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magazine / mj02
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May/June 2002 issue |
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FEATURE
Friend or foe? |
It’s a bug’s life |
Grasshopper facts |
Grasshopper anatomy
Grasshoppers on film |
Nature’s symphony |
Literary hoppers |
Archives
It’s a bug’s life
A tour of Canada’s national insect collection reveals the importance of cataloguing these diverse creatures
By Tobi McIntrye
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| Dr. Jean-François Landry, entomologist
with the CNC, displays a case of butterflies commonly known as “Blues”, from
the Lycaenidae family. |
For researchers at the Canadian National Collection of Insects, Arachnids and Nematodes (CNC),
everyday is a bug’s life.
This amazing collection was first appointed to James Fletcher, an accountant-turned-entomologist
from the Library of Parliament in 1883. Back then it consisted of 12 steel cabinets and
600 drawers. Today it has grown to approximately 15 million specimens systematically arranged
in 1,400 steel cabinets, housed on the third and fourth floors of the K.W. Neatby Building
of the Eastern Cereal and Oilseed Research Centre in Ottawa, Ontario.
I am here to see the collection as a guest of Dr. Jean-François Landry, an entomologist
who has been with the CNC for 16 years. I’ve come to learn more about grasshoppers,
but by coincidence we do not have access to the room in which they are kept. But there’s
no need to worry; Landry quickly shows me that there is much to learn about this special
collection. The first question in my mind is why is it important to have a record of insect
diversity?
"It has never been so important and critical as today," says Landry. "In
the face of environmental degradation, climatic changes, the alteration and disappearance
of natural ecosystems and the increasing spread of alien and introduced organisms, having
a long-standing historical record that can be analysed to make comparisons with the present
and future state of our environment is vital."
It might seem odd that a collection of this size isn’t housed in a museum. "It
was a quirk of fate that the CNC ended up here, separate from the Museum of Nature," says
Landry as he leads me from his office. "But the purpose of most collections is to
display. The purpose of the CNC is research."
And research these scientists do. "Our projects are usually developed around problems
in agriculture (pest species) or biodiversity (endangered species)," says Landry,
whose research focuses on the systematics of small moths (Microlepidoptera). In fact, the
whole CNC works within the systematics paradigm.
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| This male parasitic fly (Phryxe pecosensis) has a known distribution from Alaska
to California, across the continent to Massachusetts up to Newfoundland. |
"Systematics
is the scientific discipline devoted to the study of biodiversity, beginning with the identification
and classification of organisms," Landry explains as he opens the doors to one of
the thousands of steel cabinets and pulls out a wooden drawer filled with small, purple
butterflies. "Look at them," he says, "lined up like little soldiers."
We look at the tiny insects, speared and held forever in their places with pins, and the
small, multicoloured labels containing their vital statistics beneath them. Landry fingers
the yellowed paper. "We rarely keep a specimen without the data," he says, sliding
the smoothed, wooden drawer back in its alphabetical slot and withdrawing another case filled
with an army of insects. "That’s what’s important."
As he explains the different labels beneath the insects, some written in scrolled letters,
some methodically typed, Landry mentions that only about 10 percent of the world’s
insects are named. "It is an on-going project to update these old labels," he
says, an almost Herculean task since the number of scientists at the CNC has dropped from
around 40 to just under 15 over the past decade, due mostly to retirements. The yellowed
labels appear brittle compared to the crisp whiteness of the newer labels. But the contrast
between old and new is to be expected in an historical collection such as the CNC, which
is, in fact, part of Heritage Canada.
The collections are preserved in many different media: "dry" collections, or
pinned insects; "wet" collections where the insects are stored in liquid preservative
or mounted on slides; and, following the technological times, a special 3-D photography
method where the images of some insects are eternally preserved in great detail.
Technology has been a friend to entomologists by other means as well. DNA techniques have
proved to be a very useful gadget in the taxonomists’ tool box, says Landry, providing
a new group of characters (genes) for studying organisms. But, as Landry points out, DNA
data do not provide a substitute for classical taxonomic data — they simply add to
them. "It is important to realize that DNA data do not make much sense all by themselves," he
says. "They always have to be tied down to specimens and species to be interpreted
correctly."
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| Monodontomerus aerus Walker is a parasitic wasp measuring just over 2 mm in length.
Parasitic wasps comprise 80% of the CNC’s entire wasp collection. |
Through
the two storeys holding the collection, Landry weaves through a maze of metal and wooden
cabinets, overflowing from their rooms into offices and hallways. He passes through the
moth and butterfly room, fly room, spider room and ends up in the wasp and bee room. We
encounter other research scientists along the way, eager to help, willing to impart information,
their enthusiasm and pride in their work evident. Landry’s colleague withdraws what
appears to be an empty drawer, but when looked at more closely is filled with tiny, almost
invisible insects. These are parasitic wasps. "These wasps prey on the eggs of a leaf-litter
insect, only a few millimetres long," says Landry as I bend forward to see if these
specks of dust have legs or bodies. "Parasitic wasps are the smallest insects in the
world," he adds. Unable to see any insect-like features on the specks of dust, I agree
with his statement
You might say some of these parasitic wasps are part of the CNC’s staff. "They
are working insects, preying on the eggs of agricultural pests," says Landry, as he
leads me from the room and down the hallway.
"The CNC has one of the largest collection of parasitic wasps and bees in the world," he
says proudly as he opens the door to another room, this one filled with books, "as
well as the largest entomology library in Canada." We browse through the volumes as
varied in age as the insects in the building. Landry selects a volume published in 1793
filled with detailed images of butterflies, each plate hand-painted with exquisite perfection. "This
volume is worth more than its weight in gold," says Landry, gently closing its aged
cover and sliding it back among four other books just like it.
We move from the room and pass an old log book, perched on a shelf next to the library.
Landry asks me to sign the old volume, a visitor’s book dating back to 1956. I feel
honoured at the request, adding my name to more than 40 years’ worth of visiting
scientists and researchers from around the world. I tell Landry that I feel as though I
am entering my name into history. He smiles and says, "I guess preserving is what
we do best here."
If the entomology bug has bitten you, check out the CNC’s website: res2.agr.ca/ecorc/cnc/.
Insect photography courtesy of Klaus B. Bolte, Natural Resources Canada
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