Oebalus pugnax

Arron Cannon - UNT Geography Major

Searching around my apartment complex for an interesting spot to deem a mandala I came across an extremely orange, interesting looking insect that was perched on a tree branch about three meters from the side walk I was walking down. The bug had an awful but unique smell that seem to be more concentrated the closer I came. What struck me as strange was that the weather was a cold, in the high fifties, too I cold I had previously thought for insects to be out and about. The pungent reeking bug had a tiny, circular spot that laid right in the middle of the critter’s thorax. The black spot was perfectly shaped in all directions. I followed the spot with my eye multiple times and at multiple angles to see if I could find a flaw in natures perfectly drawn circle but failed to locate an error. The insect’s antennas were also of a bright orange color. I questioned nature’s reason behind such a bright color and what evolutionary path created such a loud, un-camouflaged insect. Then I thought, with such a foul smell to kept predators at bay the insect did not need to be camouflaged to thrive, predators could not get close enough to kill or eat the insects from becoming overwhelmed from the disgusting aroma the bug secretes. How witty nature can be at times I also thought. Then, with absolute no warning the horrid stench admitting bug quickly crawled into a crack in the tree and disappeared from sight. All that remained was the profane smelling remnants that placed the bug at the scene only moments ago.

Photo courtesy wikipedia.org

After arriving back home, my attention then moved to researching the strange insect I had just encountered. The scientific name for the queer orange bug is Oebalus pugnax or better known as the rice stink bug. I found that the type of stink bug was not native to N. Texas, which was even more interesting. How did the insect get to N. Texas? I found that most other information dealt with the insect being a pest but particularly to rice fields. Honestly, I was more interested in the odor the bug produces when threatened than I was with the bug being a pest to rice fields. I also found through further research, that I was lucky that the bug did not expel a stream of potent Trans-2-Decenal and Trans-2-Octenal (the chemicals mixed to produce the horrid smell) at my face since most stink bugs can shoot the odor inducing chemicals several inches from their abdomen. The fact that the bug was admitting the smell proved that I had threatened the little critter in such a way that stimulated its odor producing gland. I know now to be more cautious when approaching an insect I’m not familiar with for the next time I may not be so lucky.

Squirrels in the Hood

Kevin Hernandez - UNT Social Science Major

Today is my last post, the Mandala is hardly recognizable from the first time we came out here. It is amazing to think about how far it has come from the first week. Everything is in full bloom, the flowers in the field are back as are the clovers, the cottonwood and the post oaks are fully green and beautiful and the Mexican plums are much taller and more tree looking than they did at the start. This is also the most extensive grouping of bugs I have seen, along with the roly-poly bugs, there are many fast moving, small black ants and a few much larger fire ants. This is also the first time in a month that I have had squirrel activity in the Mandala, even though it was just a brief passing through to another tree. Most surprising of all are the birds, up until this week, I hadn’t seen a single bird in my Mandala, today however I was graced with the presence of two robins as they chased each other through the cottonwood branches. I’m so glad we have done this Mandala project it has made me much more aware of my surroundings and has given me a much deeper interest in nature.

Last Post

Jacob Korte - UNT History Major

Today is my last post, the Mandala is hardly recognizable from the first time we came out here. It is amazing to think about how far it has come from the first week. Everything is in full bloom, the flowers in the field are back as are the clovers, the cottonwood and the post oaks are fully green and beautiful and the Mexican plums are much taller and more tree looking than they did at the start. This is also the most extensive grouping of bugs I have seen, along with the roly-poly bugs, there are many fast moving, small black ants and a few much larger fire ants. This is also the first time in a month that I have had squirrel activity in the Mandala, even though it was just a brief passing through to another tree. Most surprising of all are the birds, up until this week, I hadn’t seen a single bird in my Mandala, today however I was graced with the presence of two robins as they chased each other through the cottonwood branches. I’m so glad we have done this Mandala project it has made me much more aware of my surroundings and has given me a much deeper interest in nature.

Final Look

EESAT Waterfall: Photo by author.

Skip Warren - UNT History Major

I come away with wishing I had a full season observing this spot. However, watching through three months of winter as it transitions through to spring has allowed for the most interesting and turbulent weather changes in a typical Texas season. The most violent weather occurred while away. But the mandala took it in stride as it has done every previous season. What was once thought dead is in fact alive and thriving. Other life that was thought could not survive has proved very resilient. We will miss observing the summer’s unrelenting heat and many rainless days. It is sure to take a toll on some life while other types will bask in it. 

