Issue 14 - May 20, 2010 Canyon Lake Butterflies

Canyon Lake Butterflies

Many, many years ago there was a nomadic band of hunter-gatherers that were foraging through what we now call the Hill Country of Texas.  In fact, they were camped on the north side of a river just above a set of rapids that marked the beginning of a steep canyon to the east.  It was late spring and it was a time of abundance. 

The younger women were wading in the shallows gathering fresh water clams and placing them in the baskets they had woven from reeds the previous evening.  The recent rains made it easy for the older women to dig the roots that they were collecting.  The older boys were spearing eels and fish in the river but mostly they were trying to attract the attention of the girls. The leader of the group, Trupp, left the half dozen men who were making arrowheads and wandered off by himself.  There was not much leisure time in his life but when he could, he took a little time to be off by himself.

Trupp slowly walked fifty feet up the slope to the edge of a small meadow overlooking the river and sat down on a rock outcropping, where he could keep an eye on things.  He noticed that there were imprints of clam shells in the rock and a smooth hole about 8” in diameter had been worn all the way through the rock.  He reasoned that the hole had been created by the action of swirling water and harder, small stones during a flood.  He had seen similar things in the river beds, but, he mused, “That must have been quite a flood to reach this high.”  Some giggling caught his attention and his eyes caught the movement of four little kids scrambling up the hill in his direction.  “Well”, he thought, “so much for peace and quiet this afternoon.”

“Tell us a story Trupp! Please!  Please!  Just one more!”  Trupp gave a little smile, waved the children up and told the kids to gather around him.  He liked to tell the children stories and, after all, he felt it helped pull the clan together.  At times like this, he let his imagination fly…….

“OK kids, listen up.  One day long ago, the Great Spirit decided to make a special present for His human children. He took up his basket and started gathering things:  he picked some green grass after an early spring rain, a yellow ray from the warm summer sun, shimmering blue light from the sky above, orange and purple flowers from the fields just like the ones around us now, and red and gold leaves from the trees in the Harvest Moon.  Then He added the whiteness from cornmeal, the children’s shadows as they were playing, and the black from a beautiful maiden’s hair.  Once he gathered all these beautiful colors, he used them to create butterflies. 

His children were very pleased, and the Creator smiled as He looked out over the fields and watched the human children dance with the beautiful butterflies in the warm summer sun.  Afterwards, he gathered His human children around him; just like you are sitting around me right now. 

The Great Spirit told them that the silence of the butterflies was going to be the most precious gift of all to His children.  Since a butterfly can make no sound, the butterfly can not reveal any secrets to anyone but the Great Spirit, who hears and sees all.

He told His children that if they want a special wish to come true, they must capture a butterfly and whisper their heart’s desire to it.  They must then release the butterfly unharmed.  Since butterflies make no sound, they cannot tell the wish to anyone but Him and they will fly to the heavens.  Since they are so colorful, the butterflies will easily be seen by the Great Spirit and He will be so pleased that the butterfly was given its freedom that the whispered prayers will be quickly granted.”

It was the oldest child who raised his voice and said “Trupp, is that true?  Can butterflies really talk with the Great Spirit?”

“Well,” said Trupp, “I don’t know for sure but why don’t you try it?  Take the younger children with you and see if you can catch a butterfly, whisper it your wish, and let it go unharmed.” 

The day passed; followed by many, many others.

Yesterday afternoon, my grandkids were playing down at the edge of Canyon Lake here in Mystic Shores.  I figured I would check on them so I went out my kitchen door, across the back porch and down my back steps to the edge of a small meadow.  I walked the hundred yards to the water’s edge and sat down on a rock outcropping, where I could keep an eye on things.  I turned off my iPhone and frowned just a little at the jet skis jumping wakes out in the middle of the lake.  I grinned, however, at the young couple in the nearby inlet who were bass fishing near the submerged trees.  Their boat probably cost more than my first home.

 I noticed that there were imprints of clam shells in the rock where I was sitting and a smooth hole about 8” in diameter had been worn all the way through the rock.  I guess that the hole had been created by the action of swirling water and harder, small stones during a flood.  I have seen similar things in the river beds, and I thought “That must have been quite a flood to reach this high.”   Some giggling caught my attention and my eyes caught the movement of my four grandchildren scrambling along the shoreline in my direction.  “Well”, I thought, “so much for peace and quiet this afternoon.”

“Tell us a story Grandpa Clay! Please!  Please!  Just one more!”   I couldn’t help but grin, waved the children over and told the kids to gather around.  I like to tell the children stories and, after all, it helps pull the family together. 

