The annotated budak

Insectivores

Generally speaking, predators tend to be sharper in look and sleeker in build than their vegetarian counterparts. But the need to outwit both prey as well as other hunters can also result in strategies that defy all expectation. This assassin bug nymph, for one, coats its body with debris and the corpses of its victims, a habit that somehow reduces the chances of it ending up on the menu of other lethal stalkers.

Were it not for the tell-tale eyes, the flattened profile and lichen shades of this sparassid(?) spider would have rendered it invisible on the bark of a forest tree. Most birds and bugs would have no inkling of the arachnid as it scans the trunk for insects that land in its line of sight to live their final moments.

Camouflage is of little concern for damselflies, however. This collared threadtail on a fallen twig near a forest stream had little difficulty intercepting a much smaller insect in the shadowy hours of transition between day and dark. 

Protoneurid zygopterans seldom stray from the shade. Libellulids, however, worship the sun, appearing in strength from secret chambers to bask in the warmth of midmorning rays. Among the smallest of the family, the pygmy percher, is little larger than many damselflies, and the males defend minute territories on marshy fringes with a ferocity that matches their more robust kin.

A convergence of sorts seems to have taken place with asilids, which have honed the flight capabilities of their order to rival the aerobatics of odonates. The thorax has become a sculptured mass of wing muscles and like dragonflies, robberflies appear to have legs that can only cling and grasp. There's no middle ground, it seems, between the thrill of rapid pursuit and the unbearable lightness of being still.

Motion is a double-edged sword for ambushers such as this fish-tailed nymph on the fissured trunk of a tembusu. The darting of even tinier springtails aroused visible excitement in the high frequency wagging of broad cerci and stop-start attempts to dog the collembolans. Without these faint movements, the young mantid would fade from view and feed the fantasies of those who want to wander through the woods and suffer no chance of seeing something wild.

There's a hole there

Soft coral, Pulau Jong.

You can take my heart
keep it or throw it away
but pray don't break it

Hunters and gatherers

Chinese violets puncture the trailside with little white faces and lips of lavender. These wildflowers are popular drinking holes for butterflies and bees, as well as nurseries for nymphs of variable colour.

But not every pale corolla will fade before exhausting its store of nectar and exchanging a serving of seed. The dry corpse of a brown skipper on a leaf beneath a random flowering spike suggested that this pitstop would be a permanent one for many winged visitors. It wasn't necessary to check the underside of the bloom above, for the body of a honeybee dangled visibly from the jaws of a female crab spider. I was already late for the party; half a dozen or so dipteran jackals had already arrived. The flies jostled for position and even darted all over their host's face as she drank her fill and her venom dissolved the worker's tissues into a lymph of bemused juices.

Spiders that rely on silk run the risk, too, of sharing their catch with robbers and thieves. The shapeless creation of a theridiid proved no obstacle for an assassin bug that lumbered through the net to investigate the abandoned shell of an alate. This black and yellow species is an able hunter in its own right, but its clumsy exploration of the arachnid's trap offers a glimpse into the path taken by others in its family, which have mastered the art of striding on sticky strands and even engage in hostile takeovers using stilt-like legs and the armament of mantids.

Despite having their weapons imitated by reduviids and lacewings, praying mantids continue to thrive wherever prey abound and their bodies are able to blend in with a stage of subtle colour. Needing no venom, craft or traps, the average mantid has the speed and strength to grapple prey nearly its size and chew its way through before the victim has time to die and deliver a final spell of judgement.

Springloaded hindlegs and a nervous disposition help alert grasshoppers evade the arms of hungry adversaries. But the fecundity of their tribe remains their mightiest defence, and nymphs of every instar plague the wayside vegetation, feeding and fleeing in the hope of attaining adulthood before falling prey to the whims and fancies of a jungle that never seems neutral.

A mere "M' of white bedecks the web of this St. Andrew's Cross spider, as we made a U-turn on the muddy trail. She will probably not be there when we return, for even hunters enjoy brief runs through life that soon end in the maws of other predators or the rebooting of a franchise in sacs where the genetic fingerprints of two survivors are remixed to create a new line of weavers with the adaptive wisdom of vanished ages and perhaps a slightly better spin on things.

The otterman speaks...

... at the Science Centre tomorrow, 2-3 pm, on the wilder side of Singapore.

Anemosities

Some of the loveliest things around are also the deadliest. A mere brush against the tip of any these tentacles spells a painful end for tiny marine creatures and a welcome meal of protein to supplement the day's slow harvest of sunlight. It's probably why these cerianthids continue to bloom in the dark, when the cool waters teem with blindsided animals and erupt with the seed and swimming larvae of nameless, nocturnal trysts.

Two circlets of tentacles and a long tube of slime distinguish peacock anemones from actiniarians proper. The animals display an alluring diversity of colours and patterns that turn Sekudu's shore into a meadow of monsters with pretty faces and a touch that packs a punch.

True sea anemones also stalk the rubble, but other than the saucer-sized stichodactylids, most are modest and muted, the better perhaps to snare sleepy fish as they dart about in blind panic.

Though sessile, the cnidarians are far from passive. A passing fin triggered a stiff call to attention from this stubby column and a palpable shudder of excitement as the tentacles swung in the direction of a fleeting taste of fresh meat.

The swimming anemones that cling to fronds and floating debris appear rather more sedate than their anchored kin. With tentacles that stick more than they sting, the animals prefer to flee rather than fight, having traded a bulky body for a mop of synchronised strokes with the strength to ward off only the very mildest of animosities.

Pens without paper

Combining imagined rudeness with the delicacy of dry dandelions, sea pens are overlooked cousins of corals and sea anemones that poke out from the seagrass bed to gather the dust of minute marine life. A central polyp sacrifices its ability to feed to support a brethren of autozooids and provide anchorage via a basal bulb.

Some colonies are slim cylinders with a fuzzy coat of slender, transparent secondary columns. Others are quill-like, with spiky extensions that form a feathery nest for protective porcelain crabs. But the most common colonies at Sekudu's shore are vertillids with pale and wine-red constellations of long-columned polyps. A few appear nonplussed, with most of the zooids retracted into the central rod. But those that refuse to blink stand stiff and sway gently, their tentacles wide open in a burst of eight-rayed stars on a pen that fails to record all I care to remember of the years we shared and lost to a descent into madness.