Through the winter I observed countless minnows, a wasp and a hornet, one mockingbird, one cardinal, two sparrows and a red tailed hawk at altitude. One squirrel planted an acorn. Low ground cover, leaves and shrubbery trapped blowing trash which later disappeared under more dead leaves. The leaves then disappeared as spring growth broke through in a thick carpet. Surprisingly there was no flowering of any plant other than very sparse dollar weed. Pond algae grew by several inches as spring took hold making for a fresh source of food for the minnows. I saw few ground dwelling insects probably due to winter and their hiding under thick plant growth. Those few I did see were flying and too fast to identify. Other changes to the mandala are much too slow to see under any circumstance yet one knows they are happening. The waterfall and rain beat down on the sandstone slowly eroding it away into silt. Water froze and thawed in small cracks in the rock, which over time will make erosion easier. Lastly, during the entire four month period I saw only two people take time to observe with me and that was on the very last day. No one else gave the area a glance. It was nice to take time again just being quiet and watching. People don’t do it nearly often enough.

I drew pictures the entire time. I leave with an actual photo.

Dauber Nest

Ross Krouse - UNT Geography Major

Doesn’t look like my mandala location has been mowed in quite some time now and the grasses are taking off, little to no human influence can be found since last week’s visit. I’m starting to enjoy the fact that the lawn crews have left this area alone, it feels as if it brings more life to the area. Maybe we need to start thinking this way in areas that we mow frequently like roadsides, it would be healthier to grow native species in those areas than to just keep them groomed and more “pleasurable to the eye”.

Today a dirt dauber’s nest in one of the post oak’s has caught my eye. The common name for this insect is a “Mud Dauber;” most people are afraid of these little guys because they resemble wasps or other stinging insects. They are meticulous in their practices; I spend some time observing the females as they leave the nest to retrieve dirt and continue to build their geometric nest with ease. It makes me wonder how these bugs know their jobs and just do what they need to do to survive with just instinct. Its mind boggling when you think of how many insects there are and how many jobs are getting done by each of them everyday around the globe.

Springtime Rush

Ross Krouse - UNT Geography Major

Times are changing in my mandala location. As soon as I walk up I can feel it radiating off of my area of observation. Too me it seems as if it’s a completely different place, with a whole new feeling of life and energy seeping out everywhere my eyes look. Exact opposite of when I started in January.

The first thing I noticed was the prevalence of insects in my mandala, from creepy crawlers to aerodynamic flyers and all sorts in between. In my area there is a garden of Texas native pollinating plants, and I think they are doing their jobs quite well judging by the level of bug activity. But you can tell some clean up of the mandala has been done by humans because it looks too “pretty” and “organized” not like it would look if it would be left alone after planting. The bugs are harsh but nothing like the marshes of south Louisiana, or anything like the Amazon. But to us at this location that we are used too it seems like a lot. Just like someone from the Caribbean might not think it’s so hot in Florida but someone from Wisconsin would think Florida is boiling.

The post oaks are taking off with the springtime rush; they have changed substantially. They look fresh and flourishing instead of dry and dormant. Just being in their presence gives me a feeling of being tiny and fragile. They look so powerful and majestic, and every time I glance their way I can’t help but think about what kind of crazy vast roots systems they must have to hold themselves up. The grass hasn’t been cut. I think it looks better this way and more natural.

I’m starting to think the insects find me more attractive than the pollinating species.

Cattails Redux

Chris Buchanan - UNT Integrative Studies Major

I am sitting on the edge of the pond that lies at the center of my Mandala. It is halfway through the third week in April. The sun is out, the sky is blue and clear on this warm, spring afternoon. The turtles are active today, swimming around the pond energetically, as they search for food. Tiny Gambusia fish are everywhere, feeding on insects and other nutrients that are floating on the surface of the pond. The Gambusia fish are very small, “minnow-size,” but their bellies are quite large and round, nearly doubling their size. Gambusia fish are commonly referred to as mosquito fish because they feed on the larvae of mosquitos.

Cattails on the pond; photo by author.

Directly in front of where I am sitting, a small cluster of cattail plants are sprouting out of the water, surrounded by a short protective fence. Cattails are commonly found, clustered together in small groups in up to 2 ft. of water, in marshes and other wetlands throughout most of the world. Cattails are a very invasive species and they reproduce by using the wind to spread their fluffy seeds, and rhizomes, across the environment. The rhizomes quickly produce new shoots that grow into thick stands. Cattails flower from May through July. Their tiny flowers do not have petals and they are arranged into densely packed, cylindrical, spikes. The spikes are separated into male and female sections. In the spring, the male spike will detach from the plant after it sheds its pollen. Beginning in early fall, the flower enlarges into the large cylindrical brown head that we so commonly use to identify the species. After this, the head pops open, allowing the wind, water, and the force of gravity to spread its’ seeds and begin the process all over again.