|
Several day ago, I was hiking in the forest near our property and I came upon this old fallen branch covered in what looked like ants... but many of them had wings and were flying away as more continued emerging from inside the dead branch. What's up with that? Well, with some types of ants (as well as termites), the queen produces winged offspring at certain times of the year, and the winged individuals emerge and take off all at once, often thousands at a time. The question is, are these ants or termites? Let's start with a bit of background information. Both ants and termites have what is called their annual nuptial flight. Basically, this is when some of the ants (or termites) take off flying to find a mate. Ants and termites live in colonies, with a queen and a large army of non-reproductive female workers. During most of the season, the non-flying, non-reproductive female workers forage for food to feed themselves and the numerous larvae produced by the queen. This part of the year is for growing the colony. However, at certain times of the season, the queen changes her job. She stops laying eggs that hatch more non-reproductive female workers, and she starts laying eggs that hatch females that could become queens, as well as males that could mate with these females. These potential queens, and the males that could mate with them, have wings. They all emerge from the colony at once and take to the air, swarming about and mating (yes, they mate while swarming in the air... the little multitaskers). Once a winged female mates with a winged male, the male loses its wings and dies (bummer), and the female goes off to become the queen of her own new colony (yay for the queen!). As it turns out, the insects in the photo are ants. How do you tell if they are ants or termites? The easiest way is the body shape and the wing length. Zooming in on the photo, I could see a distinct constriction behind the head (a narrow neck). And with some of the winged individuals, you can see how the second pair of wings are shorter.  
0 Comments
Trish and I saw several other mammals in Panama besides the monkeys and sloths I’ve already posted. As you can probably imagine, mammals are often MUCH harder to spot than birds, which means photographing them can be a challenge. Names and descriptions are provided above each photo. Kinkajou. These tropical tree-climbing mammals are related to raccoons and coatis. Found in southern Mexico, Central America, and South America, they are difficult to see because they are nocturnal. I took this photo as this kinkajou was feeding on a banana outside a window of the Canopy Tower.  Northern Tamandua. This is actually a tree-climbing anteater. This anteater specializes in raiding ant, termite, and bee nests high in the trees. Like other anteaters, it has no teeth, but it has strong claws for tearing into insect nests, and a long, sticky tongue for slurping up its prey. This is the only one we saw, and photographing it was a challenge, as it was high in a tree and very busy looking for food.   Coati. Also known as the coatimundi. Related to the raccoon and kinkajou—one of the other mammals included in this post. Whereas kinkajous are usually seen climbing trees (they have a prehensile tail), coatis are usually on the ground (with a more raccoon-like tail), although they are also good climbers. Coatis often forage in groups, and they hold their long tails up high, which helps the others in the group stay together in thick vegetation. This one was on the move, refusing to pose for good photos.   Central American Agouti. Fairly common in Panama, agoutis are rodents that can grow to almost ten pounds. They are often seen in gardens, as well as in the rainforest. Agoutis are active during the day, and they form monogamous mating pairs, sometimes for life. They have a rather odd courtship ritual. When the male is in the mood, he sprays the female with urine. If his timing is right, this will send the female into an excited dance. This, in turn, prompts the male to give her a few more nice urine squirts. You can guess what happens next.   Proboscis Bats. These tiny bats were hanging around on the lower side of the trunk of a leaning tree. They usually live in colonies with as many as 45 individuals, roosting together like this during the day and hunting for insects at night. Most colonies have between 5 and 11 bats. These bats usually feed while flying just above a body of water (without actually touching the water), and this particular tree was actually leaning out over a portion of the large lake that is part of the Panama Canal (we were in a boat when we found them).   