Archive For: Arachnida

Schizomids, the unstoppable arachnids

What if I told you that right under your nose there is an entire group of arachnids that hardly ever receives any attention? It contains many species and has a worldwide distribution, but you will not hear about them in the news or see them presented on mainstream media. A couple of months ago I gave a talk about minor arachnid orders (any arachnid that is not a spider, scorpion, mite or tick) at Nerd Nite Toronto, and while doing so it suddenly occurred to me that I have never written about shorttailed whip scorpions, or schizomids, on this blog. This is surprising, because it has been six years since I have encountered them in Belize, and I have been keeping a live captive colony of them all this time.

Schizomid or shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus peckorum) from the Footprint Cave, Belize

Schizomid or shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus peckorum) from the Footprint Cave, Belize

Members of order Schizomida are tiny soft-bodied arachnids that inhabit the top layer of soil in caves and under rocks. Some of them also live inside decomposing wood, and several species are myrmecophile, living in ant nests. In these humid habitats they actively search for their prey – tinier invertebrates. In fact we are not really sure what schizomids feed on in the wild, but records show that they will gladly take down Isopods, springtails, mites and other small arthropods. At first glance they look like a sac spider crawling on the ground. However, a closer inspection reveals that their body proportions are different from those of spiders.

Shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus), a representative of the small arachnid order Schizomida. This species is found in rainforest habitat.

Shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus), a representative of the small arachnid order Schizomida. This species is found in rainforest habitat.

Their name comes from the structure of the cephalothorax, which is split into several plates unlike in any other arachnid. Schizomids also have no eyes, which means their perception of the world is mostly tactile- and chemical-based. Their front pair of legs evolved into a sensory organ that can smell and taste as well as provide information on what is lying in front of the arachnid. These legs are called antenniform legs and they are very similar to those found in other arachnids, like whip spiders, vinegaroons, palpigrades, and even some mites, all of which walk on six legs only. The schizomid pedipalps are sturdy and built for grabbing, assisting in prey capture. Interestingly, their hind legs are modified and look very similar to those of crickets, and indeed it is reported that some species can jump to safety when threatened.

Schizomids look like a strange spider with grabby hands and cricket legs!

Schizomids look like a strange spider with grabby hands and cricket legs!

The thick setae on the schizomid pedipalps are used for sensing as well as a catching basket for prey.

The thick setae on the schizomid pedipalps are used for sensing as well as a catching basket for prey.

The schizomid fang-like mouthparts (chelicerae) are found under the pedipalps

The schizomid fang-like mouthparts (chelicerae) are found under the pedipalps

Another important character of schizomids is their short tail or flagellum (as opposed to the long flagellum in other tailed arachnids like vinegaroons and palpigrades). The tail is used for sensing but in males it has a unique structure, and it is possible that it plays a role in courtship or mating. In fact male tails are so different from species to species, that they are often used as an identification character in taxonomy.

Male shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus peckorum). Note the modified tail or flagellum.

Male shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus peckorum). Note the modified tail or flagellum.

Female shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus peckorum) with a modest tail

Female shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus peckorum) with a modest tail

The Schizomida order contains about 350 species globally, with new species still being discovered. There are two existing families; Most of the known species belong to Hubbardiidae, while some Southern North American species comprise the smaller family Protoschizomidae. As a group they are closely related to the vinegaroons (or whip scorpions), and might even share some of their chemical defense against predators – there are reports of at least two species secreting odorous compounds when disturbed.

I encountered schizomids during Bugshot Belize in 2013. Piotr Naskrecki noted that the caves in the area are home to a species of ricinulei (another fascinating group of arachnids that are on my bucket list) and we should keep our eyes open. So I did. Already in the first few meters into the Footprint Cave I found a new species of whip spider, that I would later describe and name Charinus reddelli. But I also found a small arachnid that I have never seen before. Since I have seen very few ricinulei in my life I asked Piotr if this was one. “No” he replied, “but this is something just as good”. It was Belicenochrus peckorum, one of two species of schizomids found in Belize. Later, while dissecting a decomposing log, I found the other species B. pentalatus, which is a little smaller. The latter is the species I am currently keeping in captivity, and it has been fascinating to observe and learn from.

Shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus) lives inside decomposing wood

Shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus) lives inside decomposing wood

One of the surprising things about schizomids is their reproduction. When conditions are favorable, they reproduce sexually like most animals. However, in times of stress and when males are scarce, females can switch on an asexual reproductive mode and lay fertilized eggs that will hatch into clones of the mother. This is very similar to other arthropods like stick insects and aphids, but quite unusual for arachnids. This type of reproduction is called facultative parthenogenesis. In the Belizean species I have been keeping, males were never present. In fact I remember coming home with only one live female, and this female give birth to the entire colony.

Shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus), possibly a gravid female. Being small does not make them immune to parasites - this one is carrying a few mites.

Shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus), possibly a gravid female. Being small does not make them immune to parasites – this one is carrying a few mites.

Similarly to whip spiders and vinegaroons, the females lay their eggs in a sac that they carry until the babies hatch. In small species like B. pentalatus the sac contains only 5-6 eggs, but the eggs are relatively large, which means the hatching babies are born at a size that allows them to hunt small arthropods. Once hatched, the babies climb on the mother’s back and stay there for two weeks before dropping off and starting their independent lives. Brooding females are very skittish; they will drop the babies at any disturbance.

A baby shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus) in ambush for prey

A baby shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus) in ambush for prey

A baby shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus). Believe it or not, this animal is only 1mm long.

A baby shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus). Believe it or not, this animal is only 1mm long.

A juvenile shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus) fresh after molting. The green abdomen is only temporary; it takes a few hours for the yellow-brown pigments to set in.

A juvenile shorttailed whip scorpion (Belicenochrus pentalatus) fresh after molting. The green abdomen is only temporary; it takes a few hours for the yellow-brown pigments to set in.

One of my memories from the encounter with B. peckorum in Belize was a photo session in which Piotr and I were taking turns trying to photograph one of the males. After a good 30mins of chasing the animal at a close distance with the lens, Piotr looked at me frustrated and said it’s impossible. If you follow my posts here then you know that nothing is really impossible when it comes to photography if you are willing to invest the time in it, but I understood him completely. Schizomids are some of the most active arachnids out there, especially if they are exposed (as would be the case when photographing them). Very rarely have I seen them stop to rest. Add their minute size to this equation, and it becomes clear why photographing them can be extremely unrewarding. However with patience and perseverance, you can come up with some decent shots. I hope to encounter more species of schizomids in the future, with their wide distribution there is so much to discover.

Ending 2018 with a bang

Let’s go straight to the punchline: 2018 was a successful year for me. This is important because I am posting this late into 2019, so I had the time to reflect on the passing year’s events.
I was debating if I should write a summary post for 2018 at all. These things get old quickly, especially around the last two weeks of December, when such posts pop up everywhere. Even though I know I am expected to post my favorite photographs from last year, the truth is that I have not been particularly busy taking photos. Instead I have been focusing on other projects, giving invited talks and doing public outreach, as well as adding content to this website. In addition, there were a few notable events this year that helped shaping me as a professional and as a person. So if you want to know what I have been up to in 2018, read on.

Teaching about whip spiders at the Royal Ontario Museum

Teaching about whip spiders at the Royal Ontario Museum

Opinion piece about giving away free photos,
and the rise to fame (not really)

One of the first posts I wrote in 2018 was aimed at people asking for free work. It joined other similar posts (examples are here and here), and to be honest I did not expect to receive any response to it. I merely posted the article so I can go back and refer people to it whenever I am faced with such requests. As many creative freelancers know, being asked to work or provide service for free is far too common. Apparently that post hit close to home because it received echo from fellow photographers and artists, and was later picked up by PetaPixel, one of the biggest photography-related news websites.
The piece featured on PetaPixel spread like wildfire and triggered some interesting discussions. On one hand, not everyone liked what I wrote, and some users even attacked me for it. On the other hand, I found myself discussing important topics like rates and copyrights with other, more experienced professionals. Even though this rant has been years in planning, I admit the post was written in the heat of the moment, and as such it is not a well-worded text. Now that I think about it, it is clear that I could have done a better job. That being said, I have no regrets whatsoever; the post is justified. If anything, having it available on my website serves as a deterrent for anyone who behaves inappropriately and disrespectfully towards creators by asking for free work.

Trip to Colombia

In February I went on a short assignment in Colombia, to photograph a tree. I know, right? It sounds simple and too good to be true, but in reality finding trees that fit what the client had in mind was challenging, not to mention it was not always possible to shoot the tree in the requested high resolution for the project. This trip also gave me a chance to test the Laowa 25mm f/2.8 2.5-5X Ultra Macro lens, and I am happy I did, because it proved to be an outstanding competitor to the renowned Canon MP-E 65mm f/2.8 1-5x macro lens. Laowa is quickly establishing themselves as one of the most interesting lens companies out there, and I am looking forward to see what other innovations they have up their sleeve!

Searching for trees. Anyone seeing any trees around?

Searching for trees. Anyone seeing any trees around?

Tree covered in climbing epiphytes. Is this the perfect tree for the job? Close to perfect, but unfortunately, it was not good enough.

Tree covered in climbing epiphytes. Is this the perfect tree for the job? Close to perfect, but unfortunately, it was not good enough.

Central American tree boa (Corallus ruschenbergerii). One of the benefits of walking around checking out trees, is finding tree-inhabiting animals.

