle of overlapping generations. This video explains more about these extraordinary dual emergence events and why they capture the fascination of entomologists and nature enthusiasts alike.

Showstoppers: Stunning Species from Around the World

Across the globe, these fascinating insects showcase an incredible range of colors, patterns, and sizes, rivaling even the most vibrant creatures of the animal kingdom. Here’s a look at some standout species that prove cicadas are as much visual marvels as they are auditory icons:

Cicadas vs. Locusts: Clearing Up the Confusion 

Cicadas are often mistaken for locusts, a confusion that dates back to early European colonists who likened the sudden mass emergence of cicadas to the biblical plagues of locusts. However, cicadas and locusts are very different insects with distinct behaviors and ecological impacts.

Locusts, a type of grasshopper, are infamous for forming destructive swarms that can devastate crops and vegetation, causing severe agricultural damage. In contrast, cicadas do not consume foliage in a way that harms plants or crops. While their synchronized emergences can be dramatic, cicadas are not considered pests and pose no threat to agriculture. 

Cicadas’ Impact: How They Shape the Ecosystem

Cicadas play a crucial role in maintaining ecosystem balance at every stage of their life cycle. During their subterranean nymph stage, they engage in burrowing activities that profoundly impact soil structure and health. By creating tunnels, they aerate the soil, facilitating root respiration and improving water infiltration, which enhances soil moisture distribution. Their burrowing also redistributes nutrients, mixing organic matter and minerals from different soil layers, which boosts soil fertility and supports plant growth. 

These tunnels also provide microhabitats for other soil organisms, such as insects, microorganisms, and invertebrates, fostering biodiversity. Upon their emergence, adult cicadas become a vital food source for various predators, such as birds, mammals, and reptiles, boosting the survival and reproduction of these species. 

When cicadas die, their decomposing bodies enrich the soil with nutrients, stimulating microbial activity and increasing the diversity of soil microarthropod communities (Microarthropods are like miniature insects such as springtails or soil mites). This nutrient flux improves plant productivity and even impacts the dynamics of woodland ponds and streams, underscoring their importance in nutrient cycling.

Cicadas as Ecological Signals: What They Tell Us About Nature

Cicadas are valuable bioindicators, reflecting the health of their environments. As root feeders, their abundance can tell us a lot about the integrity of root systems and the availability of water and nutrients. Cicadas also require well-structured, uncompacted soil to create their burrows, making their presence an indicator of healthy soil conditions. 

The Cicada-MET protocol, which involves counting cicada exuviae (shed skins), offers a standardized method to assess environmental quality. Additionally, acoustic methods to analyze their songs are used to study the impacts of disturbances like wildfires and can guide conservation strategies.

Challenges Facing Cicadas: The Threats to Their Survival

Cicadas face various threats that jeopardize their populations and the ecosystems they support. Habitat loss due to urbanization is a significant challenge, as forests and grasslands are replaced with buildings and infrastructure, reducing the availability of suitable

environments for their life cycles. Planting native trees, preserving green spaces, and advocating for wildlife-friendly urban planning are simple but effective ways to help restore their habitats. For example, oak, pine, and olive trees in Mediterranean areas, or sycamore and dogwood in North America, are ideal choices. Climate change is another major threat, particularly in regions like Provence, where extreme heat waves can suppress cicada singing and disrupt mating behaviors, potentially forcing them to migrate to cooler areas, altering both new ecosystems and those they leave behind.. Additionally, some cicada species are vulnerable to invasive pathogens, such as fungi like Massospora cicadina, which manipulate their behavior and spread infections. While this fungus predominantly affects periodical cicadas, similar threats could arise for other species. If you have the opportunity, I would recommend participating in citizen science projects to report sightings of infected cicadas and track population health.

A Month of Delight

Cicadas have a way of sparking curiosity and creativity in those who encounter them. Whether it’s collecting their delicate, shed exoskeletons to study, transforming them into art, or pausing to listen to their summer chorus, these insects invite us to engage more deeply with the natural world. By paying closer attention to creatures like cicada’s, we can gain a greater appreciation for their fascinating life cycles, and develop a stronger connection to the ecosystem that sustains them. 

Naturalist Jean-Henri Fabre once said, “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 for the noisy triumph of his song.” By understanding and appreciating these extraordinary creatures, we can ensure their songs—and the inspiration they bring—continue to resonate for generations to come.

Lakhena


Lakhena Park holds degrees in Public Policy and Human Rights Law but has recently shifted her focus toward sustainability, ecosystem restoration, and regenerative agriculture. Passionate about reshaping food systems, she explores how agroecology and land management practices can restore biodiversity, improve soil health, and build resilient communities. She is currently preparing to pursue a Permaculture Design Certificate (PDC) to deepen her understanding of regenerative practices. Fun fact: Pigs are her favorite farm animal—smart, playful, and excellent at turning soil, they embody everything she loves about regenerative farming.


Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: Leafcutter Bee

What creature carves out little pieces of tree leaves to build its nest inside hollow stems?

The Leafcutter Bee!

Bernhard Plank – SiLencer (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

Known scientifically as Megachile (genus), leafcutter bees account for 1,500 of the world’s 20,000 bee species. I first noticed the work of leafcutter bees in my own backyard two years ago. First, you notice the “leaf damage” of the leafcutter bee. 

Here is the “leaf damage” on a pin oak seedling. 

The leaf damage takes the form of neat little curves. I recognized these neat little curves from having perused Bees: An Identification and Native Plant Foraging Guide, by Heather Holm, an author whose work I highly recommend. 

In June of this year, I was fortunate enough to capture a leafcutter bee on video doing her work. I’ll show you the video below, but first … 

How can we coexist with critters who are “harming” our plants?

It is said, “If nothing is eating your garden, then your garden is not part of the ecosystem.” If you want your garden to be part of the ecosystem, then some of it will become food for other critters. Some of my leaves will become food for leafcutter bees. But then the leafcutter bees will pollinate my wildflowers and my vegetables, making it possible for them to bear seed and fruit. I am happy to make this trade-off, plus I want my garden to feed all of the living species, not just us humans.

How do leafcutter bees differ from honeybees?

Honeybees are the most famous bees. And who doesn’t like honey? But honeybees are only one species out of 20,000 worldwide.  

Honeybees are social. So they live cooperatively in hives. But most bees are solitary, including leafcutter bees. They interact only in mating. And then they make their nests and lay their eggs in a nest that could be in the ground, or in a rotting tree or in the hollow stem of a dead wildflower.

The North American continent is home to 150 of the world’s 1,500 species of leafcutter bees. Honeybees originate from Europe; they are not native to North America. 

An “unarmed leafcutting bee” from my backyard

Here is a video of an “unarmed leafcutter bee” in my backyard, cutting the leaf off a pin oak seedling. This female uses her strong mandibles (jaws) to carve out a piece of a pin oak leaf to build her nest. Notice how quickly and efficiently she does this work.

How do I know this is a female? Because only the females build nests. The males die shortly after mating. 

As soon as she is done cutting off the piece of leaf, she carries it back to the nest. The female nibbles the edges of the leaves so they’ll be pulpy and stick together to provide the structure for the nest.

Where is she building a nest? 

She may build her nest in the hollow stem of a dead wildflower stalk, such as ironweed or goldenrod. She may build her nest in a dead tree. (Forest ecologists say that a dead tree is at least as valuable as a live tree, because so many critters make their nests in them.) Or she may build it in the ground. Nests also include cavities in rocks and abandoned mud dauber nests (Holm, 2017).

Here is the nest of a ground-nesting bee. In this case, it may or may not be a leafcutter bee.

If we leave bare spots on the ground, then this becomes a potential nesting site for ground nesting bees, including some leafcutter bees.

What purposes do the leaves serve?

Leaves prevent desiccation (drying out) of the food supply. The leaves typically include antimicrobial properties, preventing the nest from being infected.

Inside a nest, cells are arranged in a single long column. The female constructs each cell with leaf pieces, placing an egg along with pollen mixed with nectar, enough food for the bee to grow to adulthood, before leaving the nest.

In the fall, the larvae hatches from the egg, eats the nectar and pollen, and gains enough energy to grow through several stages, called instars. But it does not yet leave the nest. In the spring, the larvae pupates and becomes an adult, finally crawling out of the nest.

In the eastern U.S., common nesting materials include rose, ash, redbud and St. John’s wort. See below for photos from my home landscape showing the work of leafcutter bees on my pin oak, silver maple and jewelweed.

Where do leafcutter bees gather pollen and nectar?

Heather Holm, author of Bees: An Identification and Native Plant Foraging Guide, lists the following forage plants where leafcutter bees gather nectar and pollen:

Spring Forage Plants: 

  • Golden Alexander (Zizia aurea)
  • Purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea)
  • Foxglove beardtongue (Penstemon digitalis)

Summer Forage Plants: 

  • Black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia hirta)
  • Common milkweed (Asclepias syriaca)
  • Butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa)
  • Joe Pye weed (Eutrochium purpureum)
  • Anise hyssop (Agastache foeniculum)
  • Blazingstar (Liatris pycnostachya)
  • Blue vervain (Verbena hastata)

Autumn Forage Plants: 

  • Goldenrod, species of Solidago, including showy goldenrod (Solidago speciosa)
  • Asters, i.e., species of Symphyotricum, including New England aster, (Symphyotricum novae-angliae)
Here is a picture of Megachile fidelis, the faithful leafcutting bee, gathering nectar and pollen from a New England aster.
Joseph Rojas – iNaturalist (CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

Specialist Leafcutter Bees

Some leafcutter bees specialize on the aster family of plants, known as Asteraceae. So we can support these bees around our home landscape by cultivating any representatives of the Asteraceae family, including goldenrod, sunflowers, ironweed and wingstem.

