When I got home from Brazil, I checked the jar in which I had put the three green caterpillars that had devoured my mint. One had only just begun spinning a cocoon just before I departed for Brazil, but they finished their metmorphosis and there were four dead adult moths in the jar. I swear I put only three caterpillars in there, but I must have miscounted.
Regarding the possible identity, boy, was I off. They are owlet moths, family Noctuidae. And the species appears to be Autographa californica, Alfalfa Looper Moth. Alfalfa and other legumes are common food plants for the caterpillars, but Bugguide does say that they are known to feed on "more than 50 genera of herbaceous plants and woody shrubs." Lepidoptera of the Pacific Northwest by Miller and Hammond says it's a pest in vegetable crops. I don't know if Mentha spicata is already known among them, but let this be the required documentation.
The empty pupal case:
The only adult with the wings spread flat. It looks pretty worn, and I guess it fluttered around in the jar quite a bit, rubbing scales off in the process.
Tuesday, August 2, 2016
I’ve blogged a fair amount about the Pantanal in the past, and I always come home from here with lots of material. I like to end my Mato Grosso tours here, at the very southern end of the state, as the habitats are more open and birding is easier. After the fast-moving mixed flocks of the Amazonian rainforests, birding dry woodland and open marshes is a delight. Birds and animals seem much less fearful of humans here too.
A Jabiru feeding right next to the road is not an uncommon sight.
Buff-necked Ibises just walk around our hotel grounds.
Hyacinth Macaws babble fearlessly right overhead.
This Chestnut-eared Aracari was perched quietly right by the trail one morning.
I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to a Sungrebe. This is with my 4x Canon PowerShot G15, as my SX50 is away for repairs and cleaning.
Plus we see Panthera onca, the Jaguar. It’s pretty much a guaranteed thing these days – about 40 minutes up the Cuiabá River at the end of the road in Porto Jofre, and just scan the banks along the main river, the tributaries of the Tres Irmãos, the Piquiri, or along a few small oxbows. With some 15-20 boats doing this, all morning and afternoon, eventually a Jaguar gets spotted, word gets out by radio or via hand signals from passing boatmen, and everyone converges to get views and photos of the cat.
We did not find any Jaguars of our own; we were on the river for less than an hour our first morning when word came of a jaguar sitting on the bank of the Piquiri. Then not much later downstream was another. Then in the afternoon we again didn’t have much of chance to start looking for our own Jaguar, as others had already spotted one. Then another. Four in one day, and excellent views of all. In the morning we saw siblings Pantaneira and Felix; I didn’t manage to get any photos of them, though Jarmo did, and we sent them off to Paul Donahue, who worked here for several months last summer and provided their names for me. Each one has a unique pattern of spots on the face and can be recognized quickly with some practice. They also have different head shapes, so they really do look quite different.
This is Marley, the first one in the afternoon.
And this poor beat-up cat is Peter Schmidt.. The torn left ear is an old injury, but his right eye, cut on his nose, and the swollen front left paw giving him a bad limp are apparently rather recent. I digiscoped both of these animals, setting up my Zeiss DiaScope 85 FL in front of me in the boat.
Here he came down for a long drink before going back up to rest and recover. I had been able to get names for all 12 of the previous Jaguars I’ve seen here since 2012, and all four of these individuals were new for me.
We also saw an Ocelot in the mid-afternoon crossing the Transpantaneira Highway, but it was too quick for photos. After it disappeared in the roadside shrubbery a big mob of birds starting making a fuss, including our only Orange-backed Troupials of the trip.
Here are some other fun animals we saw:
Several huge Salvator merianae, Argentine Black-and-white Tegus in the mid-morning sun.
Tapirus terrestris, South American Tapir on the entrance road to Pouso Alegre, our first evening in the Pantanal.
On our last evening we drove the same road and saw six mammals: another South American Tapir, Brown Brocket (a small deer), Crab-eating Fox, Crab-eating Raccoon, Nine-banded Armadillo, and Southern Tamadua (a small anteater). But my favorite find that evening drive was this Bothrops mattogrossensis, Mato Grosso Lancehead, stretched across the road.