Central American tree boa (Corallus ruschenbergerii). One of the benefits of walking around checking out trees, is finding tree-inhabiting animals.

Katydid nymph showing intense pink coloration or erythrism - a rare phenomenon that is occasionally seen in katydids, in which a genetic mutation causes an absence of the normal green pigment and the excessive production of pink pigment.

Katydid nymph showing intense pink coloration or erythrism – a rare phenomenon that is occasionally seen in katydids, in which a genetic mutation causes an absence of the normal green pigment and the excessive production of pink pigment.

Fairy wasp (family Mymaridae) ovipositing in membracid treehopper egg mass. One of the best finds during this trip (watch this space for an upcoming post about it). This tiny wasp is only 0.6mm in length! Photographed using the Laowa 25mm lens.

Fairy wasp (family Mymaridae) ovipositing in membracid treehopper egg mass. One of the best finds during this trip (watch this space for an upcoming post about it). This tiny wasp is only 0.6mm in length! Photographed using the Laowa 25mm lens.

Trip to Ecuador

In May I returned to my beloved site in Ecuador, this time it wasn’t really to get work done but was more of an escape to spend my birthday (ok, who am I kidding, I still worked during that visit…). I often feel miserable around my birthday and during holidays because many times I have no one to spend them with, and it seemed like a good idea to pass this time in a place that I love. More than anything I needed to clear my head before taking the role of a spider wrangler (up next). This trip ended up being very peaceful and relaxing, somewhat lonely, but still satisfying. I was able to finally find one of my target species for the area, the seasonal jewel scarab, Chrysophora chrysochlora.

Ecuadorian jewel scarab (Chrysophora chrysochlora)

Ecuadorian jewel scarab (Chrysophora chrysochlora)

Bird eater tarantula (Theraphosa sp.). I was extremely happy to encounter this giant for the first time in the wild, and add it to the species checklist for my site.

Bird eater tarantula (Theraphosa sp.). I was extremely happy to encounter this giant for the first time in the wild, and add it to the species checklist for my site.

Male orchid bee (Euglossa intersecta) in mid-flight. This photo is not perfect in many ways: it is dark, the composition is not ideal, and it is also slightly cropped. But I achieved something very difficult here - taking a wide angle macro and freezing an orchid bee in flight. Those bees are fast!

Male orchid bee (Euglossa intersecta) in mid-flight. This photo is not perfect in many ways: it is dark, the composition is not ideal, and it is also slightly cropped. But I achieved something very difficult here – taking a wide angle macro and freezing an orchid bee in flight. Those bees are fast!

Male orchid bees (Euglossa sp.) collecting fragrant compounds from a moss patch

Male orchid bees (Euglossa sp.) collecting fragrant compounds from a moss patch

Baby wandering spider (family Ctenidae)

Baby wandering spider (family Ctenidae)

Spiders exhibition at the Royal Ontario Museum

And then, immediately after returning from Ecuador, I was recruited to the Royal Ontario Museum to work on their “Spiders: Fear & Fascination” exhibit. This is something I knew I wanted to do ever since I heard about this exhibit in December 2016. It was a long wait but I was finally in! I worked full-time as the spider wrangler for seven months at the museum, along with the awesome Mateus Peppineli. The role involved mainly taking care of spiders displayed in the gallery and in the live room, but also delivering presentations to the museum visitors. These presentations were open for whatever came in mind, so I could include information about different arachnids, not just spiders (as can be seen in the photo opening this post). A key component of the presentations was performing live venom milking from spiders and scorpions in front of an audience (you can watch a venom milking presentation in this video). This is something that requires some explanation – the idea was to extract venom from live animals that were sedated, and do it in a way that would not harm the animals and allow for future extraction of venom later on.

Milking venom from a fishing spider at the Royal Ontario Museum. Screenshot from TFO video

Milking venom from a fishing spider at the Royal Ontario Museum. Screenshot from TFO video

This is something I got trained for about a decade ago in Israel, I felt so lucky to be able to not only do this again, but also to present it to other people. In this regard I believe this ROM exhibit was one of a kind. Sure, the original exhibit coming from Australia also had a venom milking component, but I think the exhibit is really as good as the person running the show. I don’t know if there is any other place that has the unusual combination of someone passionate about arachnids, has over 20 years worth of expertise keeping and designing public displays for them, AND is also trained in venom extraction. And this is exactly why this exhibit made it well; people hoarded to see it, many coming back several times for more. Not only it gave me enormous satisfaction to see that people are interested in spiders, but also it showed me that without doubt there is a desire to see a similar permanent exhibit in Toronto, maybe on a larger scale. And I needed that affirmation.

Presenting spiders to an audience at the Royal Ontario Museum. Screenshot from Curiosity in Focus video

Presenting spiders to an audience at the Royal Ontario Museum. Screenshot from Curiosity in Focus video

I met and talked with thousands of people. Many of them came to me wishing to learn more about spiders they saw in their own house or backyard. Children found in me someone who is on their side, because I could understand and relate to their passion for insects and spiders. Some people confessed that I changed their point of view and helped them conquering their fear of spiders. Young visitors told me that watching me working has inspired them to pursue higher education and a career in science. And sure, it was nice being in the spotlight for a little while.

Some screenshots from TV appearances, representing the ROM's "Spiders: Fear & Fascination" exhibit

Some screenshots from TV appearances, representing the ROM’s “Spiders: Fear & Fascination” exhibit

I enjoyed being the ambassador for arachnids on TV and social media. People started recognizing me on the street. Suddenly, I had fans. I got hugs. So many hugs. Some visitors stayed in touch and became close friends. I want to thank everyone who helped making this exhibit into a reality, and all the visitors who gave it a chance and came to see it. Now that the dust has settled I can honestly say that working at the spiders exhibit was one of the best experiences of my life. How do I fill the void that is left, that is the question that bothers me the most right now.

I will never forget this "finger fencing" moment. Screenshot from CP24 Live at Breakfast

I will never forget this “finger fencing” moment. Screenshot from CP24 Live at Breakfast

Social media (Instagram)

As a part of my role at the museum, I decided to join the social media platform Instagram. I did it as an experiment, to see how well I can perform there. If you know me, then you know that I find Instagram useless and crippled compared to the other social media streams, because of the inability to post clickable links or share posts from other users. My initial thought was to share behind-the-scenes moments from my work at the museum, and indeed the very first posts were exactly that. However, I quickly learned that this does not always work well, I did not always have the time to post while working, and if I have to be completely honest, my phone camera is total garbage. Nevertheless, I persisted, posting the same stuff that I post on my other accounts, and people started following. So maybe it is not so bad… I am still a shy noob on Instagram and don’t interact much, but if you remember my post from 2016, I said the exact same thing about Twitter, and today it has become my preferred social media platform. So who knows. I’m ready for an adventure!

Collaborating with Daniel Kwan (Curiosity in Focus)

During my time as the Royal Ontario Museum’s spider wrangler I was fortunate to meet Daniel Kwan, a talented individual who was responsible for running educational programs at the museum as well as producing video content about the different museum exhibits and collections. Since the opening of the spiders exhibit we collaborated many times, producing videos showing live arthropods and their behaviour, as well as activities performed in the venom lab.

Daniel also has several side projects that he runs. Many of them are related to his big passion – games, but he also hosts a couple of podcasts. One of them, Curiosity in Focus, shines a spotlight on people with interesting professional lifestyles and backgrounds, and covers many different fields like science, history, archeology, design, and fiction. Ever since the day we met he has been trying to get me on the podcast, until we finally found the time to sit down one evening and record an episode. So if you like to know about more about me, feel free to check it out here. We chatted about my role as the spider wrangler at the ROM, my military service in Israel, and shared some stories from entomology-related fieldwork. This was so much fun. I am definitely looking forward to future collaborations with Daniel.
Regardless of this episode, I have nothing but good things to say about this podcast. This is Daniel’s own brainchild, he is very passionate about it, and it shows. He always finds amazing people and interesting topics to talk about. One of my personal favorite episodes is a chat with Kevin Rawlings, Canada’s northernmost resident. Check it out if you have a moment. You won’t regret it.

Gilwizen.com in 2018

Due to my trips and later employment at the museum, my posting routine on the blog was inconsistent. I posted only 14 stories on the blog this year, a huge drop compared to 30 posts in the previous year. I am happy with the posts I got to share, but I would like to write more. Even more surprising was to see old posts resurfacing on social media and attracting new readers, notably this one, this one, this one, and… this one? Hmm. Some of these are very old and there is no doubt my writing style has changed over the years. I am tempted to go back and rewrite some of them to make it easier and more interesting to read, but I know that something would be lost if I do so.

One of the framed tarantula molts I made this year. It was already sold before I got to finish it.

One of the framed tarantula molts I made this year. It was already sold before I got to finish it.

One thing that has definitely picked up pace is my shop page. I initially started that page in 2017 to see if there is any interest in my framed “Ethical Molts” (term coined by my dear friend Peggy Muddles, who also made the video below), and since then it has exploded. I have sold and shipped over 30 framed specimens, some went to distant locations overseas. Many times when I upload a new batch of frames it is sold within a few days. I cannot complain.

Final words

As you can see, I have been busy this year. Looking back, 2017 and most of 2016 were painful and unproductive years for me. 2018 marked a much-needed shift in the right direction. It is especially interesting to compare the summary posts from the two previous years to this one. Going back to my closing statement for 2017, a friend and I were discussing life goals and what counts as success. For many people, including my friend, financial prosperity counts as success. For me, success is not about getting rich. It is first about reaching stability (not necessarily financial), and then leaving something behind, making a positive impact on others. And in 2018, I felt I did exactly that. Thank you everyone for being a part of it. I am forever grateful for your support, and my life is so much richer because you are in it.