Check out this video of a female leafcutter bee carving out a leaf piece from a China Rose.

More leafcutting from leafcutter bees in my backyard

Here is evidence that a leafcutter bee was carving off pieces of a silver maple leaf (left). Here, leafcutter bees have been working on a jewelweed plant (right).

The following are photos of flowers from my home landscape, all of which make excellent forage for pollinators, including leafcutter bees.

Purple coneflower
(Echinacea purpurea)
Cutleaf coneflower
(Rudbeckia laciniata)
Blunt Mountain Mint (Pycnanthemum muticum)
False Sunflower
(Heliopsis Helianthoides)
Cup plant
(Silphium perfoliatum)
Butterfly weed
(Asclepias tuberosa)
Brown-Eyed Susan
(Rudbeckia hirta)

This is my front yard garden from 2022. 

Included here are four great forage plants: Maximilian sunflower (Helianthus maximiliani), white crownbeard (Verbesina virginica), frost aster (Symphyiotricum pilosum) and New England aster (Symphiotricum novae-angliae)

Grow your garden and grow an ecosystem. Cultivate a diversity of native plants and avoid pesticides.

—Hart


Hart Hagan is a Climate Reporter based in Louisville, KY. He reports on his YouTube channel and Substack column. He teaches a course for Biodiversity for a Livable Climate called Healing Our Land & Our Climate. You can check it out and sign up for a class here.


Photos by Hart Hagan, except where noted.

Sources and Further Reading:

Featured Creature: Luna Moths

What nocturnal creatures native to North America are known for their beauty and the fact that they don’t eat at all in their adult life? 

Luna moths!

Photo by Geoff Gallice, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons 

As the movement to restore native biodiversity grows, we are seeing trends like No-Mow May, Leave the Leaves, and pollinator-friendly gardens gain popularity as ways to support the intricate web of biodiversity. Often, part of the campaign for preserving and nurturing these essential soil-plant-insect-animal interactions involves highlighting some of the charismatic creatures who stand to benefit from rewilding efforts. If you are looking for a creature to champion in the work for native biodiversity, look no further than the Luna Moth! 

Photo by Naturelady from Pixabay

When I was little I used to think the woods were magic. I read Enid Blyton’s The Magic Faraway Tree and imagined what fantastical creatures I might meet if I got to wander through the forest. For the most part, my adventures were confined to chasing fireflies in New York City parks, but that was enough to convince me I was onto something. Those lucky enough to meet the tree-dwelling luna moth might agree, because these big bright fluttering beauties would fit right into any fantasy setting. 

The luna moth, or Actias luna, is a species of giant silk moth endemic to North America. It is known for its distinctive shape, green color, and shockingly long wingspan of up to 7 inches! In discussing the biodiversity we are fighting for by restoring landscapes and rewilding our built environment, the lovely luna moth has come up several times for the sheer wonder it brings people. Like a real-life tinkerbell, this intricate insect inspires us with its beauty and shows how much transformation a single individual can undergo in a lifetime. 

While many animals (and particularly insects), can challenge our human perspective of time with their fleeting life spans, the luna moth takes this to new extremes. Not only do adult luna moths live for just a week, but they have a very clear purpose in that time to mate and reproduce. They are so single-minded that they don’t undertake one of the other major activities of the natural world – eating! The luna moth emerges from its cocoon with all the energy needed to carry out its week of mature adult life.

Though it may be brief, the luna moth’s existence, from egg to adult stage, with all the growth and survival that entails, is anything but simple.

A lesson in metamorphosis

Like other moths and butterflies, luna moths undergo a dramatic transformation in their life cycle from their humble beginnings as eggs. After approximately 10 days, they hatch into their larval stage on the underside of the leaves where they were laid. Caterpillar larvae actually undergo several stages of molting in which they grow in size and change in appearance, sporting spots and changing color from a bright green to a darker yellow or orange. They cocoon themselves after several weeks as larvae, entering the pupal stage for 2-3 weeks before finally emerging as the beautiful moths we’ve come to recognize. 