Some lists have split Bothrops into a few smaller genera, and this one would be in Bothropoides; more recent papers do not advocate that split though. Incidentally, I always advise strongly that people do not use the useless name “fer-de-lance,” the snake equivalent of “sea gull,” except that it’s French. It doesn’t apply to any one species – there are 48 species of lanceheads in the similar genera Bothrops and Bothrocophias – and the only French speaking country with any species at all is French Guiana, and they don’t use the name fer-de-lance.
Finally, I spotted this mole cricket on our last evening at Pouso Alegre. I don’t think there are many species here, but I’ve only made as far as family with this – Gryllotalpidae, which nicely translates as “mole cricket.”
Saturday, July 30, 2016
I’ve long wanted to visit Rio Azul Jungle Lodge, and the owners have been offering to host me for an inspection visit for several years. I’ve just not had the free time to follow up on it. But during the first planning stages of this current private tour a year and a half ago, my clients did their research and asked if I’d be willing to change my usual Mato Grosso itinerary a bit to add a few days at Rio Azul. That didn’t take any convincing.
It’s only 39 kilometers (24 miles) from Cristalino Jungle Lodge the way the Bald Parrot flies, but it’s amazing how different the habitats and resulting bird life is – all reflecting a simple difference in geology. It takes nearly 3 1/2 hours of travel to get there, starting with the boat ride from Cristalino Jungle Lodge to the Teles Pires boat launch, where two taxis from Alta Floresta had been hired by Rio Azul to meet us. From there we drove north to a ferry to cross back to the east side of the Teles Pires.
From there we drove in a zigzag fashion mostly northward through patches of forest and many miles of cattle pasture (some of it the legacy of the former governor, now in jail for corruption, as he used state-owned equipment to clear the land), passing an active Jabiru nest, Burrowing Owls, and other birds that have invaded the region in the past 30 years or so. Here are a couple Google Earth screen captures that show the location relative to South America (southeastern Amazonia, nearly in the center of the continent), and just NNW of Cristalino in the state of Pará.
Rio Azul has only seven cabins, and their idea is to stay small, hosting groups of either birders or fishermen (but not both at the same time), and keep groups to about eight people or fewer. The owners, Carlão and Ivani, have created a paradise and continue to work here themselves, as guide, boatman, and chef. It was a wonderful experience. The closed eyes and odd expressions in group photo here shows why one should always take multiple shots..
One main attraction here is the Rio Azul river itself, a tributary of a tributary of the Teles Pires (which itself is a tributary of a tributary of the Amazon). People can fish here, but for the Komi family, a place to wade and swim was a draw (though while the parents and I went birding on two days, the boys and the nanny went fishing with Carlão).
One had to watch for stingrays, and we did see a few. They’re not really dangerous as they don’t bury themselves in order to ambush. You do have to watch where you walk, but they are obvious and shy, swimming away before you can get very close as long as you’re not running through the water. The water here is unbelievably clear and full of fish. The stingray diversity is surprisingly high (I think I heard eight species) and hints at a very different geology millions of years ago when there was a large inland sea connected at times to the ocean. The genus here is Potamotrygon, which simply means “river stingray” from ancient Greek (recall Hippopotamus, meaning "horse of the river," but then it makes me wonder about the quail-dove genus Geotrygon, which must mean “ground stingray”).
Two of the prize birds that my clients hoped to see here are best seen by taking a boat ride on the river, which we did our first morning. We passed the remains of a bridge that was demolished by the Brazilian air force after the millions of square kilometers on the north bank of the Rio Azul was declared a military reserve but only after settlers had already built the bridge and started to clear the rainforest. So like Cristalino, Rio Azul lodge is adjacent to one of the largest and best-protected continuous tracts of forest in the southeastern Amazon.
The first of the two targets was a fabulous hummingbird. Crimson Topaz is large, almost all glittering red with a yellow throat, and possessing two elongated tail feathers that cross and extend well beyond the other tail feathers. I don’t have my 50x Canon PowerShot on this trip (in for cleaning and repairs), so this photo is almost a joke. It does document my only lifebird of the trip as it was diving down after grabbing an insect over the river – the two long tail feathers point up, the bill points down.