Photo credits: All mammal photos - Stan C. Smith Everyone loves sloths, right? We were lucky enough to see and photograph a number of them. Mostly the BROWN-THROATED THREE-TOED SLOTH. I have to tell you a story about the sloth in the first photo. As we were just starting a hike, we saw this sloth high in a cecropia tree, hanging upside down and slowly scratching itself. I got some good photos, and we continued onward. When we came back down the same trail about two hours later, the sloth was still hanging there, and was STILL scratching itself. A good scratch cannot be rushed, I suppose. Why are sloths so slow? This question has puzzled biologists for centuries. Way back in 1749, when sloths were first described in scientific literature (by Georges Buffon), he referred to them as: "the lowest form of existence." This is obviously incorrect because sloths have thrived for 64 million years. They are very well adapted for their lifestyle. First, sloths are completely colorblind, due to a genetic condition that showed up in their ancestors millions of years ago. They see poorly in dim light, and hardly at all in bright daylight. Very few tree-climbing animals are colorblind, and this condition requires that they move slowly and cautiously. But that's not all. Sloths have extremely slow metabolism. In fact, their metabolism is so slow that they are unable to regulate their body temperature internally, like other mammals can. They regulate their temperature behaviorally, like a cold-blooded animal does, by basking in the sun when they are cool and moving to the shade when hot. Unlike other mammals, a sloth's internal body temperature can fluctuate as much as 20 degrees F during the day (this would be fatal to a human). These factors, among others, result in an extremely slow-moving animal. But this isn't a bad thing—it's simply a different way of surviving. Sloths are very good at what they do! The last photo is a HOFFMANN'S TWO-TOED SLOTH, which we saw in a sloth sanctuary. We only saw one of these in the wild, and it was not in position for good photos.      Photo Credits: All sloth photos - Stan C. Smith Now that I've shared the monkeys we saw, let's consider one of my favorite birds, the TOUCAN. Actually, we saw three types of toucans. The first photo is a KEEL-BILLED TOUCAN, the second is a BLUE-THROATED TOUCANET, and the third is a COLLARED ARACARI. In my opinion, toucans are the cartoon characters of the bird world. My question is: What's up with that huge, beautiful bill (beak)? Their bill can be four times the size of their head, and as long as their body. Seriously, isn't that kind of extreme? Well, as you can probably imagine, a toucan's bill is, by necessity, amazingly lightweight. They are also very strong—have you ever seen a toucan with a broken beak? Neither have I. As it turns out, these beaks serve a variety of functions. They help the bird reach fruits at the ends of narrow branches and in crevices. They can be used as a weapon against predators and against each other. The serrated edges can be used like a saw for tearing up food. They can be used for cracking open seeds. The bright colors are almost certainly used for attracting mates, and for identifying members of their own species. Perhaps one of the most intriguing functions of a toucan's bill is thermoregulation. Tropical forests are hot, and creatures living there have evolved elaborate ways to keep their bodies cool. I've never touched a live toucan's bill, but biologists say the bills are very warm to the touch. Why? Because the bills have an elaborate system of blood vessels near the surface. Scientists have actually tested this using infrared sensors. They looked at the amount of heat given off by the toucan's beak when it is resting. Then they chased the toucan around in its cage for ten minutes (to stimulate exertion), and measured the heat given off by the beak again. After the exertion, the beak was much warmer. Which means the bird was releasing more heat to keep its body at the optimal temperature. Who says something can't be pretty and functional at the same time?    Photo credits: Toucans - Stan C. Smith Trish and I saw four monkey species on Panama trip. In my last post, I showed photos of Geoffroy's Tamarin. And here are the other three. The first two photos are MANTLED HOWLER MONKEYS. These are not the same species we usually see in Belize. These monkeys can be heard at least a half mile away, and they often howl in the early mornings and evenings. The next one is the WHITE-FACED CAPUCHIN. This one seemed to have a perpetually grouchy face. Finally, the last photo is a WESTERN NIGHT MONKEY. These are nocturnal, which makes them difficult to photograph. I took this photo while our guide shone a spotlight on it.     Photo credits: Monkeys - Stan C. Smith Trish and I recently returned from an awesome tropical forest adventure in Panama. We stayed at Canopy Tower and Canopy Lodge, with a focus on Tropical Biodiversity. I'll be sharing numerous photos and stories in the coming days. Let's start with monkeys! We saw four monkey species, including Panama's smallest monkey, called Geoffroy's Tamarin, about the size of a squirrel. These tiny monkeys live in social groups, so if you see one, you'll likely see more. They spend much of the day foraging for fruits, flowers, and insects. I photographed these tamarins from the observation deck atop the Canopy Tower. Tamarins were sporting the mohawk hairstyle long before it was cool.    