With a name derived from the latin word for moon, these nocturnal creatures can be observed during the evening in late Spring or early Summer, depending on the region. While they range from Canada to Florida in areas east of the Great Plains, the timing and duration of their life cycles vary by location and climate. Indeed, Northern populations of luna moths have just one generation per year, while further South in warmer conditions, they’ve been known to have as many as three generations per year. 

Luna Moth caterpillar (Photo by Benny Mazur, CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

As caterpillars, luna moth larvae feast on the leaves of the trees they call home. They love several species of broadleaf trees, including walnut, hickory, sumac, and sweet gum. While they can be Very Hungry Caterpillars, voraciously consuming leaves to grow, populations of luna moths tend not to reach a density that starts to harm their host plants. Instead, they are a beautiful feature of the ecosystems of trees that they dwell in, and themselves become food for other species, including birds, bats, and some parasitic flies. 

Survival with a flourish

The adult luna moth uses a very special survival strategy to evade bats who are out hunting at night. While their green camouflage might keep them safe from predators relying on eyesight to hunt, they need to try something different to out-maneuver a bat’s echolocation. The long curved tails of the luna moth serve just this purpose. When under pressure from a bat’s pursuit, luna moths spin the frills at the end of their tails, disrupting the vibrations through the air that help the bats navigate and giving moths an essential boost in getting away. These beautiful features offer the moth both form and function.   

Luna moth near Tulsa, OK (Photo by woodleywonderworks, CC BY 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

The luna moth is a stunning example of the creativity, elegance, and transience of the natural world. While a single luna moth may not live very long, their impact persists across generations, inspiring naturalists young and old who are lucky enough to catch a glimpse. These creatures are one of many reasons to keep preserving and planting native trees. When we do, living wonders await. 

With that, I’ll flutter off for now!
Maya


Maya Dutta is an environmental advocate and ecosystem restorer working to spread understanding on the key role of biodiversity in shaping the climate and the water, carbon, nutrient and energy cycles we rely on. She is passionate about climate change adaptation and mitigation and the ways that community-led ecosystem restoration can fight global climate change while improving the livelihood and equity of human communities. Having grown up in New York City and lived in cities all her life, Maya is interested in creating more natural infrastructure, biodiversity, and access to nature and ecological connection in urban areas.


Sources:
https://www.fllt.org/goddess-of-the-moon-the-life-history-of-the-luna-moth/
https://hgic.clemson.edu/factsheet/luna-moth/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Luna_moth
https://www.smithsonianmag.com/science-nature/luna-moths-gorgeous-wings-throw-bat-attacks-180954281/

Featured Creature: Asian Giant Hornet

Photo from wikipedia.org

What creature comes from Southeast Asia, is the biggest of its kind, eats animals we need, and  has been tried and convicted of murder in the court of public opinion?

Meet the Asian Giant Hornet!

Warning: This is not your warm and cuddly Featured Creature.  

It was a warm and pleasant day last summer, and some of us Bio4Climate folks were entertaining out-of-town guests at our Miyawaki Forest in Cambridge, Massachusetts.  During lunch, a biologist from central Europe expressed horror at the appearance of a “new” insect.  She described it as the largest wasp she had ever seen (the differences between wasps and hornets are primarily coloring and size).

What do you think?

Indeed, it was a new insect in the Western Hemisphere – it landed in France in 2004.  Before then, its home had been limited to Southeast Asia and Japan for 16 million years as a forest dweller that mostly lives in subterranean nests.  Those in the know suspect that it somehow hitched a ride in pottery imported from China.  Perhaps it’s a bit surprising that the hornet’s international travels took so long, given that globalization has been going on for many centuries.

Asian Hornet Size Comparison
Relative sizes for comparison, from vespawatch.be CC BY 4.0 license

In many places where this creature newly appeared, authorities put out the alarm and asked citizens to take a photo of it with their cell phones but do not touch it or disturb it in any way!  It has a quarter-inch stinger and plenty of venom for repeated attacks.  It’s rarely lethal to humans, but the sting has been described as driving a hot nail into your flesh.  “Just tell us where you saw it and we’ll send in experts to try to find its nest” – no simple task with nests that are usually underground.

As it happens, people mostly mis-identified other black-and-yellow wasps as Asian Giant Hornets so the alarm was somewhat false – but the threat was real.  And the spread could happen quickly, as it did in Belgium:

Asian hornets in Belgium: August 2018, ©Vespa-Watch
Asian hornets in Belgium: August 2020, ©Vespa-Watch
Asian hornets in Belgium: July 2022, ©Vespa-Watch

If these maps resemble our recent and devastating infectious global invasive-species explosion, Covid-19,  it’s not a coincidence.  Zoonotic diseases – illnesses that jump from nonhuman animal hosts, including insects, to humans – present in patterns that resemble the spread of hornets.  The threat of another potential pandemic, albeit non-microbial, should ring alarm bells everywhere.  

