Editor’s note: Arizona State University photographer and videographer Deanna Dent recently joined researchers from the Biodiversity Knowledge Integration Center on a trip to southern Arizona, where they collected insects after a heavy monsoon. Here’s what she learned.
This year may well be one of the wettest southern Arizona monsoons in recorded history, and that has resulted in vibrant plant growth and increased insect and animal populations after years of extreme drought.
The photo above shows a large pond in the prairies near the US-Mexico border, east of Nogales, Arizona, and that’s exactly what researchers at BioKIC, or the Biodiversity Knowledge Integration Center, wanted see. The researchers planned a monsoon collecting trip last weekend, and although it is open to researchers, students and their families, they were kind enough to invite me with them as well. As a native of Arizona, it was a rare chance to go out onto our public lands and learn about the plants, insects, and animals of southern Arizona.
When I first arrived at the Coronado National Forest campground Friday night, white sheets were being set up, glowing in the dark. These white sheets are attached to a metal frame with a mercury vapor light at the top and a black light resting in the middle of the sheet. The lights were connected to a generator and ran until midnight, attracting all types of insects from the darkness. Between dinner and breaks, the gossips examined the leaves to see what had been attracted, commenting on the variety and beauty of the insects. The researchers chose between taking the small insects in their hands and placing them in vials or jars, or using the aspirator, a kind of vacuum cleaner that sucks up the small insects with a filter protecting the operators. These methods work well, but what I found interesting was that experts don’t know why insects are attracted to lights. They have theories, but no one knows why they are attracted to bright lights.
Students, scholars, and community members all spend time together, creating a strong sense of community interest. I’m more than welcome to ask a series of silly questions to experts in their field about how many insect species there are in the world or why they collect this beetle but not that one. Or why are moths dusty? And thankfully, there are no awkward questions.
I ask, “Why this particular area of the Patagonian mountains?”
“This type of mountainous area, and up to the Santa Rita Mountains north of us, had a lot of really interesting records, from jaguars to a lot of reptiles and amphibians that just entered the United States from Mexico. and are expanding their range here,” said Andrew Johnston, invertebrate collections manager and mealworm researcher. “So there were a lot of potentially interesting things to discover in the least documented mountain range.”
As the night continues, we find Arizona’s state reptile, an Arizona crested-nosed rattlesnake, curled up at the base of a tree a few feet from a campsite. We walk the little stream looking for frogs and toads, which you can hear but not really see. A camper shares the cicada he found moulting, while botanist Elizabeth Makings shares a desert beetle and a dragonfly resting on the white sheet.
I also learned that although experts are very knowledgeable about all mammal species on Earth, there is a huge question mark over insect species.
“It’s likely that we haven’t described even half of the diversity of insects that currently exist and live in the world today,” Johnston said.
A lack of knowledge about insect life in an area adds to a lack of future understanding of our environment and ecological systems, as climate change affects our condition over time.
The generators go out at midnight and people head to the tents for the evening. As the sun rises over the mountains, the green sweeps across all the mountains and prairies below, a shocking green that almost seems out of place in Arizona these days.
In the morning, Makings and researcher Ed Gilbert lead a creek that runs through the campground with three ASU undergraduates – Ethan Wright, Marcus Reid, and Mary Haddad. Makings spends time walking with students as they explore herbs, plants, insects and the environment.
“I love doing field work, I mean why don’t you get buggy and hot and sweaty,” said Makings, who helps organize the trips. “It’s all about camaraderie and, you know, interacting with scientists who are…amazing in their field, and I just love learning from everyone.”
Gilbert’s son, Aven Klecker, manages to catch a fence lizard with his lizard lasso. While holding the lizard in his hand, he turns it over and gently rubs its belly, which puts it in an immobile state. He shows the trick to Haddad, who holds the lizard until it jumps up and runs away.
As we finished our walk, another group of searchers jumped into four-wheel-drive vehicles to explore mountaintop areas accessible only by rough forest roads. As we pass through some of the more scenic areas, we look for areas of interest and eventually stop at a high point with a depression that has filled with water, creating a sort of pond in the center.
Researchers launch themselves into the water with their nets to catch dragonflies or photograph botanical species. With each interesting discovery, everyone rushes to take a look before the insects are released. School of Sustainability researcher Rick Overson spends time photographing the various insects with his 100mm macro lens, and environmental and zoological collections manager Laura Steger uses her net to collect dragonflies before finally returning at the camp. After a quick lunch, another group of searchers head to the almost chest-deep prairie areas near the US-Mexico border.
Just outside of Lochiel, Arizona, we pull over on a road and head into a grassy area, after getting wet from the road to Scotia Canyon in the Huachuca Mountains. We can see the monsoon storm clouds all around, but we don’t get a hint of rain. The grasses give way to a small pond where there is a frog and a western hog-nosed snake, which is apparently a county from which it is described as having a range; Noted. We fix a flat tire and someone passes around Trader Joe’s cookies as we decide to climb to reach the campsite before dark. People try to bet if the rains hit our campsite and if their sleeping bags will get soaked.
We reach camp to find that it has not only rained but hailed, and while those who remained have done their best to protect the area, everything is wet and damp. Unfortunately, that means most bugs won’t come out of the white sheet at all, so we sit down and eat a spaghetti dinner together. People are sharing photos of the day’s finds. We hear jokes and stories about past journeys and nearly impassable roads, and a limerick or two before everyone goes to bed.
The next morning, everyone sits down for breakfast and one last basic touch as the camp breaks down. I’m interviewing Johnston and Makings and recording the sound of the creek, flowing with water this morning, and planning my route back through Patagonia to Tucson and back to Phoenix. Makings walks away with more than 150 grass specimens – a slew of samples after years of drought, which can take weeks to process at the Alameda Center.
Johnston shows me the tools of the trade, including forceps, a vacuum, nets and archival vials – although take-out containers can also work temporarily. He sometimes says he keeps samples in his freezer until he’s ready to process, and I wonder if that ever surprises anyone. It’s a beautiful bright morning as we all get back to normal life, and I’m glad to have spent this weekend in nature with such an amazing group of experts.