Photo credits: Tamarin photos - Stan C. Smith I haven’t ridden very many horses, and I’ve never owned a horse. But… if I could ride a domesticated zebra, I might consider becoming a cowboy. In fact, in the second book of my Peregrine Outpost series, a leader of the bad guys rides a zebra, which gives him a certain lofty status among his tribe members. Seriously, how cool would it be to ride a zebra? The only place I wouldn’t ride my zebra would be on the plains of the Serengeti. Because riding one there would be like offering the lions a double-layer snack. So, why haven’t people domesticated zebras? Humans originated in the land of zebras—it’s not like our ancestors didn’t have plenty of time to make this goal a priority. Zebra-riding seems like a no-brainer, so why didn’t they do it? As it turns out, plenty of people have tried. In fact, the 2005 movie Racing Stripes, one of those talking-animal movies, is about a zebra that wants to be a racehorse. But even in this movie, the producers had to use a horse (in zebra makeup) for the actual riding and racing scenes. Why? Horses, donkeys, and zebras all came from a common ancestor that lived millions of years ago in North America and Europe. As you probably know, the ones in North America went extinct about 10,000 years ago (there aren’t really any wild horses in North America today, just feral horses that escaped from herds of domestic horses brought over from Europe). Donkeys and zebras are more closely related to each other than to horses. Horses were domesticated in western Eurasia, and they were first kept as food animals, then eventually people figured out they could ride them. Thusly, they became an important element of the development of human civilization. Horses, donkeys, and zebras were all preyed upon by large predators, but zebras lived amidst a wide variety of the world’s most impressive predators. To survive, they evolved to be particularly alert, to flee at any sign of danger, and—perhaps most importantly—to fight desperately when captured. I’ve seen videos in which zebras kick pursuing lions, breaking the lions’ jaws (a lion with a broken jaw will soon starve). Also, zebras bite viciously when they feel threatened. In 2013, a zebra at the National Zoo in Washington DC attacked and repeatedly bit a zoo keeper, sending the keeper to the hospital for surgery. Zebras also have a strong “ducking reflex” to escape attack, making it difficult to lasso them. Basically, zebras are just not people friendly. In order for an animal species to be a good candidate for domestication, the animal should be naturally fond of humans, and it helps if the animal has a desire for a comfortable life and is easy to work with and tend. Horses, yes. Zebras, nope. Okay, remember above when I said I would not ride my theoretical zebra across the Serengeti? I wasn’t kidding. It’s likely that thousands of generations of early humans avoided even trying to domesticate zebras, knowing that zebras were basically lion fodder. This, and the zebra’s belligerent behavior, explain why zebras have never been domesticated, and why I’ll never be a zebra-riding cowboy.  On Tuesday night, at the designated time (9:35 PM), Trish talked me into going outside to observe the supermoon. I sighed, thinking about how comfortable I already was, but I grabbed my camera and out we went. Glad I did. A bonus was seeing a partial lunar eclipse at the same time. I got some nice photos. What the heck is a supermoon, anyway? It's another word for harvest moon, which is a full moon when the moon is closer to Earth than usual. Technically, an astronomer would tell you this is when the moon is within 90% of perigee (which is the moon's closest approach to Earth in its orbit). Typically, the distance between Earth and the moon averages about 239,000 miles. On Tuesday night, it was at about 222,000 miles. The traditional name harvest moon refers to the fact that it usually happens in the early fall, when many crops are almost ready for harvesting. Okay, so what is a lunar eclipse? This is when the moon enters Earth's shadow. If you think about it, a lunar eclipse can only happen when the moon is full. Why? Because the moon is full only when Earth is directly between the sun and the moon. In other words, when you look up at the moon, the sun has to be directly behind your line of sight in order to fully illuminate the moon as you look at it. If the sun is not directly behind your line of sight, you see only a portion (a sliver) of the moon. And on Tuesday, we were treated to a harvest moon AND a partial lunar eclipse at the same time. This is why it looks like there is a bite out of the top of the moon in my photo. That's Earth's shadow.  