But that’s a story for another day.  The current question is, “Why are we so worried about the Asian Giant Hornet?”  True, it’s a painful sting, but is there something else?

Yes, indeed.

This hornet’s favorite food is honey bees.  The bees don’t stand a chance against these aggressive and much larger adversaries.  A small crew of invaders can decimate a nest of thousands of bees in a few hours.  Their powerful jaws quickly decapitate their victims; they proceed to chew up the body into “meatballs” and deliver the meals to their own offspring.  Hence the nickname “murder hornets,” although that is rather overly dramatic – all carnivores eat other creatures.  After all, it’s an essential job in almost all ecosystems to keep a habitat’s checks and balances are working.

Bees in the hornet’s native South Asian habitat do have a defense, at least against only one or two invaders.  A team of bees surrounds the hornet, beats their wings, and raises the temperature beyond hornet tolerance – and to victory!  

Photo: Takahashi
A defensive ball of Japanese honey bees (Apis cerana japonica) in which two Japanese hornets are engulfed, incapacitated, heated, and eventually killed. This defense is also used against the Asian giant hornet.

Unfortunately, non-Asian bees haven’t had millions of years to figure out how to smother hornets.

Since honey bees are essential pollinators for many crops in addition to producers of honey, the appearance of Asian Giant Hornets in North America in 2019 mobilized beekeepers and agriculture big time.  In 2020 officials warned that if the hornets become established, they “could decimate bee populations in the United States and establish such a deep presence that all hope for eradication could be lost.”  As with many invasive species, when they establish themselves in a new place their natural predators usually don’t come along, and that disrupts the ecosystem’s function.

In the hornet’s defense from a homo sapiens perspective, it has some redeeming qualities. It’s only fair to say that it also attacks what we would call agricultural pests, and its larval silk proteins “have a wide variety of potential applications due to their [many] morphologies, including the native fiber form, but also sponge, film, and gel.”  

Finally, given that every animal eats and gets eaten eventually,

In some Japanese mountain villages, the nests are excavated and the larvae are considered a delicacy when fried. In the central Chūbu region, these hornets are sometimes eaten as snacks or an ingredient in drinks. The grubs are often preserved in jars, pan-fried or steamed with rice to make a savory dish called hebo-gohan. The adults are fried on skewers, stinger and all, until the body becomes crunchy.

In gastronomy, there is hope!


P.S. “Vespa,” by the way, is the genus of wasps and hornets.  So the next time you’re riding your bike and you hear an ever louder buzzing behind you, be grateful when it’s a gas-guzzling scooter and not its eponymous insect.

Extra featured-creature feature, red in tooth and claw: 

By Adam Sacks


Sources:
https://www.discoveringbelgium.com/asian-hornets/
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asian_giant_hornet
Alfred Lord Tennyson In Memoriam A. H. H., 1850:
   Who trusted God was love indeed
   And love Creation’s final law
   Tho’ Nature, red in tooth and claw
   With ravine, shriek’d against his creed

Featured Creature: Wasps

What creature taught humans to make paper, builds with mud and can pollinate a flower inside a fruit?

Wasps!

Young paper wasp queen guarding her nest and eggs.
Alvesgaspar (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

When creatures possess a defense mechanism capable of hurting us (like a sting), we categorize them as ‘dangerous.’ When they look differently than we do, we categorize them as ‘strange,’ and when they get attracted to man-made cities or agricultural fields due to the buffet of food we lay out for them, we categorize them as a ‘nuisance.’ When it comes to wasps, we call them all the above. 

Whenever a creature has a negative reputation, people wonder, “Why do we even need them? Can’t we just get rid of them?” It’s a painful reminder of the Ego mindset, the one that sets us above other species. But if we take a moment to learn about other creatures, especially the ones we consider “pests,” we soon move towards an Eco mindset. We begin to realize that all species are important for balancing Earth’s ecosystems, and that each individual brings something unique and irreplaceable to this planet. When we embody the Eco mindset, we no longer see humans as dominant, but as equal participants in nature’s systems.

Wide Range

The term ‘wasps’ includes a variety of species that are generally separated by their behavior (and not all of them are yellow and black – in fact, only about 1% of wasps sport those colors). Social wasps, such as yellowjackets and hornets, live in colonies with hierarchies similar to bees and ants while solitary wasps, such as potter wasps, do not. Social wasps start a new colony every spring. Each colony begins with a queen, and she will raise a few worker wasps to enlarge the nest and bring food. Once the nest is spacious enough, the queen will lay eggs, and by the end of the summer there will be thousands of colony members. Throughout autumn, all wasps will perish except for a few new queens. Over the winter, this new set of royalty will find shelter in a fallen log or an abandoned burrow, and when spring returns they will venture out to create new colonies. 

