Mark Johnston Photography

10 July 2010: a jewel in the forest

I walk this route many times every year, and every time it is different. I am sure I could walk it every day and still feel the same way.

Although it was typically hot this day, the blue sky was rare - too often the summer sky here is a flat gray from the high humidity. Sometimes it is hard to even see where the sea meets the sky - it's just a gray continuum from below the horizon towards the zenith.

But today, although there were a lot of clouds, the sea was blue and so was the sky.

And the lilies are in bloom.

And I got lucky.

As I passed along the damp, dark path through the coastal forest, a bit tired, a lot hot, and maybe a little punchy from the combined effects of the heat, humidity, and climbing, I instinctively ducked a bit when I heard a loud, short, buzz coming from the thicket on one side of the narrow trail. The buzzing stopped, and so did I, wondering what it was.

It happened again - a dry rustle lasting only a second or two. I cautiously peered into the tangle of leaves and stems and waited. After it happened a couple more times, I was able to see that it was a beetle trying to take wing, but hampered by the density of the foliage.

I pushed aside some leaves and branches and got a better look. What an amazing creature! Even in the darkness, a metallic rainbow glinted off every part. I took a closer look, and did what every boy would do - I reached in and grabbed him - carefully, by the thorax - the insect's mid-section.

What came out squirming between my fingers was what is called a "tama mushi" [玉虫 or タマムシ] - a "Japanese jewel beetle" - Chrysochroa fulgidissima (Schonherr, 1817) - a slender, elongate beetle whose name derives from its spectacular colors.

Doing the best I could do keep him from prying his way out of my grasp, I managed to wrangle my camera into position and took a couple of photos one-handed.

And then I just tried to get ready to shoot a few more after I put him down on the trail, figuring that in his agitated state, he would take to the air immediately once I let go.

I put him down, and was surprised that rather than flying away, he started turning in circles - a couple of revolutions one way and then the other. As often as I could get focus, I took another photo. And continued to do so as he clambered up the slope of a rock, and paused at the peak.

You have to understand that if you are a beetle, taking flight is a complex operation, with several steps that have to happen in order:

1. First you have to climb to a good launch point.
2. Then you have to open your elytra, the hard outer wing shells, swinging them forward and upward to get them out of the way of your flying wings, which lie beneath.
3. Next, you have to extend your flying wings, which are folded against your body, but have now been uncovered by the retraction of the elytra.
4. And then, finally, you swing your flying wings forward and start beating them against the air.

And that is why the launch point is important, because you need to have room to get all of your flying gear unfurled, and even then it is good to have a little height in which to overcome the weight of all that armor you are carrying and lift you into the air.

Fortunately for me, it took him several attempts to get it all together, during which I shot the photo included here.

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This page last modified: 21 August 2010.