
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Geometric Bug

Saturday, June 18, 2011
'The effects of insect exclusion on pitcher plant microbial communities'
Driving down various unmarked dirt roads for almost 2 hours, memory fails as I search for the hidden Tom’s Swamp. Finally, google earth and a country club landmark help, and the bog is found. Drizzle falls but thankfully no rain. My assistant and I lug heavy planks and equipment while balancing fretfully on a thin wooden walkway. We make it to the spot, and use our “portable boardwalk” to venture into unknown bog… One plank precariously holds our weight while the other is pried from the muck and wielded into a new location. Move, repeat. We place our 60 red flags and take notes on appropriate carnivorous pitcher plants. 1 good pitcher, not yet open, is on that plant, 2 here.

The next day the sun is out and I am alone. I manage to carry out both planks, winding the makeshift handles over my shoulders, carrying my equipment bag underneath, fighting the vegetation that grows over the narrow path. At multiple points I can’t see where to step, and once I fall as my foot misses its slippery goal and descends into darkness over the ankle. Sluuuuurrp. But my rainboots are tough, and feet stay dry.


Out at the site, everything is vibrant. Brilliant green sphagnum moss, yellow water lilies, the red veins of pitcher plants. When I squat close to the ground, I see more different insects together than ever before. Beetles, butterflies, ants, mosquitoes and other flies of all kinds; lovely mimics and unusual colors. Sundews vie with Sarracenia purpurea pitchers for insect meals, using their sticky sweet tentacles. Bog laurel flaunts perfect geometric pink flowers, springloaded to fling pollen if bumped.



I squat delicately at the end of my plank and cover pitchers with green gauze bags, securing them with zip ties. Four treatments, four colors. This one needs to be gently opened, and fed sterilized ground up wasp meal. That one needs a bag that is left open to insect access. Over there the pitcher has no bag at all. Controls and potential issues. Has this plant flowered? Check. Oops, don’t put my weight all at one edge or I’ll be seesawed into the bog. The swampy surface looks quite solid, but very quickly one realizes that the top layer is a thin mask, and a foot can easily break through it, leaving the attached body waist-deep in slurpy slimy muck. Planks spread my weight, and the protective layer holds.


Creatures of the Berkshires
The Pringle Lab recently had a retreat in the Berkshires:
we saw purple strange-shaped fungi,
fireflies at night (I used a 15 second exposure, so you can see their flashes),
the largest mushroom I've ever seen (a Ganoderma applanatum, also called Artist's Conk, because you can etch onto the white undersurface). My advisor, Anne Pringle, can be seen peeking around the tree...
(I used it as an umbrella)
and, last but not least, a red-spotted newt, Notopthalmus viridescens.







Saturday, March 26, 2011
Fun-a-day Boston Show
Dan and I were part of a gallery exhibit for Fun-a-day (one piece of art per day for the month of January). It was at the beautiful Nave Gallery in Somerville at the end of February.
I did sketches and close-up photos of daily objects in my life.
Mine are the photos and drawings in the middle.
Early morning frost on the window.
Dragonfly wings, stained glass.
Blue guitar.
My old broken headphones.
Spoon.
Small scissors.








Tuesday, January 4, 2011
My Insects
This fall, I collected insects for my entomology course. The collection contains over 100 individuals from about 15 orders and 65 families.

I will introduce you to some of them, up close and personal (with photos from my new camera).

Giant water bug, in the family Belastomatidae.
A taphritid fly with colorful wings.
Dragonfly from the family Aeshnidae.

Green lacewing, Chrysopidae.

I will introduce you to some of them, up close and personal (with photos from my new camera).

Giant water bug, in the family Belastomatidae.



Green lacewing, Chrysopidae.
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