Dudu Diaries

One of the most resonant quotes from the bible comes from King Solomon crying out to his people: “Go to the ant, you sluggard. Consider her ways, and be wise” (Book of Proverbs 6:6)

I have recently been looking very closely at some of the most marvelous and industrious of all little creatures - ants. These are harvester ants and I look forward to sharing more with you about them in the near future…

And many thanks to everyone for the comments and questions - I will respond more fully to some of these soon.

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The flanks of the Kerio Valley are draped with forests strewn about plunging waterfalls and headstrong streams. Narrow tongues of forest snakes their way down the steep escarpments clinging to the courses of the rushing, life-giving streams.

The forests along these water-courses are relatively tiny, yes, but incredibly rich in different kinds of birds, frogs, insects and spiders. They are a pleasant place to stop and rest after a long day of chasing energetic butterflies.

In one forest patch, with the low-slung late afternoon light is streaming through the trees and pale delicate translucent butterflies – aptly named ‘the forest-haunting white’ – are drifting aimlessly about. The light is dappled, and I am day-dreaming, not really paying attention, slowly climbing a steep path.

Suddenly, I am face to face with large black spider. She wriggles her legs, twitching to let me know, as if she is saying: ‘Please don’t walk into my web!’ At first glance it seems as if she is floating in mid-air. A closer look reveals that this is a clever ploy. I marvel at the cunning with which she has sewn her trap. It is, for all intents and purposes, utterly invisible! And of course this is how she has planned it – not to snare unsuspecting naturalists, but for wary insects who will be fooled into thinking they are flying into an open space only to be caught.

As a slight breeze stirs the strands of her web, they catch the light and glisten softly, appearing, then vanishing again. Spider silk, as delicate as it seems is actually stronger than steel would be if stretched so fine – and to think that this is spun fresh each day from her glands at the tip of her abdomen!

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Some of nature’s most wonderful children are shy, elusive creatures. There are over eight hundred different kinds of butterfly in Kenya. Some of these like the gaudy swallowtails and emperors are heart-stoppingly gorgeous, with colours that simply take your breath away and have to be seen in the living creature, dancing in the sunlight, to be fully appreciated.

Many butterflies are less colourful, but nonetheless fascinating. One of the most diverse groups of butterflies are the lycaenids – the blues and coppers. While most of the species are fairly small – with wingspans of less than an inch, they are like miniature works of inlaid jewelery, full of iridescent colour and minute detail.

Not only are these tiny butterflies exquisitely beautiful, they are even more amazing in terms of their life-cycles, as many of them live as caterpillars in close association with various kinds of ants. Some of them even develop inside the ants’ nests, and departing from their image of gentle, harmless creatures have turned carnivorous and feed on the ants’ brood – their larvae!

One group of these butterflies that is very diverse in Africa are the Giant Cupids – the genus Lepidochrysops. They are very localised butterflies and little is known about their life history – something that I am hoping to investigate.

Finally, after many weeks of searching – climbing hills and mountains all over Western Kenya, long, hot walks along the edge of the Great Rift Valley, and carefully probing through dozens of fields of wildflowers I found some of these enigmatic butterflies in the Kerio Valley.

I was walking down a dappled path in the late afternoon. The hottest part of the day was done and now the sun, warm and soft, sifted through the leaves and splashed onto the flowers growing everywhere. An oriole flitted through the branches overhead and alighting in a thorny Balanites proceeded to sing out his delicious melody that flowed through the bright air. As I listened, day-dreaming, out of the corner of my eye a fast, shining silvery-blue being whirred by. He danced down the path. My heart almost stopped beating – no, could it finally be? Yes, he turns and dances back down towards me passing me again. Twice he passes by, then suddenly, tired by his showing off, settles on a flowering Barleria where I can admire him up close!

I have a feeling that this special meeting will lead to much discovery and joy

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Another bright, sunny morning in the Kerio Valley – and still on the trail of the elusive Giant Cupid butterfly. I’ve been searching for caterpillars among the buds of various wildflowers. This year has seen incredible rains that have gone on and on, well beyond the normal ‘long rains’ that should have petered out in June-July. Blessed with the extra moisture the red of the valley has responded with an exuberance of blossom everywhere.