Me with a giant silk moth (Rhescyntis hippodamia) in Ecuador

Me with a giant silk moth (Rhescyntis hippodamia) in Ecuador

Little Transformers: Deinopis, the ogre-faced spider

Today’s Little Transformer is a little unusual. First off, it is a spider. This spider is so unique in its appearance and behavior that I am surprised it has not inspired any exaggerated depictions in popular culture. It spends most of its time hidden, posing as a harmless twig among the forest vegetation. It is so good at what it does, that unless it moves it would be very easily overlooked. However, when night falls this seemingly harmless twig transforms into a sophisticated killing machine. Meet Deinopis, the ogre-faced spider (also known as net-casting spider).

Net-casting spider (Deinopis sp.) from the Ecuadorian Amazon

Net-casting spider (Deinopis sp.) from the Ecuadorian Amazon

Net-casting spider (Deinopis spinosa) frontal view. Their eye arrangement is one of the weirdest of all spiders. Notice the lateral eyes are pointing down!

Net-casting spider (Deinopis spinosa) frontal view. Their eye arrangement is one of the weirdest of all spiders. Notice the lateral eyes are pointing down!

Ogre-faced spiders are found on every continent except Europe and Antarctica, but they occur mostly in warm regions of the southern hemisphere. Found primarily in Latin America, Africa, Madagascar, and Australia, these spiders all share the same appearance: brown color, elongated body with long forelegs, and an unmistakeable face. The small family Deinopidae contains only two genera: Deinopis, holding most of the species, and Menneus.

Net-casting spider (Deinopis spinosa) camouflaged as a twig or a dried leaf

Net-casting spider (Deinopis spinosa) camouflaged as a twig or a dried leaf

Interesting texture and patterns on the dorsal side of a net-casting spider (Deinopis spinosa). The legs are held tightly to form a typical 'X' shape at rest, making it look like the spider has only four legs.

Interesting texture and patterns on the dorsal side of a net-casting spider (Deinopis spinosa). The legs are held tightly to form a typical ‘X’ shape at rest, making it look like the spider has only four legs.

Deinopis are very unique among spiders for having superb vision, thanks to their huge median eyes.

Net-casting spider (Deinopis spinosa). Those eyes... You can now understand why they are called ogre-faced spiders.

Net-casting spider (Deinopis spinosa). Those eyes… You can now understand why they are called ogre-faced spiders.

A closer look at the median eyes of a net-casting spider (Deinopis spinosa). Staring straight into your wretched soul.

A closer look at the median eyes of a net-casting spider (Deinopis spinosa). Staring straight into your wretched soul.

The big eyes are what gave these spiders their common name, and they are so big that it is easy to miss the other six eyes on the spider’s head. I did my best trying to capture the stone-cold expression on a Deinopis spinosa face, but also check out Michael Doe’s amazing work with the Australian species D. subrufa. These median eyes are extremely sensitive to light, despite lacking any reflective tissue behind the lenses. Instead, a light sensitive membrane is formed inside the eyes every night, and then gets broken down at dawn. This allow the spiders to track subtle movements in complete darkness during their activity hours, something that is essential for their unique hunting strategy. While somewhat close to other weavers, ogre-faced spiders do not construct a fixed web to trap their prey. Instead they make a rather small hand-net, a handkerchief if you wish, that they use to catch insects passing nearby. The silk constructing the net is not sticky but extremely fuzzy and flexible, thanks to a special comb-like structure on the spider’s legs that stretches and frizzle the silk as it is coming out of the spider’s spinnerets.

Net made by a net-casting spider for catching prey

Net made by a net-casting spider for catching prey

A closer look at the net reveals the wooly silk used to make it. If you look carefully you will notice that it is coiled like a spring, allowing the silk to be stretched and expanded to completely cover the prey.

A closer look at the net reveals the wooly silk used to make it. If you look carefully you will notice that it is coiled like a spring, allowing the silk to be stretched and expanded to completely cover the prey.

The spider usually shapes the net as a square, and holds it loose over a branch or a leaf where an insect is likely to walk.

Net-casting spider (Deinopis sp.) from Colombia

Net-casting spider (Deinopis sp.) from Colombia

Once it spots a suitable prey, the spider quickly stretches the net and snatches the passing insect by hand. The net can be stretched and expanded up to five times its original size without being torn, thanks to the special attributes of the silk. It entangles anything it touches. The spider is extremely fast in its response that sometimes it succeeds in capturing passing insects in mid-flight, again – completely by hand. You have to appreciate the speed and accuracy that goes into this hunting technique.

Net-casting spider (Deinopis sp.) ready for an insect to pass on a nearby branch. These spiders usually place themselves right above a possible walkway for arthropods. Photographed in Ecuador

Net-casting spider (Deinopis sp.) ready for an insect to pass on a nearby branch. These spiders usually place themselves right above a possible walkway for arthropods. Photographed in Ecuador

Net-casting spider (Deinopis sp.) from Honduras

Net-casting spider (Deinopis sp.) from Honduras

It is relatively difficult to witness this behaviour in the field, mainly because by observing at night we add another component to the equation – light. In fact, in all my trips to Latin America I have encountered these spiders many times, but only once I was able to see the spider hunting… and totally missing the prey insect. So you can imagine my excitement when I realized I was going to work with one of the species, Deinopis spinosa, while it is on display at the Royal Ontario Museum’s “Spiders: Fear & Fascination” exhibition. For several weeks I tried to get a glimpse of it feeding but without success. One day I decided to toss a cricket close to it before leaving the exhibit area and within a spilt second the spider responded and caught it! I was in awe. I had to find a way to record it on video for people to see. I enlisted Daniel Kwan, one of my colleagues at the museum who has more videography experience, and we set out to produce a short movie. It took us many attempts to get decent footage of the hunting behaviour. Many times the prey crickets tried to hide, and occasionally the spider would respond to them but miss. Even though feeding the spider in an artificial environment means we had more control, it was really difficult. It makes me wonder how long the spider must wait in the wild until it is able to catch a meal.

Also worth mentioning is genus Menneus from the same family. These spiders are much smaller than Deinopis and they lack the large median eyes, therefore they are not true ogre-faced spiders. However, they spin a catch net and use the same strategy for hunting prey. The genus contains only a handful of species, distributed mainly in Australia, but with some representation in Africa. Some of the species are quite beautifully patterned compared to the plain-looking Deinopis, and there are even green-colored species! You can find some photos of Menneus spiders at the bottom of this page.

Something I was thinking about while writing this post – why do I never encounter small deinopids in the field? It would be really cute if they had miniature nets for catching even smaller insects. Even when I look for information online and in the literature, it only concerns medium-sized juveniles and adults. Could it be that the small ogre-faced spiders actually have a different hunting strategy than that of larger individuals?

Debunking Misconceptions: Scorpions

For the past five months I have been working at the Royal Ontario Museum’s “Spiders: Fear & Fascination” exhibition as a full-time spider wrangler, taking care of the live spiders and scorpions, as well as performing live venom extractions. One of the most common interactions I have at the museum are with people looking to confirm certain misconceptions about venomous arachnids. There is a lot of information available out there, and I understand it can be overwhelming and confusing. The sad truth is that a lot of it is also incorrect.  So I thought I should add my voice to the mix, maybe it will help someone who comes across my blog.

Tail and stinger of an Asian forest scorpion (Heterometrus petersii)

Tail and stinger of an Asian forest scorpion (Heterometrus petersii)

First off, nature does not fall neatly into boxes. This is something I emphasize a lot on this blog. It is in our own habit to look for consistency in the world around us, in order to establish some rules that nature follows. Maybe we do it in hopes of controlling and predicting certain happenings in order to live a stress-free life. However, in reality nature has its own laws and does not bend to our desires. The same goes for lumping venomous animals as a group. The search for consistency has led people to come up with guidelines for recognizing venomous animals. The problem is that in nature there is a great deal of deception. On one hand harmless animals try to pass as dangerous ones, and on the other hand medically significant animals may look harmless. It is hard to put all the animals possessing potent venom under the same umbrella, grouped by a single or a couple of characters. They are very different, each species is unique. Are you familiar with the rhyme for distinguishing true coral snakes from their mimics in the US? Take that rhyme across the border to Latin America and it becomes useless. That is because nature does not follow our rules. Let’s demonstrate this with some of the misconceptions surrounding scorpions.

Misconception #1: Is it poisonous?

Let’s start from the beginning. Poison consists of one or more toxins that can do harm when ingested or absorbed through tissue. As far as we know, there are no poisonous scorpions in existence. You can eat scorpions without worries, if that is your thing… However, people who present this question often mean to ask whether scorpions are venomous. Venom, as opposed to poison, is a chemical cocktail that is injected through the tissue into the bloodstream by a needle-like apparatus (stinger, fang, or spine). All scorpions are venomous. It is one of the defining features of the entire arachnid order Scorpiones (along with possessing a pair of grasping pedipalps called chelae or pincers, as well as a tail bearing a stinger). The venom potency is ranked using a unit called LD50 (abbreviation of “Lethal Dose 50%”), which indicates the amount of venom required for killing 50% of the population. The lower the LD50 value, the stronger the venom. In this post I will not discuss LD50 values, I will briefly mention potency as a qualitative character only.