The other target bird, which we saw from the exact same spot in the river was a group of seven Bald Parrots perched in a leafless tree by the river edge. Here’s a photo of one I took at Cristalino Jungle Lodge in 2006, just four years after this very strange species was first described to science (it was the first record from there, where there are still only 3 or 4 records, straying from near here, no doubt).
With the two main specialties under our belt, we could relax and enjoy whatever new birds we found – and there were plenty. We took three other boat rides, one in the early morning before breakfast on a successful search for the elusive Zigzag Heron. We had amazing views of it and raced back for breakfast. Here’s a video our return on that trip to give an idea of what it’s like.
Surrounding the lodge is some fine Amazonian rain forest (though we are here during the winter/dry season and therefore no hint of rain). The early morning sun through the canopy lit up this red-trunked tree beautifully. With the recent Scientific Reports article that lists 11,676 species of tree in the Amazon Basin, I will be lucky to eventually know no more than about 0.5% of them by the end of my lifetime.
Very common in the taller forest was this vine, new to me. It is Heteropsis flexuosa, known as Titica (prounounced "chi-CHI-ca," and used widely for the fibers in the aerial stem and roots. The family is Araceae, same as Philodendron and the familiar skunk cabbage.
We had some good birds in this taller forest, including at least three different Guianan Gnatcatchers (or Para Gnatcatcher by some who split it), a very rare bird at Cristalino but much easier here.
Mixed flocks had many of the same birds as at Cristalino (such as Chestnut-winged Hookbill and Rufous-rumped Foliage-gleaner), but Rusty-breasted Nunlet seems more regular here, as was Brown-banded Puffbird. This is one of two we saw and several that we heard every day.
My friend Brad Boyle identified this Voyria spruceana for me. It’s in the family Gentianaceae and gets its nutrients from underground fungi – though who knows if it gives anything in return or is just a parasite.
Speaking of fungi, though this is the dry season with not much around, I did find this nicely dried out Lentinus crinitus, identified using the downloadable fabulous new field guide by Jean Lodge and Susanne Sourell.
We saw several of the really interesting birds here in a shorter forest as well as more open scrub that grows on an isolated patch of very low nutrient white sand along the entrance road – a feature that like the stingrays also harkens to an ancient inland sea.
We had the first local record of the widespread but patchily distributed Plain-crested Elaenia, as well as a brief but good views of Blue-tailed Emerald. But I was totally blown away when a pair of Rufous-crowned Elaenias popped up in response to my recording and playback of an unknown vocalization, a quiet “grrrr” sound from the scrub. A few hundred kilometers separate this occurrence from the nearest other record, and I wasn’t even aware that the species occurred south of the Amazon. I had seen it 17 years ago in the Gran Sabana of Venezuela and then again just last year in the northern Brazilian state of Roraima. I got recordings, which I appended to my eBird submission and can be heard on the Macaulay Library’s website here.
The plants in areas of white sand are fascinating. I especially took to the melastomes here. This appears to be Sandemania hoehnei, a real white sand specialist. The paper is Renner, Susanne S. 1987. Sandemania hoehnei (Melastomataceae; Tibouchineae): Taxonomy, Distribution, and Biology. Brittonia, Vol. 39, No. 4, pp. 441-446.
This is a Macairea sp., and though most of these melastomes have very tough leaves, presumably for water retention, this one is also unusual in having fewer than the normal number of primary veins running from the base to the leaf tip.
But even stranger is this Microlicia sp. with perfectly typical flowers but very tiny leaves folded down against the stem.
This probable Remijia sp. in the family Rubiaceae was notable in being stunningly fragrant, noticeable from at least 15 meters away.
I was excited to see my first Mauritiella armata, a palm with the local name of Buritirana. It’s is related to Mauritia palms (famous among birders for the species that depend on it) but is much slenderer and with this notably armored trunk.
I recognized these fruits as Euphorbiaceae (see the three stigmas), but it took a bit of searching to find its name, Mabea angustifolia.