A social wasp (Vespula germanica)
Alvesgaspar (CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

Wonderful Architects

Wasps, unlike honeybees, cannot produce wax. To build nests, most species create a paper-like material out of wood pulp and shape the material into cells perfect for rearing. The manufacturing process involves gathering wood fibers from strips of bark, softening the wood by chewing and mixing it with saliva, and spitting it back out to form the cells. Some species, like Potter Wasps, prefer to design nests from mud.

Theory has it that 2,000 years ago, a Chinese official named Cai Lun invented our modern use of paper after watching wasps build a nest in his garden. So next time you read a book, write a note, or receive one of our letters in the mail, you can thank wasps for their ingenious skills!

Although many of us may not enjoy having a wasp nest in or near our home, it’s best to leave them alone when possible. Remember that a colony only lasts for a season, and once the wasps leave you can remove the remaining nest. If you need more convincing for leaving wasp nests intact, keep reading to learn how these creatures contribute to the environment.

Work-oriented

Despite the lack of recognition, wasps contribute to man-made gardens and agricultural fields by eating other ‘pests,’ or insects, that harm crops. Their wide-ranging diet and wide geographical range (they exist on every continent except Antarctica) means they contribute to human food sources worldwide. Wasps eat flies and grasshoppers, and will feed aphids to their growing larvae. Some also eat nectar, making them pollinators. Around the world, many farmers consider them essential for their food-production methods. When it comes to food security, we can thank wasps for looking after our crops.

Cuckoo Wasp (Chrysididae)
Vengolis (CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

Well-balanced

I recently had my first fig, grown organically without any pesticides or chemical fertilizers, ever. It was delicious, and when I asked the manager of Sarvodaya Farm for another, we began to discuss the important role of wasps in fig reproduction.

Although figs are considered a fruit, they are actually an inverted flower. The fig blooms inside the pod, rather than outside, and so it relies on insect pollination to reproduce. It takes a special pollinator to crawl through a small opening and into the fig’s pod to bring the flower its much-needed pollen. Wasps like to lay their eggs in cavities, so they developed a mutually beneficial (or symbiotic) relationship with fig trees. Wasps get a home protected from predators to raise their young, and figs get to reproduce. 

Some species of wasps have developed a similar mutualistic relationship with orchids. The extinction of wasps would not only be detrimental for figs, orchids, and other plants that rely on insect eaters or pollinators, it would also be tragic for the many organisms that eat those plants (which, as a new fig fanatic, now includes me). 

My first fig ever, from Sarvodaya Farms, where I learned about the mutually beneficial relationship between figs and wasps

Warriors of disease

In case the invention of paper, crop protection, and pollination were still not enough to impress you, one species of wasp found in Brazil also produces a toxin in its venom that contains cancer-fighting properties. Even the substance that enables some wasps to kill larger prey contains healing properties. 

By writing about creatures a lot of people see as ‘pests,’ I hope to do my part in speaking against the way we view and treat other animals. I also hope these stories encourage you to take the time to learn from our non-human neighbors. Cai Lun demonstrated the incredible tools we can design when we look to nature for inspiration, a practice known as biomimicry. The solutions are all around us, but it’s up to us to be still, inquisitive, and open-minded, and to let nature show off her magic. 

Wishfully yours,

Tania


Tania graduated from Tufts University with a Master of Science in Animals and Public Policy. Her academic research projects focused on wildlife conservation efforts, and the impacts that human activities have on wild habitats. As a writer and activist, Tania emphasizes the connections between planet, human, and animal health. She is a co-founder of the podcast Closing the Gap, and works on outreach and communications for Sustainable Harvest International. She loves hiking, snorkeling, and advocating for social justice.


Featured Creature: Ladybug

Photo by Roberto Navarro on Unsplash

What tiny creature brings luck to farmers and other folks all over the globe?

The ladybug! 

Photo by Roberto Navarro on Unsplash

One Lucky Lady

Ladybugs, or beetles of the family Coccinellidae, are small, often colorful rounded insects beloved by children’s rhymes and gardeners alike. 

Ladybugs are thought to be a sign of luck in many cultures and urban myths. Whether it’s because of their cuteness or their supposed powers of good fortune, people often hold ladybugs as an exception to their aversion to insects. Perhaps the lovely ladybug can pave the way to a more widespread appreciation for insects and their importance in the web of life. 