Yeah, I know 3D printers aren’t from the future, but some kinds of technology make me wonder sometimes. Recently, when visiting our daughter Katie, her husband Michael showed me how his 3D printer works. It was the first time I had actually seen one operate. 3D printers have been around for a while, and I suppose they aren’t as astounding as some of the new AI technologies, or even newer cell phones for that matter. But still… they print anything you can imagine as a three-dimensional object. That’s Star Trek territory, maybe even The Jetsons! How do they actually work? Well, first you have to have on your computer a digital 3D model of an object. A 3D model includes all the spatial information, such as height, width, and the precise measurements of every portion of the object. Every contour, every surface, every projection, everything. 3D models are actually quite common, as almost all products are modeled in 3D before companies produce them. Also, most animated movies and shows are now just 3D characters, 3D objects, and 3D backgrounds. A 3D model can be made from several photos (or drawings) of something, as long as the photos show all the sides of the object. Next, you use software to convert your 3D model into an STL (stereolithography) file. This maps the object’s entire surface as a series of triangles. The STL file is then used by software that creates really thin slices of the model, from the bottom of the object to the top. The 3D printer then lays down a thin layer of material for each of the slices, building the object from the bottom up. Basically, it’s kind of like an inkjet printer, but instead of laying down one thin one-dimensional line of ink at a time to create a 2D image, it lays down a heated layer of resin one 2D slice at a time, piling the slices on top of each other. The resin is heated just before being squirted on top of the previous slice, and it quickly cools, then the printer scans the layer with UV light, which cures it. I recently watched a video about huge 3D printers that print houses by laying down one thin layer of concrete at a time. Some of the most impressive 3D printers actually use metal instead of resin, using an electron beam to melt metal powder into each layer. These machines can quickly make things like replacement metal machine parts, surgical implants, and anything else you can think of. Imagine this futuristic scenario: a large ship is out at sea (or, better yet, out in space) for a long time. It is not feasible to store every possible spare replacement part aboard the ship. The parts would take up too much space. But the 3D files for every imaginable part could be available on a ship computer, along with a 3D printer to print any replacement part that is needed (especially if the faulty part can be used for raw material to make the new part) . Like I said... this is Star Trek territory.  This is the time of the year when giant horseflies are everywhere, looking for a blood meal. Seriously, these puppies are over an inch long, quite large for a fly. The males are nice, docile eaters of pollen and nectar from flowers, but the females are demons from the apocalypse. You think I'm exaggerating? Then you haven't been chomped by an inch-long female horsefly. It hurts, and here's why: Mosquitoes drill a nice clean hole in your skin, then drink your blood through a straw—not very painful. Horseflies (and the smaller deer flies, for that matter) have mouthparts that act like a pair of serrated knives. They slide these back and forth, making a gash in your skin so they can slurp up the blood that comes out. They have anticoagulants in their saliva, which keeps the blood flowing. On humans, though, the knife-sawing business is so painful that we usually curse, then swat at the fly while doing an awkward horsefly dance. Therefore, the fly doesn't have a chance to get much of a blood meal, so it continues buzzing around, hoping for another opportunity for a knife attack. Now here's the real reason why I'm talking about horseflies today. Trish and I have noticed, as we drive our vehicles down the one-mile gravel road from our house to the nearest paved road, numerous horseflies attack our cars, chasing us and slamming into our windows and hoods, even when we are going twenty miles per hour. We got to wondering, why do horseflies do this, especially once they try to bite the car and presumably realize it will not provide any blood? As it turns out, horseflies are irresistibly drawn to large, dark, moving objects (an evolutionary advantage for a critter that feeds on mammals). But it's more than that. Horseflies are attracted to polarized light when searching for animals to bite and for water (where they lay their eggs). Sunlight reflected off a car, particularly a dark-colored car, is polarized. When the car is moving, these factors together drive the horseflies crazy, and they will follow a car for miles as if possessed. Horseflies are awesome, but they're also vicious.  |
Stan's Cogitations
Everyone needs a creative outlet. That's why I write. Archives
May 2025
|
RSS Feed