One of the most prominent shrubs here is a yellow-flowered member of the family Malpighiaceae, probably in the genus Byrsonima. Rather than offering nectar to pollinators, it’s much like our SE Arizona Krameria in having oil instead. I found the Brazilian bee expert Felipe Vivallo to identify this huge and stunningly patterned bee as Centris (Ptilotopus) americana (with Doug Yanega pointing me in the right direction with the genus). The name in parenthesis is a subgenus, useful in understanding insect taxonomy where genera can have hundreds of species.
And this is Epicharis (Xanthepicharis) umbraculata, also in the subfamily Centridinae and also collecting oil (as well as pollen, visible on the legs). Dr. Vivallo may be using these photos in an upcoming article on the biology of this subfamily.
Other special birds that we saw in this white sand area were Green-tailed Goldenthroat, Pale-bellied Mourner, and a pair of these Spotted Puffbirds.
Perhaps the most unexpected and exciting find was a pair of Ocellated Crakes in the short grass pasture just outside the gate of the property. The nearest record is about 600 km away, and we found them only when I got the strange urge to play the song, even though I didn’t have the slightest expectation there would be a response, which was indeed almost instantaneous, and only 50 meters away. We actually saw one bird when I shone my green laser pointer over the location where I saw the weeds move, in order to get Jarmo and Inger to look in the right direction. That didn’t totally spook the birds, and with further playback I saw a rufous face and red eye peek out of the dense grass less than a meter away from my feet. But typical for the species they stuck to the densest grass and didn’t cross any of the open areas. My recordings also appear on the Macaulay Library website.
We saw a few butterflies, many which I recognized from Cristalino. This is the swallowtail Battus belus, which amazingly was caught by the quick and patient six-year-old Alex with his bare hands. Will he become a politician, actor, entrepreneur, or entomologist?
This clear-winged beauty is Haetera piera, Piera Satyr.
Metalmarks are my favorite: the tiny Sarota gyas with the furry legs…
…and Mesosemia philocles, sometimes called an “eyemark.”
But even skippers can be colorful, such as this Pythonides jovianus, Variable Blue Skipper.
We saw very few moths this time, not only because it has been very dry, but also during the full moon porch lights tend to not attract as many insects. This sphingid is Callionima parce, Parce Hawkmoth.
This is a silk moth, Therinia buckleyi, which wasn’t at the lights at all but resting during the day on a leaf in the understory.
This one is a day-flying metalmark-moth Hemerophila sp., in the family Choreutidae.
I went out at night three times, and during the first walk Jarmo and I found this Corallus hortulanus, Amazon Tree Boa. It started striking blindly the moment it sensed my infrared signature from about 3 meters away, so I didn’t even try to pick it up (not that I haven’t been bitten with little ill effect by several wild boas over the years); the traces of DEET on my hands probably wouldn’t have done it much good anyway.
I took the whole family including the kids on a short night walk to see if a tarantula was out of her burrow, but we first stopped to marvel at a long and very busy trail of this army ant Eciton sp. probably E. hamatus.
I actually saw but was not able to photograph one of the parasitic silverfish, different that the one I had seen with E. rapax inSE Peru last year.
The tarantula was out, but not very far out of the burrow, and not for long, as they have many possible predators and retreat at the slightest tremor. This is probably in the genus Acanthoscurria, but Google searches on tarantulas deliver so much noise it’s hard to get any good identification information. Species limits are probably not very well known here anyway, considering that only just this year was the common genus Aphonopelma sorted out for North America.
On one short night walk I took on my own, I came across this very small tarantula, with a body only about 3 cm long.
Judging from the eye arrangement, this is a wandering spider, family Ctenidae. Its rather slender appearance had me thinking it was a wolf spider (Lycosidae) or a prowling spider (Miturgidae), so it was good I got some shots of the eyes.
This appears to be Micrathena cyanospina, an orb weaver (Araneidae), though I did not detect any blue tint to the amazing, long spines on the abdomen.
This is the very widespread but always fascinating Araneid, Nephila clavipes, the Golden Silk Orb Weaver. The yellowish tint to the silk here is real.
The way it holds it legs, and then finally the eyes, convinced me this colorful thing was a crab spider, family Thomisdae.
After our 10 days of Amazonian birding and natural history fun, we headed back to Alta Floresta via the Teles Pires ferry for our flight back to Cuiabá. And then onward to the Pantanal.