Black fat–tailed scorpion (Androctonus bicolor) from Israel. This genus is very diverse and contains many highly venomous species, as well as some with mild venom.

Black fat–tailed scorpion (Androctonus bicolor) from Israel. This genus is very diverse and contains many highly venomous species, as well as some with mild venom.

Misconception #2: Small scorpions are more dangerous than big ones

This misconception is largely false, and can be broken into two parts. First, size has no bearings on how potent a certain species of scorpion can be. There are small species of scorpions that can be dangerous (mostly members of family Buthidae) as well as large sized species with the same level of potency if not higher (Buthidae again in this case). But we can even take this further and discuss size difference within the same species. In a species with potent venom, smaller sized juveniles carry the exact same venom as adults and have the same level of potency, and can still be dangerous. The smaller size usually means that they can only inject a smaller amount of venom when provoked, and they may not even be able to pierce our skin while stinging. It does not mean that we should carelessly start handling baby scorpions, but their potential for causing harm is lower.

This small scorpion (Compsobuthus schmiedeknechti) from Israel is considered harmless and yet it packs quite a punch when it comes to stings. I have had the misfortune of spending four hours with a numb hand after being tagged by this species.

This small scorpion (Compsobuthus schmiedeknechti) from Israel is considered harmless and yet it packs quite a punch when it comes to stings. I have had the misfortune of spending four hours with a numb hand after being tagged by this species.

Israel pillar tail scorpion (Orthochirus scrobiculosus negebensis) is another small-sized, non-dangerous species. Its sting is often compared to being struck with red hot steel, but otherwise it does not cause any clinical complications.

Israel pillar tail scorpion (Orthochirus scrobiculosus negebensis) is another small-sized, non-dangerous species. Its sting is often compared to being struck with red hot steel, but otherwise it does not cause any clinical complications.

Misconception #3: Yellow scorpions are more venomous than black ones

As much as it would be cool to have scorpions color coded to their venom potency, this is rarely the case. There are yellow scorpions possessing deadly venom as well as ones with extremely weak venom, and the same goes for black scorpion species. It can be extremely difficult to identify scorpions to the species level based on their color alone. This is one of those cases where you need to be familiar with the species, or enlist the assistance of an expert to properly identify the scorpion. One variation of the misconception also makes a mention of red scorpions having the intermediate level of venom potency between the aforementioned ones. Red scorpions? Very few of them out there.

Canada's only native scorpion is the northern scorpion (Paruroctonus boreus). This species lives under rock boulders and in underground burrows, and is considered harmless.

Canada’s only native scorpion is the northern scorpion (Paruroctonus boreus). This species lives under rock boulders and in underground burrows, and is considered harmless.

The deathstalker scorpion (Leiurus hebraeus) from North Africa and the Middle East is one of the deadliest scorpion species in the world, carrying a strong neurotoxic venom that can cause acute allergic reactions, paralysis, and even death. It does not help that it is also extremely common throughout its distribution range.

The deathstalker scorpion (Leiurus hebraeus) from North Africa and the Middle East is one of the deadliest scorpion species in the world, carrying a strong neurotoxic venom that can cause acute allergic reactions, paralysis, and even death. It does not help that it is also extremely common throughout its distribution range.

The Israeli scorpion (Buthus israelis) shares its habitat with the deathstalker scorpion, and may benefit from bearing a strong resemblance to it, however it is a harmless species.

The Israeli scorpion (Buthus israelis) shares its habitat with the deathstalker scorpion, and may benefit from bearing a strong resemblance to it, however it is a harmless species.

The yellow fat-tailed scorpion (Androctonus amoreuxi) is a sand dunes-inhabiting species from Israel. Even though it belongs to the "hot" genus Androctonus, its venom is mild and it is not considered dangerous.

The yellow fat-tailed scorpion (Androctonus amoreuxi) is a sand dunes-inhabiting species from Israel. Even though it belongs to the “hot” genus Androctonus, its venom is mild and it is not considered dangerous.

Misconception #4: A small venom gland indicates more potency compared to a large venom gland

The twisted logic behind this misconception is that a small gland contains less venom, therefore it must be very strong the achieve the desired effect of subduing prey. However, the size of the venom gland has nothing to do with what is stored inside. Venom is highly complex and packed with many chemical compounds, that a single droplet is usually enough to cause some damage. Potent species show a great variety of venom gland sizes and shapes and unfortunately they do not fall under a single group. Genus Androctonus contains many highly venomous species that are characterized by a thick tail and a small venom gland, however there are far deadlier species that posses venom glands that follow the same thickness as the preceding tail segments.

Tail and stinger of the black fat–tailed scorpion (Androctonus bicolor) showing the small venom gland. This species has strong venom.

Tail and stinger of the black fat–tailed scorpion (Androctonus bicolor) showing the small venom gland. This species has strong venom.

Tail and stinger of the deathstalker scorpion (Leiurus hebraeus) showing the large venom gland. This species have even stronger venom than the fat-tail scorpion in the previous photo.

Tail and stinger of the deathstalker scorpion (Leiurus hebraeus) showing the large venom gland. This species have even stronger venom than the fat-tail scorpion in the previous photo.

Misconception #5: A thick tail indicates more potency compared to a thinner tail

Like above, this one is also very inconsistent. Usually a thin tail indicates that the scorpion’s main weapon is its pincers (this is definitely the case for burrowing species), however there are exceptions. Family Buthidae contains extremely venomous species with thick tails but also many dangerous species with thin appendages.

Arabian fat–tailed scorpion (Androctonus crassicauda), with thick tail and pincers. This is a medically significant species with potent venom.

Arabian fat–tailed scorpion (Androctonus crassicauda), with thick tail and pincers. This is a medically significant species with potent venom.

Ecuadorian black scorpion (Tityus asthenes), with thin tail and pincers. And yes, you guessed it - this is a medically significant species with potent venom.

Ecuadorian black scorpion (Tityus asthenes), with thin tail and pincers. And yes, you guessed it – this is a medically significant species with potent venom.

Misconception #6: Thick pincers indicate weaker venom compared to thin pincers

This one is usually correct. As mentioned in the previous misconception, a scorpion with thick and stubby chelae relies more on force to kill its prey rather than venom. This is true for many underground species hunting from their burrow. However, there are few exceptions. Some members of family Buthidae have thick pincers and carry a strong neurotoxic venom that can be harmful and sometimes even lethal to humans. Another example are some members of family Diplocentridae, underground scorpions with impressive thick pincers. Their venom contains compounds that can cause necrosis, the death and rotting of tissue. This is usually not lethal, but should not be overlooked either because the risk of losing the tissue or organ is there.

Jericho scorpion (Nebo hierichonticus), an underground diplocentrid species with a thin tail and thick pincers. And yet its venom can cause necrosis of the tissue, which can lead to clinical complications.

Jericho scorpion (Nebo hierichonticus), an underground diplocentrid species with a thin tail and thick pincers. And yet its venom can cause necrosis of the tissue, which can lead to clinical complications.

Misconception #7: Scorpions will always use their stinger first in defence

Scorpions possess a stinger and venom primarily for the purpose of subduing prey. Their venom is not really intended for us and because it is precious for the scorpion, it prefers not to waste it. However, if cornered with no chance to flee, the scorpion will not hesitate to use its stinger to push back the aggressor and to clear a path of escape. Because venom is scarce, many scorpions will first try to flee or use their chelae in defence. While a sting can be painful, never underestimate a scorpion’s pinch. Even species with thin pincers can surprise with the sheer force they use to grab. After all, this organ evolved just for that purpose – grabbing, holding, and pulling. Scorpions hold on tight to whatever they caught, usually a prey or mate, but also aggressors like humans, in a “tear your flesh right off your body” kind of grip. You can easily get bruised or even cause a wound to open if you try to fight the scorpion’s grip and pull back.

Asian forest scorpion (Heterometrus petersii). Just by looking at this tank you can tell that it is not about the venom. It is all about physical strength. This species is harmless, but oh boy they can pinch HARD!

Asian forest scorpion (Heterometrus petersii). Just by looking at this tank you can tell that it is not about the venom. It is all about physical strength. This species is harmless, but oh boy they can pinch HARD!

Misconception #8: Scorpions sting themselves when in danger

Many people still believe this misconception for some reason, so it gets an honorable mention on this list. Scorpions do not commit suicide. Interestingly, scorpions are not immune to their own venom, and they definitely take advantage of that – an encounter with a conspecific will often result in a struggle and cannibalism. However as mentioned above, when in danger most scorpions try to flee first. If that does not work they turn to defend themselves, and use their stinger as a last resort. An agitated scorpion will try to sting just about anything; scorpions do not see well and use their tail as a probe to find a suitable spot for stinging. Sensory hairs located close to the stinger provide the scorpion with information about the texture, softness, and identity of what it is about to sting. This defence response is often frantic, with rapid tail movements and failed stinging attempts. The scorpion arches its tail a lot in the process, and sometimes the stinger gets stuck in the substrate close to the scorpion’s body. From a certain point of view it may look like the scorpion is actively stinging itself but this could not be further from the truth. It is trying to sting everything but itself.