“All right kids, who would like to hear a story about butterflies?”

Clay

(Author’s note:   There are many ways of understanding nature and stories/tradition may be just as important as scientific names.  Besides, to quote a friend, a little whimsy isn’t bad.)

Issue 13 - May 12, 2010 Ironclad Beetle

Issue 13 – May 12, 2010 Ironclad Beetle


The sun won’t be up for a little while, so it is kind of early to be thinking about anything but the coffee perking. That leaves me two options: (1) sodoku, or (2) picking a subject for this month’s “Our Creatures…….”. It is too early to think clearly so I will leave this decision to Mother Nature.

I’m going to wait until there is a little light and walk out on my back porch, which is open to a field and Canyon Lake beyond. The first critter I see is going to get the business, meaning I’ll research and write it up. If I don’t see any animal, I’m going back to my sodoku puzzles. (I suspect that I will see some kind of bird, since they are so active at dawn.) Here goes…….

Well, that didn’t turn out as expected. I didn’t get a full step out of my kitchen door when I noticed what looked like bird droppings beside my “Welcome to the Lake” mat. I thought that strange, because there isn’t any place for a bird to perch nearby and I gave it a closer look. Lo and behold, it had six legs. Bird poop with six legs! Will wonders never cease?

There are more than 800,000 different species of insects in the world, which is as much as all other animals and plants combined. Interestingly, almost half of those insect species are different kinds of beetles. Amongst this wondrous diversity of beetles, I just found one that my readers can relate to here at Canyon Lake.

Allow me to introduce the “Ironclad Beetle” to all you fans who prefer Coleoptera to Cleopatra.

(Kingdom; Animalia, Phylum; Arthropoda, Class; Insecta, Order; Coleoptera, Family; Zopheridae, Genus: Zopherus, Species: Z. haldemani Horn)

This little trickster has a number of unique characteristics that make him a standout in the world of beetles, but first let’s talk about his distribution.

One source says that this species of the Ironclad Beetle is found in areas of “south-central Texas” and has been positively identified at Canyon Lake, Texas; Ames, Texas; and Georgetown, Texas. I don’t know where Ames is and Georgetown, of course, doesn’t count so I claim that this is our very own beetle here at Canyon Lake. We must not be selfish, however, so let’s share some information with our jealous neighbors who unfortunately don’t have their own bug.

The Ironclad Beetle is a slow moving insect, and it may be the slowest insect for its size that you will ever encounter. I placed this one in the center of a sheet of paper on my desk and it took the beetle five minutes to untuck its legs and begin to move. It then took eight minutes to reach the edge of the paper, a distance of about five inches. It apparently does not need speed to escape predation. I’m speculating here but I think that this slow motion routine may be an effective defense against some predators. Lizards, for example, often notice their prey because of abrupt movement. Anyway, the Ironclad Beetle has other tricks up his six sleeves.

If disturbed on a tree trunk, it will tuck in its legs and fall to the ground, where it is virtually undetectable due to its camouflage.

Its striking black and creamy white spotted coloration is also the perfect camouflage when sitting on the bark of our Live Oak trees. If, however, some sharp eyed predator does happen to notice it, it looks for all the world like an unappetizing piece of bird poop.

The beetle’s common name of “Ironclad” is appropriate and they are indeed tough. The exoskeleton (integument) is extremely hard and thick and reminds one of a walnut shell. I imagine that many a strong lad has lost a bet that he could crush the beetle between thumb and forefinger.

Ironclad Beetles are also unique in that they don’t fly. Most beetles have a pair of leathery protective wings called elytra that cover their membranous flight wings. During flight, the elytra are spread apart and the two flight wings are unfolded and extended (think of a June bug or a Ladybug). Our Ironclad Beetles are missing the primary flight wings and the elytra are thick, hard and fused together.

These beetles have not been studied real thoroughly so little is known about their biology or habits. They do go through the egg-larvae-pupal-adult routine and it is thought that the adults feed nocturnally on lichens growing on the bark of Oak and Pecan trees. Around here, the adults can be found in the summer on the outer walls of homes in wooded areas. They are long lived and have been known to survive for seven years in captivity.

Our Ironclad Beetle has no medical or economic importance that I can find. However, while most non-economically important insects do not carry a common name, the Entomological Society of America has honored this beetle by officially approving “Southwestern Ironclad Beetle”. It is also the symbol of the Southwestern Entomological Society, a regional society of insect scientists.

I think it is nice that they choose “Our” very own beetle as their symbol.






Clay