Science Travel

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I love toucans, but there is something unreal about the Emerald Toucanet. Toucans are always brilliantly colored, but the emerald toucanet is a brilliant green - such an ethereal color for such a large bird.

The emerald toucanet above, which I photographed in Panama while with a group of birders, is also called a Blue-throated Toucanet. Look at its throat. If you would see the same species in Mexico, for example, you wouldn't see the blue throat.

Blue-throated toucanets, then, are a subspecies of Emerald Toucanets. But, ornithologists currently recognize seven different, and distinct, subspecies of the Emerald Toucanet, and they all have great names in their own right - our Blue-throated, the Wagler's, the Emerald subspecies, the Violet-throated, the Santa Marta, the Andean and the Peruvian.

While I love toucans, this guy in particular is a good lesson in the future of ornithology. Right now, science recognizes about 10,000 species of birds. But as we learn more about biology, DNA and genetics, we get a better glimpse into whether certain animals should be categorized as sub-species, or their own species.

Many believe that within the next quarter-century, the amount of bird species known to science will jump from ten thousand to perhaps as high as 25,000. The reason has nothing to do with more discoveries - although new bird discoveries still do happen. It's about more refined biology being used to reclassify birds.

For the birder's who are walking with me, seeing this Blue-throated Toucanet could end up having a profound impact on their hobby in the future. Let's say they've seen the Emerald Toucanet in Peru, Venezuala, Costa Rica, Mexico and now Panama. If biologists decided to split the bird into seven species, these birder's total species tally will increase.

In ornithology, there is a reverse side to 'splitting.' It's called 'lumping.' In taxonomy, there are lumpers and splitters; and both sides have valid arguments about whether certain species need to be split, or certain species need to be reclassified as a single species. In the world of ornithology, both are happening constantly, and following the conversation is a nice way of peering into the future of taxonomy.

Note the blue wings on this butterfly from Ithomiinae (a subfamily of Nymphalidae) - you can see the vegetation behind them. The wings of these delicate jungle butterflies give them an ethereal elusive quality. The bright blue sheen only comes out with the camera's flash, or in just the right light.

There are 370 clearwings in the world, ranging throughout Latin America. Their invisibility, along with their preference for certain types of plants, gives them a bizarre smell and taste that every type of animal, from bird to mammal to insect, despises.

These butterflies can afford to be delicate because they have cornered the market on assuring their safety.

If you read my post on the white mystery spider, you should know that I received a response from the Department of Entomology, University of California Riverside. They found an image of a spider in Brazil which looks identical.

Species name? Epicadus heterogaster, or White crab Spider.

Although this is a different species, look at this David Attenborough video on the power of white crab spiders.

Above is a wold spider, probably about 8 inches in diameter, which we photographed hanging over a river on a large leaf, preparing to pounce on an appropriate prey. Wolf spiders are so confusing, I won't attempt to ID this guy any time soon.

Just received another email from the Dept of Entemology:

The taxonomy of the genus is such that there are only six species, and it looks like only one of them is recorded outside of Brazil, actually - Epicadus granulatus. However, using geographic distribution to make a species ID is NOT wise. There is no reason that E. heterogaster could NOT be found in Panama, nor any of the 4 remaining species (or, for that matter, it could also be undescribed).

Labelling the photo "Epicadus sp." would be as far as you could go, then.

I believe in an absolute minimum in photography equipment - stay light and leave the dozens of lenses to the gear junkies. I have the luxury of saying this because for many years, I have traveled with a very heavy camera, whose sheer weight requires me to shave off the extras.

In the past 2 years, I've added a digital Canon to my backpack for the sole purpose of shooting telephotos. More recently, I realized Notes from the Road could also benefit from macros. For each type of photography I add, the backpack gets heavier and I learn ways to shave off even more weight.

I have been practicing macros in Panama and have over a thousand images of all manner of tropical critters. I want to share this one with you because the mystery is spectacular. Before I start to reveal what it is, and just how amazing this thing is, I want to challenge my readers to attempt an identification. Please note that I have not confirmed the species, but I know enough to know the biology of this organism. Join the discussion at my Facebook page if you know anything about this, or just want to take a wild stab. Tomorrow, I'll reveal more detail.

Updated:

Online Travel Journal
We know this much. The creature in the photo below is from the family Thomisidae, which means the animal below is a type of crab spider. Now, the mystery continues because we don't yet know its species name, or even its genus name.

When I first saw this spider, I instantly remembered a documentary by David Attenborough in which he highlighted very specialized spiders that resembled orchids. I called this spider a 'white orchid spider.'

Here is what I have uncovered by talking to spider enthusiasts over the past couple days.

1. Crab spiders don't build webs. Rather, they have complex means of ambushing their prey.

2. Many species in Thomisidae have evolved to look identical to the parts of a specific type of flower. These crab spiders are often referred to as flower spiders or, more specifically, orchid-mimic spiders.

3. I have found an online photo of this animal, in which the author called the spider an orchid-mimic spider.'

4. The photo above was from the Amazon, but I photographed my orchid-mimic at high elevation in Panama. Such diverse geography and habitat would suggest this creature is widespread, but why then did the other reference claim he believes he is the first person to ever photograph this spider?

I just photographed new butterflies in Panama. Want to help me identify them? The new ones start here.

I love toucans, but there is something unreal about the Emerald Toucanet. Toucans are always brilliantly colored, but the emerald toucanet is a brilliant green - such an ethereal color for such a large bird.

The emerald toucanet above, which I photographed in the Central American isthmus while with a group of birders, is also called a Blue-throated Toucanet. Look at its throat. If you would see the same species in Mexico, for example, you wouldn't see the blue throat.

Blue-throated toucanets, then, are a subspecies of Emerald Toucanets. But, ornithologists currently recognize seven different, and distinct, subspecies of the Emerald Toucanet, and they all have great names in their own right - our Blue-throated, the Wagler's, the Emerald subspecies, the Violet-throated, the Santa Marta, the Andean and the Peruvian.

While I love toucans, this guy in particular is a good lesson in the future of ornithology. Right now, science recognizes about 10,000 species of birds. But as we learn more about biology, DNA and genetics, we get a better glimpse into whether certain animals should be categorized as sub-species, or their own species.

Many believe that within the next quarter-century, the amount of bird species known to science will jump from ten thousand to perhaps as high as 25,000. The reason has nothing to do with more discoveries - although new bird discoveries still do happen. It's about more refined biology being used to reclassify birds.

For the birder's who are walking with me, seeing this Blue-throated Toucanet could end up having a profound impact on their hobby in the future. Let's say they've seen the Emerald Toucanet in Peru, Venezuala, Costa Rica, Mexico and now Panama. If biologists decided to split the bird into seven species, these birder's total species tally will increase.

In ornithology, there is a reverse side to 'splitting.' It's called 'lumping.' In taxonomy, there are lumpers and splitters; and both sides have valid arguments about whether certain species need to be split, or certain species need to be reclassified as a single species. In the world of ornithology, both are happening constantly, and following the conversation is a nice way of peering into the future of taxonomy.

I photographed this lacewing while picking blueberries at Sauvie Island in the Pacific Northwest this weekend. I've been carrying the camera around to practice my macros as much as possible, to try to learn something new for my travels this fall. When you look for macros, you discover a whole new side to the world.

I have no idea which lacewing species this is. There are 4,500 species in dozens of genera, and they all look pretty much the same. Do you see the tiny hairs on this guy's transparent wings? Those are a special adaptation to help the lacewing cut through the tangles of spider webs.