The sins of overgrazing by goats have been covered by crocheted blankets of creepers and eroded gullies are draped with thickly-woven blankets of pointillist greens: olive green of the succulent Cissus and Cyphostemma, pale viridian from the Kalanchoe, the sombre, speckled leaves of aloes and a myriad of herbs and grasses shot with bronze, purple, rose and pink.

I am seated on the ground poking gently through buds of a sweetly-scented herb. This is one of the places that I suspect the Giant Cupid butterflies might be laying their eggs. After several hours work, all I’ve managed to find are a tiny green cricket and an infinite variety of ants, visiting to imbibe nectar from the fat glands that are found below the flowers.

Looking towards a new stand of herbs, I see a small, blackish form waving gently in the breeze. It seems for all intents and purposes to be a spider. With dark spindly legs sticking out at all angles. However, these spiders don’t move, they are fixed to the stem of a short, stout succulent plant. It looks like a species of Caralluma. These are succulent plants, like small cacti, found in the drylands and deserts of Africa.

I peer closer at the flowers – they are exquisite, and unusual, with dark fingers and hairy fringes. Then suddenly, among them I notice a tiny bubble; bright and colourful. Is this a flower bud? Oh! – it moves! It wriggles along the stem and edges out of view. I lift the flowering stalk and gently tease the creature back up to where I can see it. Yes, it is a ‘flower’ – but one with eight legs! This is a remarkable flower-mimicking spider.

Amazing how nature plays with form. For perched here on flowers that resemble spiders, sits a spider that looks just like a flower!

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It is an even hotter day than yesterday in the Kerio Valley. The sun beats down from a pure blue sky, a rare sight after weeks of daily thunderstorms. I have been searching diligently for ants’ nests. I am on the trail of a bizarre and wonderful butterfly, the Giant Cupid, that lives in a bizarre and twisted association with certain kinds of ants in the ground for part of its life (more on that later).

Searching for the ants’ nests involves gently turning over rocks. It is mid-morning and the rocks are already warm to the touch. Thanks to the relentless assault of sun, rain and goats, most of them are well-weathered and readily exposed. On the speckled ground between them an vast assortment of ants run back and forth busy with their daily activities.

Not just ants, but millipedes, crickets and wood-lice or ’sow-bugs’ as they are sometimes called, also make their homes under the rocks. Each time I turn over a stone there’s a sense of anticipation – and often someone staring back with an indignant look. As if to say “Why are you disturbing my nap?”

Under one rock that is wedged quite deeply I spot a narrow burrow leading into dark depths from its edge. This calls for help – I have a sturdy shovel that I can use for leverage – luckily humans invented tools that can do more that we ever could with our flimsy little hands! With a little resistance and a sighing creak, the rock yields and I roll it over. I kneel down and scan for ants – looking for the tell-tale aggregations of pale larvae and bundled-up pupae.

My hand is resting on the ground by the shovel. I feel something tickling it and look down. Even before I register what it actually is – my entire being has shuddered and I have leapt backwards in surprise (thankfully there was no one else, save for a few bug-eyed goats to witness this entomologist behaving like this!).

As if offended by my unexpected outburst, a large, dark scorpion scuttles under the shovel. Suitably shaken, I regain my composure and step back down to examine the friendly beast. She sits calmly under the shovel as I peer closely and wonder overcomes my initial fear.

This is a magnificent example of an Emperor Scorpion. Emperor Scorpions are members of the genus Pandinus, which means curved in Latin and refers to the long, elegant curved tail bearing the sting at its very tip. This large scorpion, while looking scary, is really quite gentle (for a scorpion that is!). Even though it had the chance to sting me as my hand rested near it, it didn’t. These scorpions are only mildly venomous and use their massive pincers, not their venom, to subdue their prey which includes crickets, millipedes and even small rodents.

I gently move the shovel and the Emperor Scorpion scuttles forward following fast its soothing shadow. Having just displaced her from her cosy burrow, I let her use the spade as a shelter as I continue to pick through the soil for ants before replacing the rock. At once she scuttles under it clicking her claws in contentment at having been restored to her home. I continue on to the next rock – this time I wear gloves…

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