There are a variety of superstitions or myths around ladybugs, as people of different cultures have developed different takes on what kind of luck this little critter brings. Some view ladybugs as portents of love, and say that the redder they are the more luck they bring. Others say that it’s the number of spots that count – predicting the number of years of good luck you’ll have, or the number of months until your greatest wish comes true, depending on whom you ask.

In Norway, it’s said that if two people catch sight of a ladybug at the same time, they will fall in love. Whether ladybugs are said to bring luck in love or in the year’s coming harvest, it’s widely believed that killing a ladybug confers bad luck, so steer clear!

Photo by Dustin Humes on Unsplash

Doing their part 

In all likelihood, ladybugs have become associated with luck because of the very real help they provide to farmers and growers. Ladybugs prey on aphids, mealybugs, and other insects that can damage crops by latching on and sapping them of their nutrients. While a number of artificial pesticides can be used to control such problems, these dangerous chemicals often have unintended consequences, harming not only the insects they target, but also killing beneficial insects, running off and seeping into groundwater, poisoning soil, and altering ecosystems. Ladybugs provide a natural alternative to chemical pesticides because they target the pests specifically, leaving plants, other insects and animals, and humans all unharmed. 

Ladybug larvae feast on aphids, mealybugs, and other soft-bodied insects, and can consume up to 50 aphids a day. They continue to maintain this diet in their pupal and adult forms, and may eat up to 5000 insects in a lifetime. Even through metamorphosis, some things never change! 

Check out this short video showing the life cycle of the ladybug:

A diverse family

Also known as “ladybirds” or “lady beetles”, ladybugs are found pretty much everywhere around the globe, and there are over 5000 different species of them. While ladybugs (at least here in the Northeast US) are famous for sporting a pattern of red shell with black spots, they can actually have a variety of colors and patterns. 

File from entomart.be

Their bright color and patterning signals to predators that they should stay away, or face a very disappointing meal. Indeed, when under threat, ladybugs release a distasteful fluid from their joints. As is often the case with many other familiar plants and animals, these insects are more than meets the eye. 

Ladybugs are a great example of a creature that is beloved for its contributions to its ecosystem, enabling plant life and complex networks of creatures to thrive. When we pay attention to the way other organisms help out in their own habitats, we come to realize that you don’t need luck when you have healthy ecosystems. By using natural means of pest control and working with other life forms to keep systems in balance, we can make our own good fortune. 

Fingers crossed,

Maya


Maya Dutta is an environmental advocate and ecosystem restorer working to spread understanding on the key role of biodiversity in shaping the climate and the water, carbon, nutrient and energy cycles we rely on. She is passionate about climate change adaptation and mitigation and the ways that community-led ecosystem restoration can fight global climate change while improving the livelihood and equity of human communities. Having grown up in New York City and lived in cities all her life, Maya is interested in creating more natural infrastructure, biodiversity, and access to nature and ecological connection in urban areas.


Sources:
https://entomology.ca.uky.edu/ef105
https://kids.nationalgeographic.com/animals/invertebrates/facts/ladybug
https://organiccontrol.com/lady-bugs/

Featured Creature: Atlas Moth

What creature has no mouth, is known for colorful patterns, and is famous for mimicking a deadly predator?

The Atlas Moth!

Jee & Rani Nature Photography © 2018 (CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

The insect with a reputation

Atlas moths live throughout India, China, Indonesia and Malaysia. This wide distribution covers secondary forests, shrublands, tropical areas, and rainforests. 

The name “Atlas” likely came from the moth’s vibrant, unique patterns that resemble geological formations shown on a map, or atlas. Another theory behind the name comes from Greek mythology. According to myth, Atlas was a Titan who was ordered by Zeus to hold the sky on his shoulders as punishment for rebelling against the gods. A big task like that requires a big titan, so “Atlas” Moth could refer to the large size of this creature. 

The Atlas moth is the largest moth due to its massive wing surface area. Females are larger than males, and they can measure up to 12 in, reaching a surface area of 62 in2 – that’s one huge moth!

The last theory behind the Atlas moth’s name is the Cantonese translation, which means “snake’s head moth,” and that refers to the distinct snake face shape on the tip of the moth’s wings. Can you see it?

The Atlas moth uses this snake head pattern to its advantage. If the moth feels threatened while in a resting position, it will quickly begin flapping its wings to mimic a moving snake head. I’m sure snakes must appreciate the Atlas moth’s methods. After all, mimicry is the sincerest form of flattery.

Max Burger ( Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons )

Gone Too Soon

Sadly, our beloved moth has a short lifespan. After emerging from their cocoons, they live for two weeks. This is just enough time to find a mate and reproduce. Atlas moths are so busy with these two tasks during that time period that they don’t even eat. They depend solely on the energy they stored during their caterpillar, or larva, stage. The moth has so evolved to this fasting lifestyle that it doesn’t even have a mouth! 

