© 2007 Beatriz Moisset |
The distinguishing feature of all beetles is their hard
external shell or coat. They don't seem to have wings. At least none are
visible. The delicate, film-like wings of wasps and flies seem absent. But most
beetles do have wings and fly quite well. The front wings of most insects have
been modified in beetles into a hard case, called elytra, that covers and
protects the second pair of wings. Their membranous hind wings remain out of
sight, folded like origami. When they are ready to take off, the hinged hard
elytra moves out of the way and the unfolded large hind wings are ready to go.
The exception to this rule is a peculiar insect without a
common name and with just as peculiar a scientific name, Ripiphorus. In the case of this unusual insect the elytra are
reduced to two little nubbins incapable of covering anything. The hind wings
are longer than the beetles body, thin and translucent like those of wasps or
flies. For lack of cover there is no point in folding them, so they are in
plain sight all the time. I wouldn’t expect you to realize that it as a beetle
if you are not an entomologist. I remembered being perplexed, myself the first
time I saw one of these. You would probably ask: "Is that a wasp, or could
it be some kind of fly?"
Male Ripiphorus beetle © 2011 Ilona Loser |
Some Ripiphorus are
entirely black, others deep red. The males can be distinguished from the females
by their flamboyant, feather-like antennae. Now, let us get back to its name
and what it means. It should be spelled Rhipiphorus.
Too bad the original author made a mistake and the rules of nomenclature
prevent us from changing the original name. In Greek, it means a fan carrier,
in reference to the male's impressive antennae. So, let this be its common
name.
Female laying eggs. © 2007 Beatriz Moisset |
You are more likely to see the females because they live a
little longer than the males. They diligently visit flowers, not just any
flowers, but only the fresher ones, the ones that are just beginning to open.
They have a clever reason for doing this. They lay their eggs inside the
blossoms and leave them to fend for themselves.
The newborn is not a defenseless shapeless grub like most
beetle larvae. Instead it is mobile, with sharp claws, and can recognize a bee
when it sees one. When a pollinator arrives at the flower, a few days later,
the larva jumps into action and climbs into it. When the bee arrives at the
nest with her load pollen and nectar, the little hitchhiker dismounts, ready to
perpetrate its deed. Soon, it proceeds to feed on the bee's growing larvae and
it may also consume some of the supplies. This is how a Rhipiphorus beetle makes a living, at the expense of an innocent
pollinator's babies. Thus, it is considered a parasitoid, a word derived from
parasite, but with a slightly different meaning. A parasite, ordinarily,
doesn't kill its victim or host. The parasitoid behaves like a parasite at
first but ultimately kills its host.
I feel sorry for the poor pollinator, but realize that this
is the way of nature. I accept the behavior of this fascinating beetle and
marvel at its strange looks and singular life style.
© 2007 Beatriz Moisset |
Beginners Guide to Pollinators and Other Flower Visitors
© Beatriz Moisset. 2014