Portrait of Ecuadorian black scorpion (Tityus asthenes)

Portrait of Ecuadorian black scorpion (Tityus asthenes)

Bonus misconception: Scorpions use their UV fluorescence to warn predators

This one I heard from some of the museum visitors. First, we need to make a distinction between bioluminescence, UV color pattern, and UV fluorescence. Bioluminescence is the production and emission of light by an organism through a chemical reaction. It is an active process that is usually used for communication or attracting prey. Examples for bioluminescence can be seen in bacteria, fungi, and invertebrates. UV color patterns are visual signals that can be seen only in the ultraviolet spectral range. We cannot normally see them, and in order to do so we need to block all the visible light first and look through a special filter that allows only short wavelength light to pass through. Such color patterns can be found on flowers to attract and guide pollinators, but also on flying insects (like butterflies) in order to signal potential mates and competitors. Contrary to the previous terms, UV fluorescence is the emission of light by a substance that has absorbed ultraviolet light. In animals this means that different coloration or patterns become visible after exposure to UV light. It is a passive process that completely depends on a UV light source. In scorpions, almost all species are known to fluoresce due to a special characteristic of their exoskeleton, but the intensity of the emission varies widely and is faint in some species. The role that fluorescence plays in scorpions is largely unknown. Scorpions have poor vision and are not able to detect colors. Moreover, they are primarily nocturnal and avoid sunlight, which the main contributor of UV. Because of this, the scorpion fluorescence is not something that is visible under natural conditions. To the best of our knowledge, there are no predators that can emit UV light from their body while searching for prey (even though I must admit that it would be cool), so I think it is safe to say that scorpions do not use the fluorescence as a warning signal.

Israeli Gold scorpion (Scorpio palmatus) glowing under UV light. Of all scorpions, members of family Scorpionidae have the brightest fluorescence.

Israeli Gold scorpion (Scorpio palmatus) glowing under UV light. Of all scorpions, members of family Scorpionidae have the brightest fluorescence.

Sand scorpion (Buthacus leptochelys leptochelys) glowing under UV light

Sand scorpion (Buthacus leptochelys leptochelys) glowing under UV light

Bark scorpions (Tityus sp.) are a good example for species with a relatively faint fluorescence. Notice that the newborn babies on the female's back glow even less. Their fluorescence will build up and brighten with age.

Bark scorpions (Tityus sp.) are a good example for species with a relatively faint fluorescence. Notice that the newborn babies on the female’s back glow even less. Their fluorescence will build up and brighten with age.

Scorpions are fascinating arachnids. I have always argued they are some of nature’s best designs when it come to survival. Equipped with the means to grab, hold onto, and subdue their prey, but still capable of becoming flat enough to squeeze into tight spaces to avoid predators. They also posses a body armour that makes them resilient and impenetrable to the elements (scorpions recover well after hours of being submerged in water). Not to mention that most scorpions can dig very well, proving to be excellent architects in their habitats by constructing underground shelters for their own use as well as other animals. And as for their venom, it contains many potentially useful compounds, some of which are being tested for use in medicine as well as pest control. Let’s try to appreciate and enjoy scorpions for the magnificent creatures they are, without falsely lumping them into groups based on superficial characters. They mean us no harm.

Spiderception: jumping spider-mimicking jumping spider (Parnaenus sp.)

After a long hiatus of nearly 5 months, I thought it is about time I shake the dust off this blog and return to posting. This month we are celebrating Arachtober, highlighting spiders and other arachnids to promote appreciation and understanding that these animals are crucial to the normal function of ecosystems, and that they have their rightful place on this planet. Today is also International Jumping Spider Day, so it is a great opportunity to discuss something interesting that some of these cuties share.

Last February I was fortunate to spend a week in Colombia for a photography assignment. In one of our day hikes I checked a cluster of hanging vine flowers to see if there are interesting insects hiding inside. I did not find any insects except for ants, but as I was peeking inside the inflorescence I saw a row of shiny eyes staring back at me. I thought to myself – Oh, cool. A jumping spider. And indeed it was a salticid spider, however what I thought were eyes was nothing but a deception. In fact the spider’s head was facing away from me, and it was busy munching on a small moth.

Male Parnaenus jumping spider playing peek-a-boo. These spiders become even more interesting when viewed from behind.

Male Parnaenus jumping spider playing peek-a-boo. These spiders become even more interesting when viewed from behind.

Lateral view of a female Parnaenus jumping spider from Colombia. The color pattern on the abdomen resembles jumping spider eyes.

Lateral view of a female Parnaenus jumping spider from Colombia. The color pattern on the abdomen resembles jumping spider eyes.

Female jumping spider (Parnaenus sp.). They are much cuter when looking straight at you!

Female jumping spider (Parnaenus sp.). They are much cuter when looking straight at you!

Even though there are almost no identification keys for jumping spiders from the neotropics, I am confident that the spider I found was a female Parnaenus. For the most part these are plain looking jumping spiders, but their abdomen is usually covered with blue and green iridescent scales. On both side of the abdomen they have a row of spots that look exactly like jumping spider eyes. In fact, due to the contrast with the colorful abdomen, those spots are even more noticeable than the spider’s actual eyes. And it’s not just the female Parnaenus that possess these spots; the smaller and more colorful males have them too.

Male Parnaenus jumping spider. Huge head with stunning iridescent colors.

Male Parnaenus jumping spider. Huge head with stunning iridescent colors.

Dorsal view of a male jumping spider (Parnaenus sp.). From this angle you can see how easy it is to mistake the spots on the abdomen for eyes.

Dorsal view of a male jumping spider (Parnaenus sp.). From this angle you can see how easy it is to mistake the spots on the abdomen for eyes.

Jumping spiders are visual creatures. They rely on visual cues and their good eyesight to detect prey, competitive conspecifics, and potential mates. This is why many species of jumping spiders developed complex color patterns to assist in communication with other individuals. Other arthropods also take advantage of this and deploy mimicry to fool these spiders and avoid predation. One of the most common jumping spider mimicry is the presence of eyespots arranged in a row, to resemble the spiders’ large frontal eyes. I have already written about such cases on this blog, usually demonstrated by moths, but other insects as well (see here and here for examples). We have also seen jumping spiders using mimicry to resemble insects. What we have not seen yet though, is jumping spiders mimicking jumping spiders. Is this even possible? Well, yes and no.
Yes, because there are definitely jumping spider species that display a clear salticid eyespot pattern away from their head where their actual eyes are – like the Parnaenus species presented in this post. And no, because we have no evidence that they are truly mimicking other jumping spiders.

Male Parnaenus jumping spider. So pretty.

Male Parnaenus jumping spider. So pretty.

A closer look at the abdomen of a male Parnaenus jumping spider. False eyes between green and blue scales.

A closer look at the abdomen of a male Parnaenus jumping spider. False eyes between green and blue scales.

This spiderception is quite confusing. At first it looks like the salticids deploy a “false head” anti-predator tactic in order to fool their predators and direct their attacks away from the animal’s real head. But in the case of these spiders the eyespots pattern is located on the abdomen, the most vulnerable part of the spider’s body. On the other hand, if they really use this pattern to communicate with other jumping spiders, we would expect to see a specific behavior associated with it, like waving the abdomen or displaying it in front of another individual. And to the best of my knowledge there are no such observations in existence.

Male Parnaenus jumping spider from Colombia

Male Parnaenus jumping spider from Colombia

Parnaenus is not the only jumping spider genus that has eyespots on its abdomen, by the way. Other dendryphantine jumping spiders possess this character, to varying degrees. Those include the beautiful Paraphiddipus and Metaphiddipus jumpers and the scorpion spiders of genus Lurio. The latter is a very unusual jumper – the forelegs are disproportionally robust and long compared to the others, both in males and females.

Female scorpion spider (Lurio sp.) guarding eggs. Taironaka, Colombia

Female scorpion spider (Lurio sp.) guarding eggs. Taironaka, Colombia

Scorpion spiders (Lurio sp.) have a color pattern on their abdomen that is very similar to that of Parnaenus spiders.

Scorpion spiders (Lurio sp.) have a color pattern on their abdomen that is very similar to that of Parnaenus spiders.

Female scorpion spider (Lurio sp.) guarding eggs. Even without the pretty colors these spiders are very unique, with their long thick forelegs.

Female scorpion spider (Lurio sp.) guarding eggs. Even without the pretty colors these spiders are very unique, with their long thick forelegs.

The salticid eyespot pattern is quite common in nature, and it seems that possessing it positively affects the bearer’s chances of survival. Even jumping spiders themselves have it on their body. But do they really use it for active communication? Or is it more a passive way for them to say ‘I am a jumping spider inside and out’? Those are questions that are still left unanswered, at least until someone follows and documents their behavior.

Lyssomanes – the spider from the upside down

Out of all the different microhabitats plants provide for organisms, the living leaf is arguably the most underrated one. On the surface it seems that it pales in comparison to the rich leaf litter of the forest understory, or to the complex bark of trees that provide hiding and hunting spots for many animals. However, although the green leaf may look innocent, it in fact holds many stories of deception and survival. The upper surface of the leaf offers exposure to sunlight and water, as well as additional nutrients coming from above. It can serve as a solid base for the growth of ferns, mosses, lichens, and fungi. It can also be folded and glued to create a nest or shelter for an animal or its eggs. Not to mention that in many plants the entire leaf comprises of edible material available for herbivores. But there is another plane of existence, a much darker reality. It is located in a parallel dimension – an inverted copy of the leaf upper surface. This is the upside down world of the leaf underside. Many organisms live here; some only take shelter during the day and resume activity on the upside world at night, others prefer to feed under the leaf to avoid predators. But one of the most fascinating examples is a group of predators that learned to utilize the leafy upside down for ambushing prey. I have already written about two of those, and today I would like to present another member of this guild: Lyssomanes, the green jumping spider.

Green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.). The spider's pale color helps it to blend in with the leaf it is sitting on.

