I like to point out to people that leaves have two sides and
when those leaves are growing close to the ground, you have the opportunity to
examine both sides. In general, highly
mobile creatures are more likely to be found sitting out in plain view such on
the upper leaf surfaces. Creatures with
greater vulnerability are typically more hidden, like on the lower leaf
surface. It’s interesting to watch
someone scrutinize the upper surface of a low hanging cluster of leaves, but
never make an attempt to view the hidden surface.
Turning over a leaf is like scratching off a lottery
ticket. The back side of this Black
Walnut leaf made me the big winner.
I don’t know if it’s more proper to say that this was a fly
or that this is a fly. There are
certainly some recognizable fly parts remaining, but there’s a lot or stuff
there that’s definitely not fly. That
yellowish mass is a fungus that has consumed most of the soft body portion of
the fly. That doesn’t sound like such an
awful fate for a dead fly, but in this case, the fungus began its work inside
the fly body while the fly was still living.
Many insect species meet their ends at the hands, or
mycelia, of pathogenic fungi. All it
takes is the spore of the proper species to make contact with its intended
insect host. The fungus grows inside the
host, first attacking non-vital functions so the insect continues to be
active. Eventually a time comes when the
host succumbs to the ravages of the fungus and dies anchored to some leaf or
stem. The fungus completes its life
cycle and spreads its own spores to the wind.
Many accounts attribute the fungus with the ability to
control the host’s behavior. As a final
act prior to death, the host is compelled to head to a high, open perch. Supposedly this position affords the fungus
with the greatest chance of spreading its spores on the passing winds. I question if that’s true in all cases. The fungus victims I typically come across
are usually in a location considered normal for that particular species. This fly for instance, was on the underside
of a leaf; a normal place for many flies to spend the night. I’ve also found fly fungus victims atop plant
stalks, but this too is a normal position to find flies. I’ve probably found just as many in positions
low to the ground, so it just appears that they die where ever they happen to
be when that time arrives. I can just
imagine a group of mad scientists out there feverishly trying to unlock the
mysteries of fungus mind control, but I’ll hold on to my skepticism until I see
a little more substantial evidence of its existence.
Regardless of the many possible interactions between the fly
and its fungus, it’s just plain fascinating that so many species of fungi are
all floating around looking for their own specific host insects. All this was found beneath one small
leaf. Imagine what the rest of the tree
has to offer. If you’re interested, TheBug Geek made a nice post about a moth that suffered a similar fate to this
fly.
Amazing - all the tiny dramas that play out under our noses.
ReplyDeleteHi Pat. Sometimes the action can be overwhelming.
ReplyDeleteFabulous post. Always learning something new from you, thanks!
ReplyDeleteThanks Cheryl.
ReplyDelete