Lacerta Bilineata
No Wasp Was Hurt During The Making Of This Photo (read info text for story)
IMPORTANT: for non-pro users who read the info on a computer, just enlarge your screen to 120% (or more), then the full text will appear below the photo with a white background - which makes reading so much easier.
My best photos (mostly not on Flickr) are here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/western-green-lizard-lacerta-bi...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
At a first glance, the photo above may appear to show the slightly gruesome scene of a flower crab spider (Misumena vatia) munchin' on a hairy scoliid wasp (Scolia hirta), but that's in fact not what is happening here.
To provide some context: I'd discovered this beautiful female M. vatia a few days prior to taking the photo. I love photographing spiders, and particularly when I find one of the crab variety - of which there are at least 4 different species present in my garden - I make sure to visit it regularly, always in the hope of catching it with prey (somewhat morbid of me, I know, but the way these arachnids hunt is just endlessly fascinating and makes for great photos).
They are pretty territorial; once a spider has settled on a flower where the harvest is plentiful - which is to say the plant gets visited often by insects and thus provides a steady stream of fresh victims - it will try to ride that "gravy train" for as long as possible and remain lurking inside (or just underneath) that flower, which will allow you to locate it again.
The individual in the photo had chosen my peppermint plants as her hunting grounds, which made sense, because even though she wasn't exactly well camouflaged in them (as you can see here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/western-green-lizard-lacerta-bi... ), the flowers of this exquisitely fragrant herb attracted more insects than any other plant blooming at the same time in my garden.
But something was off in the land of mint: whenever I visited Mrs. Crab Spider over the course of several days, I never found her with prey. At first I thought she had chosen her hunting grounds poorly after all, because she was so easily visible the insects were probably thinking: "Nice try, but I know my peppermint flowers, and you sure don't look like one!"
Yet when I stuck around for a bit and closely observed her for a few minutes, this hypothesis quickly came undone, because there was certainly no shortage of potential victims landing right in front of the spider: one apparently suicidal honeybee even literally shoved its bum into the spider's face, and she didn't move a muscle! And the same was true for the hairy scoliid wasps, as you can see in the photo above.
This was very confusing behavior, because even if the spider hadn't been hungry when I first found her (maybe after just devouring a calorie-rich bumblebee), her appetite should have come back by now, and I witnessed no sign of it. It made no sense: was this perhaps a vegetarian spider? Had I come across the next step in arachnid evolution and found the first individual sticking to an exclusive diet of tofu and quinoa?
What I saw puzzled me, and I needed answers. If this crab spider was neither eating bees nor wasps (nor waiting for a flying soy bean to miraculously land on the peppermint flower) - what was going on here? Was this maybe a deeply spiritual spider on the path to enlightenment adhering to the ancient principle of nonviolence which applies to actions towards all living beings?
Indeed, when I leaned in closer to better observe her, I thought I caught a whiff of incense sticks (granted, it might have only been the fragrance of the peppermint, but I started to like the idea of a "hippy spider" in my garden π ). The longer I thought about it, the more it made sense: the spider's motionless pose wasn't that of a lurking predator ready to strike as I foolishly had been assuming - this spider was in fact MEDITATING (or at the very least doing Yoga).
The next day I wanted to visit my enlightened friend again, but to my chagrin I couldn't find her in the peppermint plants. After a careful search of the area I was relieved when I finally spotted her; she had climbed up into the phlox and now resided approximately fifty centimeters above her previous location, in the midst of the bright pink blooming flowers (I wouldn't have been surprised to find her reading a tiny version of Herman Hesse's 'Siddhartha', holding it tight with all eight legs, but she was just doing her previous meditation/Yoga pose π )
For what happened next, however, I was NOT prepared: as I was watching, a green bottle fly (Lucilia sericata) landed right in front of my hippy spider - who caught the poor bugger faster than you can say "tofu" and immediately started sucking the life out of him.
"And there goes the ancient principle of nonviolence right out the window...", I thought to myself as I went to get the camera. Either I had been wrong in my previous assessment, or Mrs. Crab Spider wasn't a strict ideologue (or just a good ole' hypocrite like the rest of us π ); in any case, she obviously enjoyed her meal very much, even spinning the fly around like a corn cob (here's a photo, in case you're interested: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/western-green-lizard-lacerta-bi... )
What I eventually did realize though, and I'm not joking for once, was that I had indeed observed a very interesting behavior: this flower crab spider had specialized on a particular prey. Over the course of two weeks, I only ever saw her catch flies (who were omnipresent on the phlox, but rarely visited the peppermint), while she ignored any insect with a sting, regardless how close and easy to grab it might have been.
To my knowledge, this was very unusual. Misumena vatia is a notorious bee killer, and I myself had witnessed many a careless honey bee fall victim to this highly skilled predator in my garden over the years (here's just one example: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-... ).
Although I have zero proof for this, I suspect my choosy spider simply wanted to avoid the risk of getting stung; perhaps because she'd learned from past experience that the pointy end of bees and wasps can be quite painful - or maybe this was innate behavior that occurs in some individuals but not in others.
In any case, I was half relieved and half disappointed by this outcome; on the one hand it was good to know this beautiful arachnid wouldn't starve to death in my garden for a lack of tofu - but on the other I had really liked the idea of a spider on the path to enlightenment and was now a bit saddened that there would probably never be a commune of tiny, eight-legged hippies in my garden. π
As always, many thanks for reading and commenting: have a great remaining week everyone! And on a very personal note, let me again express my gratitude for all the best wishes I got from you after my hand surgery (which thankfully went well: as you can see, I'm already able to bore you with my usual overlong photo descriptions again ;-) - thank you guys, so, so much!! β€ππ
No Wasp Was Hurt During The Making Of This Photo (read info text for story)
IMPORTANT: for non-pro users who read the info on a computer, just enlarge your screen to 120% (or more), then the full text will appear below the photo with a white background - which makes reading so much easier.