Green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.). The spider’s pale color helps it to blend in with the leaf it is sitting on.

At first glance Lyssomanes doesn’t look like a typical jumping spider. It has very long and slender legs, and prefers to move by running and using short leaps as opposed to the jumps that characterize most members of the salticid spider family. In addition, the spider is almost completely hairless, sporting a pale body color, usually (but not always) green, and occasionally semi-translucent. Unlike other jumping spiders, the only scales covering the body are clustered as a crown on its head. Those can be white, yellow, orange, red, or any combination of these colors, depending on the species and developmental stage. Sometimes dark banding is present on the legs, usually in adult males.

Green jumping spiders (Lyssomanes sp.) often have a glossy, semi-translucent body, with a crown of colorful scales on their head.

Green jumping spiders (Lyssomanes sp.) often have a glossy, semi-translucent body, with a crown of colorful scales on their head.

The genus Lyssomanes contains around 90 species, all distributed in the Americas. Many species have similar external appearance. The type species from which the genus was described is named Lyssomanes viridis (from Latin – green jumping spider), but if I want to be completely honest, almost every species I encounter looks ‘viridis’ to me. They are just so green!

Not all Lyssomanes jumping spiders are green. Some are lemon yellow like this species from Belize.

Not all Lyssomanes jumping spiders are green. Some are lemon yellow like this species from Belize.

One of the most noticeable features of Lyssomanes jumping spiders is their enormous anterior median eyes. Because of the spider’s pale color, it is also very easy to observe the internal retinal movements as the spider angles and focuses its field of view. The eyes may appear black at times, or pale green, crossed, or alternating (here’s a fantastic video showing this, and watch what happens when an ant passes by!).

Green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) staring straight back with its huge eyes. If you don't think it is cute you might want to check your pulse.

Green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) staring straight back with its huge eyes. If you don’t think it is cute you might want to check your pulse.

Female Lyssomanes are very modest in their appearance. Males on the other hand, are impressive beasts with long pedipalps and elaborate chelicerae, often armed with thick setae and teeth. The latter are used in male fights for mates. Males also have extremely long legs, which they use for pushing an opponent and waving to females as a part of the courtship process.

Male Lyssomanes spiders have long legs and pedipalps for signalling conspecifics, and often sport impressive chelicerae for fighting other males.

Male Lyssomanes spiders have long legs and pedipalps for signalling conspecifics, and often sport impressive chelicerae for fighting other males.

Closeup on a male Lyssomanes spider. Notice the teeth on the long chelicera.

Closeup on a male Lyssomanes spider. Notice the teeth on the long chelicera.

Portrait of a male green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) with his long chelicerae

Portrait of a male green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) with his long chelicerae

Similarly to other predatory dwellers of the leafy upside down, Lyssomanes spiders deploy an ingenious hunting technique. The spider’s huge eyes are a good indication of its hunting method – it uses its excellent vision to locate prey. Lyssomanes jumping spiders are diurnal sit-and-wait predators of dipterans and other soft-bodied arthropods. They prefer to sit on leaves that are exposed to the sun, waiting in ambush for a visitor on the upper surface to cast a dark shadow. If the shadow is of the right size and shape the spider will shoot itself from the underside to the upper leaf surface and snatch the unsuspecting prey.

Male green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) ambushing prey on the underside of a leaf backlit by the sun

Male green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) ambushing prey on the underside of a leaf backlit by the sun

Occasionally, if sunlight is obstructed, the spider will explore the leaf and actively search for passing insects. It does not, however, stay loyal to one leaf. Once spotted, the spider usually does not take any chances and relocates to a nearby leaf.

Snap! When startled, the green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) swiftly moves to the other side of the leaf.

Snap! When startled, the green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) swiftly moves to the other side of the leaf.

Although jumping spiders rarely use silk for hunting, most of them build a small silky sleeping bag inside a crevice or a folded leaf for resting at night and molting. Lyssomanes is unique in that it does not construct such a shelter. Instead, it lines the underside of the leaf with a thin carpet of silk, and rests on it completely exposed.

Green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) spinning silk on the underside of a leaf

Green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) spinning silk on the underside of a leaf

Gravid females construct a similar web for their eggs. Passing insects often trample the sheet, which triggers a predation response from the spider.

Female green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) protecting her eggs

Female green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) protecting her eggs

Cannibalism is common in salticids. Here, a green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) is preying on a smaller spider that happened to walk on its leaf.

Cannibalism is common in salticids. Here, a green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) is preying on a smaller spider that happened to walk on its leaf.

Unfortunately, this habit of Lyssomanes to sit exposed also means that they are sitting ducks for other predators, usually other species of jumping spiders. Remember – it is a harsh world out there and it’s not easy being green!

The grass is not always greener on the other side of the fence - a green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) has fallen prey to another jumping spider!

The grass is not always greener on the other side of the fence – a green jumping spider (Lyssomanes sp.) has fallen prey to another jumping spider!

 

A short note about ethics

Last week I took this photo of a jumping spider, Phiddipus insignarius, and although I consider it a good photo, it is not a photo I am proud of.
Why?

Female jumping spider (Phiddipus insignarius) displaying

Female jumping spider (Phiddipus insignarius) displaying

I believe I pushed it a little too far here.

By the time you are reading this, you may have seen photos of jumping spiders floating online. They are charismatic, inquisitive, and intelligent little arachnids. Their big eyes and cutesy appearance make it possible to open a door for communication between spider enthusiasts and people suffering from arachnophobia. This photo is a little different. This is the face of stressed spider. Jumping spiders have a habit of exploring the world around them, but they usually avoid confrontation. They have a typical threat display that they use when they are annoyed or feel threatened, by raising their forelegs and exposing their chelicerae. At this point they are no different from a wandering spider warning to back off. And if not left alone, they will strike. The female Phiddipus in this photo was clearly fed up with my attempts at stalking her, and wanted to show me that she had enough.

Photographs of small animals can be a great tool for communication and education by revealing the hidden beauty of overlooked creatures. However, we tend to forget how things are from their perspective. They do not like to be cornered or pushed around. The last thing they expect is a giant being trying to manipulate them to pose in a certain way. Ethics in nature photography is an important topic that should be brought into the conversation. And yet almost no one talks about it (see Nicky Bay’s fantastic resource on the topic). Paul Bertner posted a lot about it on social media during his assignment last year (as well as on his own website), sparking some of the best discussions I have seen on photography ethics and what information should be disclosed with a photo (he later coined the term EE – Ethical Exif, information that is incorporated into his photos). I would like to see transparency and compassion for the living subject becoming the standard in nature photography. Every nature photographer I know is longing for a “perfect” subject – one that displays an interesting natural behavior but also does not move too much. Yet we forget that many times photography is just another type of disturbance to animals. At the end of the day, we must ask ourselves – was this really necessary?

In the case of the spider here, I got the message loud and clear and left her alone. She was clearly not interested in playing. I will get back to photographing her some other time, maybe when she is in a better mood.

The female Phiddipus insignarius is much more charming when she is relaxed.

The female Phiddipus insignarius is much more charming when she is relaxed.

Your personal opinion means nothing to nature

In the past month I have been involved in some pretty interesting conversations surrounding public perception of stinging and biting insects. This is in large part due to a talk I was preparing about medically significant arthropods (more on that in the next post). Some of the civilized discussions ended in surprising way for me, with a few people unfriending or unfollowing me on social media just because they could not understand my point. I am going to try and address the issues I opened by using excerpts from those discussions. I feel like this is going to end up being a ranty post, but I must do it. Feel free to chime in with your thoughts in the comment section – they are most welcome.

Examining a queen European hornet (Vespa crabro) found overwintering under a log.

Examining a queen European hornet (Vespa crabro) found overwintering under a log.

To put it simply, there are two topics I want to open:

1. “Aggressive” arthropods

The first discussion evolved after I shared a conversation I had with a twitter user about a photo of a wasp.
The guy immediately took the stance of “all wasps are aggressive”, and continued to give examples from his own experience of wasps nesting close to his window. I do not want to get into too many details (you can see that conversation in the screen grab), I will just mention that a) the photo showed a male wasp that is incapable of stinging, and b) the nesting wasps do not know they are using this guy’s window. They do not even know what a window is!!!
There seems to be some confusion surrounding the term “aggressive” when describing arthropods, and animals in general. Hippopotamuses are aggressive. Some bears are aggressive. Crows can be aggressive if you injure one of their members. I think you get my point. With arthropods, I am not sure I have a clear cut example of aggressiveness. Maybe “aggressive” is not the right word. Don’t get me wrong, venomous stinging animals are still somewhat dangerous and occasionally do land people in the hospital after being stung. But I ask you, when you call them aggressive, what do you mean exactly? Aggressive to who? Anyone within the range of a nest or just anyone? Do they chase and attack people without provocation? Who took the first step? Sometimes being too close to wasps triggers their defense behavior. But then again, you really have to rub it in their face and disturb them for this alarm response to occur.

Yellowjackets (Vespula germanica) feeding on a fallen pear

Yellowjackets (Vespula germanica) feeding on a fallen pear

For example, I was very close when I took this photo of the yellowjackets. The wasps were active all around me, and NOTHING happened. These wasps were very nice to me. Seriously, I do not understand why they have such a bad reputation. Don’t start nothing, won’t be nothing. I am not saying anyone else should try to do the same. That would be foolish, especially if you are not familiar with wasp behavior. But I would not call them aggressive. I see wasps and other stinging arthropods as “defensive”. I think the difference between aggression and defense is the presence of provocation. If an animal attacks without provocation, I would classify it as aggression. What is debatable is the definition of provocation. Clearly the meaning of it to us is different from that perceived by social insects. Do not forget that in their world chemical communication takes a substantial part. If the wind blows in their direction, carrying over our scent to the nest, that would be considered a provocation and will trigger a defensive behavior. Things are different if you accidentally hit a wasp nest. Then they will “aggressively” defend their nest.