To get ready for the moth stage, atlas moth caterpillars will devour citrus fruits, cinnamon, guava, evergreen tree leaves and willow. The caterpillars have their own defense system, too. When threatened, they spray a potent, foul-smelling substance that can reach up to 50 cm. So don’t mess with these caterpillars!

Vinayaraj (CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

How are human activities impacting Atlas Moths?

People throughout the countries the atlas moth lives in admire this creature. In India, their cocoons are used to create a silk called fagara. In Taiwan, local people collect the cocoons and create a variety of products. Purses are made by simply adding a zipper to nature’s design.

Although local communities have been practicing sustainable cocoon-harvesting practices for some time, throughout recent decades the moth itself has been targeted- to be sold alive as a pet, or dead as a display item. Perhaps we can learn from this moth by showing our admiration through mimicry, rather than taking them out of their natural habitat.

Wishfully yours,

Tania


Tania graduated from Tufts University with a Master of Science in Animals and Public Policy. Her academic research projects focused on wildlife conservation efforts, and the impacts that human activities have on wild habitats. As a writer and activist, Tania emphasizes the connections between planet, human, and animal health. She is a co-founder of the podcast Closing the Gap, and works on outreach and communications for Sustainable Harvest International. She loves hiking, snorkeling, and advocating for social justice.


Featured Creature: Dragonfly

Which creature existed before the dinosaurs, is an aerial genius, and can detect things we can only witness through slow-motion cameras?

The dragonfly!

Eugene Zelenko (CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

Predecessors to the Dinosaurs

Dragonflies were some of the first winged insects to evolve, about 300 million years ago. When they first evolved, their wingspans measured up to two feet! In contrast, today’s dragonflies have wingspans of about two to five inches.

Although in this feature we speak of dragonflies in a general sense, there are more than 5,000 known species of them, each with its own characteristics. 

The Dramatic Entrance

Dragonflies begin as larvae. During this almost 2-year stage, they live in wetlands such as lakes or ponds across every continent except Antarctica. Despite their small size, their appetite is huge, and they are not picky eaters. In their larval to nymph stages, they will eat anything they can grasp including tadpoles, other insect larvae, small fish, mosquitos, and even other dragonfly larvae. 

After their nymph stage, dragonflies emerge as if they were reviving from the dead. They crawl out of the water, split open their body along their abdomen, and reveal their four wings- along with their new identity. Then, they spend hours to days drying themselves before they can take to the skies as the insects we know and love. 

Once a dragonfly is dry and ready to fly, their voracious appetite continues. As usual, they’ll eat almost anything, but now they will only eat what they catch mid-flight. These feasts consist of butterflies, moths, bees, mosquitoes, midges, and, yet again, even other dragonflies. They seem to embrace the motto “every fly for themself.”

Check out their dramatic transformation:

Engineered for Optimal Flight

Dragonflies emerge after their larval stage as masters of the air. Their four independently moving wings and their long, thin bodies help them maneuver the skies. They hunt and mate in mid-air and they can fly up to 60 miles per hour. They are also able to fly backwards, sideways, and every which way in a matter of seconds or less. 

This incredible ability requires excellent vision. (Or else we would likely see them crash much more often!) Thankfully, dragonflies have just the answer. Their head mostly consists of their eyes. Their multiple lenses allow them to see nearly everything around them, covering every angle except one: right behind them. The insect’s vision not only reaches far and wide, but allows them to see the world at faster speeds than we can.

How are human activities impacting dragonflies?

Since dragonflies consume a variety of organisms, and rely on healthy bodies of water to grow, they are considered important environmental indicators. In other words, when dragonfly populations plummet, conservationists have something to worry about. Nymphs and dragonflies will eat just about anything, so they will only go hungry if there is no available food. Looks like those big appetites came in handy after all. 

Declines in dragonfly populations also indicate water pollution and habitat loss. These are consequences of agricultural methods that favor chemicals and synthetic fertilizers, and forest management that disregards the importance of maintaining balance within an ecosystem. One solution is regenerative agriculture which ensures fewer toxins in our environment. 

Overall, the more green (and blue) space for wildlife, the more likely these iconic insects will thrive. 


Tania graduated from Tufts University with a Master of Science in Animals and Public Policy. Her academic research projects focused on wildlife conservation efforts, and the impacts that human activities have on wild habitats. As a writer and activist, Tania emphasizes the connections between planet, human, and animal health. She is a co-founder of the podcast Closing the Gap, and works on outreach and communications for Sustainable Harvest International. She loves hiking, snorkeling, and advocating for social justice.