My best photos (mostly not on Flickr) are here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/western-green-lizard-lacerta-bi...
THE STORY BEHIND THE PHOTO:
At a first glance, the photo above may appear to show the slightly gruesome scene of a flower crab spider (Misumena vatia) munchin' on a hairy scoliid wasp (Scolia hirta), but that's in fact not what is happening here.
To provide some context: I'd discovered this beautiful female M. vatia a few days prior to taking the photo. I love photographing spiders, and particularly when I find one of the crab variety - of which there are at least 4 different species present in my garden - I make sure to visit it regularly, always in the hope of catching it with prey (somewhat morbid of me, I know, but the way these arachnids hunt is just endlessly fascinating and makes for great photos).
They are pretty territorial; once a spider has settled on a flower where the harvest is plentiful - which is to say the plant gets visited often by insects and thus provides a steady stream of fresh victims - it will try to ride that "gravy train" for as long as possible and remain lurking inside (or just underneath) that flower, which will allow you to locate it again.
The individual in the photo had chosen my peppermint plants as her hunting grounds, which made sense, because even though she wasn't exactly well camouflaged in them (as you can see here: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/western-green-lizard-lacerta-bi... ), the flowers of this exquisitely fragrant herb attracted more insects than any other plant blooming at the same time in my garden.
But something was off in the land of mint: whenever I visited Mrs. Crab Spider over the course of several days, I never found her with prey. At first I thought she had chosen her hunting grounds poorly after all, because she was so easily visible the insects were probably thinking: "Nice try, but I know my peppermint flowers, and you sure don't look like one!"
Yet when I stuck around for a bit and closely observed her for a few minutes, this hypothesis quickly came undone, because there was certainly no shortage of potential victims landing right in front of the spider: one apparently suicidal honeybee even literally shoved its bum into the spider's face, and she didn't move a muscle! And the same was true for the hairy scoliid wasps, as you can see in the photo above.
This was very confusing behavior, because even if the spider hadn't been hungry when I first found her (maybe after just devouring a calorie-rich bumblebee), her appetite should have come back by now, and I witnessed no sign of it. It made no sense: was this perhaps a vegetarian spider? Had I come across the next step in arachnid evolution and found the first individual sticking to an exclusive diet of tofu and quinoa?
What I saw puzzled me, and I needed answers. If this crab spider was neither eating bees nor wasps (nor waiting for a flying soy bean to miraculously land on the peppermint flower) - what was going on here? Was this maybe a deeply spiritual spider on the path to enlightenment adhering to the ancient principle of nonviolence which applies to actions towards all living beings?
Indeed, when I leaned in closer to better observe her, I thought I caught a whiff of incense sticks (granted, it might have only been the fragrance of the peppermint, but I started to like the idea of a "hippy spider" in my garden π ). The longer I thought about it, the more it made sense: the spider's motionless pose wasn't that of a lurking predator ready to strike as I foolishly had been assuming - this spider was in fact MEDITATING (or at the very least doing Yoga).
The next day I wanted to visit my enlightened friend again, but to my chagrin I couldn't find her in the peppermint plants. After a careful search of the area I was relieved when I finally spotted her; she had climbed up into the phlox and now resided approximately fifty centimeters above her previous location, in the midst of the bright pink blooming flowers (I wouldn't have been surprised to find her reading a tiny version of Herman Hesse's 'Siddhartha', holding it tight with all eight legs, but she was just doing her previous meditation/Yoga pose π )
For what happened next, however, I was NOT prepared: as I was watching, a green bottle fly (Lucilia sericata) landed right in front of my hippy spider - who caught the poor bugger faster than you can say "tofu" and immediately started sucking the life out of him.
"And there goes the ancient principle of nonviolence right out the window...", I thought to myself as I went to get the camera. Either I had been wrong in my previous assessment, or Mrs. Crab Spider wasn't a strict ideologue (or just a good ole' hypocrite like the rest of us π ); in any case, she obviously enjoyed her meal very much, even spinning the fly around like a corn cob (here's a photo, in case you're interested: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/western-green-lizard-lacerta-bi... )
What I eventually did realize though, and I'm not joking for once, was that I had indeed observed a very interesting behavior: this flower crab spider had specialized on a particular prey. Over the course of two weeks, I only ever saw her catch flies (who were omnipresent on the phlox, but rarely visited the peppermint), while she ignored any insect with a sting, regardless how close and easy to grab it might have been.
To my knowledge, this was very unusual. Misumena vatia is a notorious bee killer, and I myself had witnessed many a careless honey bee fall victim to this highly skilled predator in my garden over the years (here's just one example: www.lacerta-bilineata.com/ticino-best-photos-of-southern-... ).
Although I have zero proof for this, I suspect my choosy spider simply wanted to avoid the risk of getting stung; perhaps because she'd learned from past experience that the pointy end of bees and wasps can be quite painful - or maybe this was innate behavior that occurs in some individuals but not in others.
In any case, I was half relieved and half disappointed by this outcome; on the one hand it was good to know this beautiful arachnid wouldn't starve to death in my garden for a lack of tofu - but on the other I had really liked the idea of a spider on the path to enlightenment and was now a bit saddened that there would probably never be a commune of tiny, eight-legged hippies in my garden. π
As always, many thanks for reading and commenting: have a great remaining week everyone! And on a very personal note, let me again express my gratitude for all the best wishes I got from you after my hand surgery (which thankfully went well: as you can see, I'm already able to bore you with my usual overlong photo descriptions again ;-) - thank you guys, so, so much!! β€ππ