For many people the sight of a hornet nest in their backyard is terrifying. But in reality these wasps are only interested in making it through the summer months.

For many people the sight of a hornet nest in their backyard is terrifying. But in reality these wasps are only interested in making it through the summer months.

Of course, no one can tell what goes on in a wasp’s mind. They cannot read our minds either. They do not know our intentions just as much as we do not know theirs. There has to be some sort of mutual respect if you want this to end peacefully. Unfortunately, that is something that a lot of people do not have towards nature today. People just see ‘wasp’ and go batshit crazy.

I agree that in some areas where they are invasive, wasps are a problem, particularly in islands. They forage on native fauna, spreading fast and wrecking havoc in their path. But is it aggressiveness? Or is it evidence that they are just very good at what they are supposed to do? It is just foraging and nothing more. Because they thrive in areas with no natural enemies, their food hunts may seem like the wasps are out of control, but they are really just doing their thing to survive and reproduce. Still, they need to be eradicated from these habitats, no doubt.

Going back to the meaning of the word “aggressive”, it shows how difficult it is to communicate without having a clear definition of the word. This is more a discussion about semantics than anything else. Now, I am guilty for being stuck in my own bubble with no idea how things are perceived by others. Each person has their own definition of what being aggressive is, and this is in part related to their personal experience as a human. As noted by a friend of mine, this is largely due to the unprovoked aggressiveness we know from human troublemakers and the unnecessarily violent overreaction that happens when someone thinks they took enough beating and lashes back out. I think the first step is to differentiate the use of the term “aggressive” for describing human behavior and animal behavior. Here is why I stopped using the term frequently when discussing animals:
It crates a negative outlook on nature.
We tend to bring our human-centric approach to nature. “Those animals are trying to hurt me”. “They built a nest on my property”. I understand that it is frustrating to discover a potentially injurious animal in one’s living space, if this had happened to me I would want them removed too. But we must learn to put ourselves out of the picture. Those animals are not there because of us. They are there because the harsh competition in nature is forcing them to do what they can to survive. It just so happens that our living space feels safe for them too, but can you blame them?

2. “Purpose” in the natural world

Perhaps one of the questions I get asked the most, even more often than which camera equipment I use, is what is the purpose of –insert pest species here-:
What is the purpose of flies?
What are mosquitoes good for?
What is the purpose of wasps in nature?

I think these questions stem from a very common human behavior. From an early age we have this innate, almost inexplicable urge to ask “why?” about everything. We are curious to break down how things work around us, and if the world is constructed from tiny pieces, then every piece must have its own purpose assigned to it.
The real question here is who assigns these purposes. Is it man? That would be a very anthropocentric view of life. Conversely, if you believe a purpose is assigned from above by an all-powerful being such as god, then you should not be asking an entomologist these questions. You should ask god. (go and do that right now. It’s OK, we’ll wait. Are you back? Good. Let’s continue) In contrast, if we look at the natural world from an evolutionary perspective, then yes, all the pieces have their rightful place in the big puzzle, otherwise they would not exist.

This is why I believe the questions mentioned above are phrased horribly. Using the word “purpose” suggests that there must also be a benefit to us, humans, to justify the existence of something. That is the wrong way to look at the world. This search for purposes, for meaning in everything, is a characteristic of human nature. Well, what is the purpose of humans then? Why are we here? This is not an easy question to answer when you start thinking about it seriously. Because one person may think humans are on this planet for one purpose, while another person will think of a different purpose for our existence. But let’s not get too philosophical and go back to arthropods and other pests.

What is the purpose of flies/mosquitoes/wasps/ticks/leeches?
To survive.
A better way to look at this would be to ask what role those animals play in nature. To this question there is a concrete answer, because every species has its natural history. The pest insects mentioned above break down organic matter, pollinate, and regulate the populations of other arthropods. I want to take this opportunity to give an example for such an inquiry gone totally wrong, and use it to forward the discussion and paint the bigger picture.

Last week I shared a photo of an African tick, Dermacentor rhinocerinus. The only reason I posted it was because I thought it was beautiful, and I wanted to show that it is possible to appreciate such an animal even though I would not want it to suck my blood.
To be honest, I already got used to getting hate comments and I expected some negative responses to arrive. And arrive they did.
Let’s analyze this conversation together.
In this first part of the conversation, a person leaves a comments that ticks are never beautiful, and that their existence has no justification. This a subjective statement, so I reply in the same manner. Then they go on by saying that ticks serve no purpose in the ecosystem, and that nature would be better off without them. This kind of comments make me cringe. If an organism exists right now as we speak, it means two things: it has a well-based role in nature, and it is extremely good at what it does.
I am copying my reply because I think it is worth reading:

The only thing that ticks do in nature, just like any other animal, is survive. That is the one job they have – to continue the existence of their species. They do so by feeding on blood of other animals. And by doing that (their “role”, if you wish), they dilute and remove the weak individuals from the mammalian population. Now, what is important to understand here, is that ticks do not exist to spread diseases. They are blood feeders. The disease pathogens come from mammals and birds. Ticks have no mutualistic relationships with the bacteria, viruses, and protozoans that they vector. Spreading diseases is more of an artifact of their feeding habits. You want a world without ticks? Fine, but just like you said ecosystems would adapt to their absence, those disease pathogens will continue to thrive in their mammalian hosts, and nature will find a way to get those diseases back into humans.
I’m going to take a risk by saying a world completely free of diseases is a world without life.

The next part is really interesting. After explaining that ticks belong in the natural world no less than other animals (as well as humans), the person who started the conversation goes back to their original stance. Suddenly they remember that they already know and understand everything that has been discussed so far, but they insist that ticks cannot be referred to as beautiful. It is blasphemy. What I find amazing is that this person accused me of having a naïve perspective of biology because I thought a tick was beautiful. This is coming from a person who spent much of his time breeding killifishes, a hobby fish that is praised and prized for its beauty. Oh, the irony.

Conclusion

What these two topics have in common is showing that people tend to bring a lot of their emotions into the conversation when they talk about arthropods they hate. I understand that you do not like insects and arachnids. I also understand that you feel like they are chasing you. However, please trust me when I say there is absolutely no stinging arthropod that is out to get you. They use their stinger for defense only. If you do feel like something is coming after you, please consult a physician or a psychiatrist – you might suffer from delusional parasitosis, entomophobia, or arachnophibia (all totally normal, and treatable by the way!). Also please be aware that there are people out there who find these creatures fascinating and beautiful, even pest insects like mosquitoes. If they can do it, maybe these bugs are not so bad after all? Give them a chance. You may find that the fear and hate you experience are only a manifestation of not knowing enough about these animals. And at the very least, be respectful and compassionate to other people, even if they hold a different opinion than yours.
At the end of the day, your personal opinion means nothing to nature. Nature will continue to function regardless of what you feel. You know what does mean a lot to nature? Your actions.

 

Little Transformers: Myrmarachne formicaria

Little Transformers is back! And this time our star is a small jumping spider that goes out of its way to masquerade as an ant.

I am often accused for not writing about topics related to Canada on this blog. While this is not entirely true, I could have without doubt posted more about local critters. It is a great time to do so now, as I will be taking the opportunity to address several events.
Firstly, it is now October, and we are getting closer and closer to Halloween (Oct 31st). Nine years ago, the Arachtober initiative was born: why wait till the end of the month to celebrate spiders? Let’s celebrate them and other arachnids throughout the entire month of October! And so, during the month of October we give arachnids more exposure in hopes to educate the general public about these magnificent and important creatures.
Secondly, a new initiative is slowly forming, International Jumping Spider Day, on October 10th. The idea is to use the easily adored jumping spiders as the gateway arachnid for changing the often-negative public perception of spiders. I wholeheartedly support this idea and hope to see it catching on.
Lastly, a shameless plug: You may have noticed that this blog is nominated for the 2017 People’s Choice Awards: Canada’s Favourite Science Online. It is a huge honor to be included with other excellent science blogs and sites on the same list. If you like the content and stories that I post, you can show your appreciation by voting following this link. I wish to thank those who already voted in support of this blog. While this nomination has nothing to do with spiders, I thought it is a great opportunity to write a blog post about an arthropod found in Canada.

Female ant-mimicking jumping spider (Myrmarachne formicaria) wants your attention

Female ant-mimicking jumping spider (Myrmarachne formicaria) wants your attention

After this short introduction, it is time to present our first local Little Transformer, the ant-mimicking jumping spider Myrmarachne formicaria. It is one of the nicest looking spiders here in Ontario, and it is surprisingly abundant in its habitat. Alas, there is a small catch here. While this jumping spider is local, it is not native to Canada. This species was first detected in North America in 2001, and later established in Tommy Thompson Park in Toronto in 2015. It originates in the Palearctic region, more specifically Europe and Asia. Despite this, these spiders feel right at home in Toronto, as it seems that they are spreading away from the park containing the main population. This year, Sean McCann recorded Myrmarachne in Scarborough (east Toronto), and I found them in Mississauga (west of Toronto).

Female ant-mimicking jumping spider (Myrmarachne formicaria) masquerading as an ant

Female ant-mimicking jumping spider (Myrmarachne formicaria) masquerading as an ant

Myrmarachne formicaria is an elongated jumping spider that takes the appearance of a small ant, and here in Ontario it is associated with the European fire ant, Myrmica rubra, also an introduced species. Isn’t it interesting how these two non-native species managed to find each other on unfamiliar land? The spider has long and slender legs just like those of an ant, and the banded forelegs are slightly thicker to resemble antennae. The cephalothorax has a depression to echo the segmentation in ants separating head from thorax. The abdomen is long with a narrow connection to the cephalothorax, reminiscent of an ant’s petiole. Surprisingly, in this species the pedipalps (normally a distinguishing character between males and females) are swollen in females, a trait usually seen only in males. Males on the other hand have enormous toothed chelicerae that stick right out of their faces. I suspected this is a sexually selected trait used in fights for females, and this was later confirmed by Sean McCann (check out his amazing shots here).

Female ant-mimicking jumping spiders (Myrmarachne formicaria) have swollen pedipalps

Female ant-mimicking jumping spiders (Myrmarachne formicaria) have swollen pedipalps

Male duck-mimicking jumping spide... um, excuse me ANT-mimicking jumping spider. Quack quack.

Male duck-mimicking jumping spide… um, excuse me ANT-mimicking jumping spider. Quack quack.

This begs the question, why do Myrmarachne spiders look like ants? Do the spiders use their appearance to fool the ants into thinking they are members of their own colony in order to sneak up on them and prey on ant workers or larvae? Not really. For starters, the ant species approached by Myrmarachne formicaria are usually not visual creatures. They rely more on their chemical communication, using volatile pheromones, for navigation and recognition. Moreover, the spiders seem to deliberately avoid any contact with the ant workers. They may walk among the ants, but they always keep their distance from them. In fact, when I experimented and isolated a few spiders within a group of ants, the spiders chose to stay still, and only when the path was clear they made a run for it. I also noticed that the ants display an aggressive response when encountering a spider. So the ants are not the target of this mimicry. Who is? Us. Or more precisely, predators. You see, the spider not only looks like an ant and spend its time close to the ants, it also moves like an ant.

Myrmarachne formicaria always keep a safe distance from Myrmica rubra workers

Myrmarachne formicaria always keep a safe distance from Myrmica rubra workers

A recent study looked into the locomotion of Myrmarachne formicaria jumping spiders and found that they do not move like their peers. First of all, instead of jumping like most salticid spiders, they move forward in a series of short sprints. But they also move in a pattern that resembles the movement of ants following a pheromone trail, back and forth in a winding wave motion, instead of random strolling and stopping often we see in other spiders. If it looks like an ant and moves like an ant… it might be good enough to fool predators that it is an ant. And I can attest to this – it is extremely difficult to keep track of a Myrmarachne spider moving about in an area with ant activity. Look away, and you will need all the luck in the world to find it again. The spiders also benefit from being close to a colony of highly defensive ants. Myrmica rubra is easily alarmed and has its reputation when it comes to stinging intruders.

Some Myrmarachne formicaria feature a two-colored cephalothorax, to emphasize the part that mimics the ant's head

Some Myrmarachne formicaria feature a two-colored cephalothorax, to emphasize the part that mimics the ant’s head

If they do not hunt the ants, what do these spiders feed on? They seem to go after soft-bodied insects, and they are especially fond of dipterans: small flies, mosquitoes, midges etc’.

Male ant-mimicking jumping spider (Myrmarachne formicaria) feeding on a chironomid midge

Male ant-mimicking jumping spider (Myrmarachne formicaria) feeding on a chironomid midge

A closer look at the feeding Myrmarachne male reveals the weaponized chelicerae, used in fighting other males

A closer look at the feeding Myrmarachne male reveals the weaponized chelicerae, used in fighting other males

At this point you might ask yourself why I included this jumping spider in my Little Transformers series. Sure, it mimics an ant, but that’s it. Or is it? In order to qualify as a Little Transformer the arthropod needs to change something in its appearance to transform into something different. So far we have seen that these spiders move in an atypical fashion to jumping spiders. But there is one more thing they do to conceal their salticid identity. What is the one, fail-safe characteristic of jumping spiders? Those huge front eyes! If only the spider could hide them, it would look like the perfect ant. And they do exactly that.

I look at this spider and I see an ant staring back at me.

I look at this spider and I see an ant staring back at me.

Myrmarachne often wave their forelegs in the air to mimic the ants’ antennae, but the legs also hide their most recognizable feature, the bulging front eyes. Females seem to do a better job at this than males, transforming into ants right before our eyes.

Male ant-mimicking jumping spider (Myrmarachne formicaria). Even on a side-view I still see a weird duck...

Male ant-mimicking jumping spider (Myrmarachne formicaria). Even on a side-view I still see a weird duck…

What is most intriguing here is that the rear pair of eyes evolved to be very large, bearing a striking resemblance in their size and position to ant eyes.

Ant-mimicry is quite common among arthropds, and many species of jumping spiders deploy this strategy as an anti-predator defense or to assist in foraging. While some do not consider Myrmarachne formicaria as a case of perfect mimicry, it is a gorgeous spider with intriguing behavior. Besides, mimicry does not have to be perfect to satisfy our aesthetic desires. It only has to be good enough to benefit the spider’s survival.

Public outreach: Promoting the appreciation of arthropods

Last weekend I had the pleasure of taking part in an outreach event, Guelph Bug Day, at the University of Guelph Arboretum. Bug days are public events, usually free of any admission fees, which promote the appreciation and admiration of insects and arachnids, and set out to educate anyone who is fascinated by arthropods.
This is not the first time I participate in such an event. Last year I presented arachnids at Bug Day Ottawa. In fact, ever since I became interested in insects and their natural history, I have been involved in presenting them to whoever was interested: I brought live insects to lab sessions in high school, I led my mates in outdoor excursions to find spiders and scorpions during my military service, I collaborated with operating museums and insectariums as a consultant on exhibitions, and I incorporated the use of live insects in biology studies at universities to help students gain a better understanding of the courses material. More recently though, I have been more active in events aimed at the general public, in order to bring arthropods into the mainstream and help people overcome their fears. And so far, it has been a blast. Take this recent bug day in Guelph for example: I found myself smiling from ear to ear the whole time, and my table was always busy with no moment to rest, not that I am complaining. This was the first time Guelph holds a bug day event and to be honest, it was the best one I have ever been to. It was that good. But before I talk about the bug day, let me elaborate a little about public outreach and why I think it is important.

When working in science, especially when you acquire some expertise, it becomes difficult to expose the public to your subject of research and communicate about it. The more knowledge you gain about your study system, the harder it gets to explain it to people with little or no science background and get them to care about it. I am happy to say that this is changing thanks to the engagement of researchers and science communicators with the public on social media. Yet there is still a long way to go.

More specifically, nowadays most people go about their daily lives with little or no exposure to the wonders of nature. I once brought velvet worms to a public outreach event at the Toronto Zoo and the response was phenomenal. It was not surprising – the majority of people, biologists included, will live through their lives without even knowing these majestic animals exist, let alone see a live one. So in my opinion this exposure is critical, it can influence the public’s opinion and later have implications for nature conservation. I do think people should familiarize themselves with whatever is found in their area, both plants and animals. After all, insects and spiders are everywhere, and most of them are not out to get anyone. They are harmless and usually mind their own business.

When I present live arthropods, I love interacting with children and let them handle the animals, but I am even more interested in getting the parents into the game. You see, the reality is that the majority of kids already like bugs. They are curious about the diverse world of invertebrates, those common animals that are so different from mammals and birds, and have the appearance of small toys. Unfortunately, at some point children lose their interest in invertebrates, and sometimes even worse, replace it with fear and hate. It is difficult to pinpoint exactly when and why that stage occurs. But it is most likely due to an environmental influence – succumbing to peer-pressure from friends or parents, and witnessing a shift in cultural appreciation as technology takes nature’s place. Parents have a huge role in preserving the view of the natural world in young people’s minds by encouraging them and nurturing their curiosity. Many times I have seen an excited kid holding an insect turn to their parents in hopes for affirmation. However, sometimes the kids are uninterested in insects, in which case I try to work directly with the parents and get them to handle the animals. Some children just need to see their parents doing something a bit unconventional to get confirmation that they are cool!

It just so happens that I stumbled upon this beautiful artwork by Tiana Cabana, a lovely composite image (inspired by another artwork) depicting my burning passion and mission –

Give small critters some room in your heart. Embrace them.
It will make you a better person, and they will appreciate it too.

Going back to Guelph Bug Day, I was astonished by the sheer amount of positivity expressed by the visitors attending. Even those who confessed their fears gave the arachnids a chance after listening to some facts about them and realizing that they do not pose a threat. I find this level of open-mindness incredible, and it is in great part thanks to the amazing organizers and volunteers who put so much of their energy into making this event a reality. Such a talented group of people.

I returned home from the bug day with such a “high”, almost intoxicated, feeling. At first I didn’t know what it was. Sure, the event was fun, but was it that fun? What is this smile smeared all over my face? Why am I so restless, why can’t I just sit down? And it finally dawned on me what it is that I was feeling. It was love. I was in love.
So yeah, I can get pretty emotional at times, but the important take home message for me here is that I can see myself doing this every single day, for the rest of my life. Thank you, Guelph Bug Day. You have a special place in my heart.

One lesson learned from doing these events – I need to bring a camera…