Tales of an entomologist. About adventures and travel

A horse is a terrible animal. Unpredictable and tricky. I prefer to see it in the sausage.

You say the right thing, Friend Omar.
I fell from them, the bit was a hoof...
Sly brute, almost like Walter...

I was still quite young. Let's go fishing with friends. In the evening, while my friends were cooking a snack, I parked my Zaporozhets near the river, put a white sheet on the hood, put a lantern on it and turned it on. An hour later, I came to check. Such a picture: A thousand (honestly, I'm not lying, no less!) bedbugs-gladyshey sit on a sheet (on the lantern-none) and look at the lantern. I look at them - they look at the lantern. I took the lantern and quickly placed it behind them. The beetles, as if on cue, have simultaneously turned around and are looking at the lantern again. But I caught something unusual in this reversal, I didn't understand what it was at first. Repeated it. He QUICKLY set the lantern down behind them again. And then I realized! THIS thousand TURNED SIMULTANEOUSLY IN ONE DIRECTION. It's fantastic.
But there are no miracles. They were turning in the direction of a moving (albeit very fast) streetlamp. When I turned it off, put it behind them, and turned it on, the crowd began to chaotic, some turning to the right, some to the left. Although the result was the same. They turned around and watched. I thought they were smart. It was a stupid class, wasn't it?

It was a stupid class, wasn't it?

Not at all, I would still take a video.On the right!"To the left!"

About night fishing for insects.
About seven years ago (in early September) I had a chance to catch butterflies at night in the Penza region (near the village of Novaya Yesineevka-mixed forests, settled slopes and wet meadows with impenetrable jungle of willows on the vast floodplain of the Marezhka River). It was cool, the night turned out to be quite "calm", there were clearly not enough butterflies and I frankly missed sitting away from the sheets illuminated by the lantern. The night's darkness was further compounded by cloudy weather... Only the gray hooves disturbed the calm with their screams). The time was inexorably approaching midnight and I was already thinking about going to bed, why not freeze in vain - still nothing interesting (new) does not fly. Then a shadow flickered across the sheet.
Bat probably, here's a pancake and a competitor has also appeared-I thought, but the night guest clearly had a buzz (which was more suitable for some kind of insect). Looking closely at the "animal" hovering once again at the lantern, I made out the outlines of a large hawk moth. Then it's a matter of technique: the hand grabs the net with a familiar movement-a swing, a coup, the free hand climbs into the net, I intercept the wings from the bottom and... OH, THE HORROR!!! this is something-warm and judging by the body temperature is not an insect at all!?????
I jerked my arm out of the way and woke up instantly. There is only one thought in my head - WHAT IS IT? Intercepting the bottom of the net, I bring it to 127 V of the DRL light bulb. I look closely - well, what a butterfly! A large specimen of a female bindweed hawk moth! Wings with perfectly fresh scales (clearly a local generation). Again, I carefully take the fluttering butterfly under my wings from below - IT'S WARM! Well, just like a bird or a bat! Looking at the hawk moth for the FIRST TIME, the thought came to me - AFTER ALL, THEY ARE ALSO ALIVE! So much for cold-blooded, dumb creatures!? I couldn't get my hand up to inject a syringe of ammonia solution into the butterfly. I open my hand and the hawk moth flies away quickly...
The hawk moth's wings constantly raised a rather high temperature of its body. Later, my cousin caught a male hawk moth in early November (!) on the wall of the local zadodishki, under the 250 V DRL lamp. Snow lay all around and in the morning it was already up to - 4 degrees below zero. The wall of the house was a distillery - the stable smell of pervach was carried around the territory... And they also say that in the fall these butterflies fly away to the south (well, who cares about this snail? A real man!).

When the Lithuanian Aidas, with whom I was on an expedition in Mongolia, was asked by the natives what his name was, and he responded with a melancholy "Aidas!", the Mongols broke their stomachs. Because, Aidas is translated from Mongolian as HORROR-S-S!!!
Mongolian is generally a funny language. A woman in Mongolian-cuisine. And this is not a coincidence.
Aidas worked on nocturnal lepidopters and sat under a lamp every night. He made a trap out of an old Chinese tent, simply removing the top awning from it and hanging the lamp from the crosspiece. Once a herd of goats passed through this trap, and Aydas spent the whole day repairing it with thread, needle and obscene words. He called the trap affectionately - "Venus hillock". I often kept him company, armed with a hypodermic syringe filled with ammonia, and stabbed big women.
The birthday of his son Aidas fell on the time of the expedition. Aidas decided to celebrate this event with great fanfare. In the evening, we prepared a festive dinner. He was in a different mood from usual. Properly drunk. The two bottles of vodka that Aidas had prepared for this momentous day slipped by unnoticed. Still, for four men with excess muscle mass and a blush all over their cheeks, like an elephant's pellet. We sit and look at each other. And the nearest stall is more than fifty Mongolian versts away, or two horse-drawn crossings.
Our third expedition leader, Seryoga, grunted, reached into the bucket and, with the words "Oh, these Europeans with their mentality", took out a liter of Mongolian vodka "Genghis Khan".
Genghis Khan ended surprisingly quickly. We sit and look at each other further. Aidas says " I remember! One person gave me beakers with alcohol for fixing ants. " We merged them into one vessel, diluted them with water and let them go around like a brother. There was nothing else to do, so we went out to catch nocturnal broads. They were surprisingly large and beautiful that night. Yes, and we caught them with special passion, having fun jumping around the Venus hillock, showing each other the most colorful ones.
In the morning, Aidas found a dozen crushed butterflies in the sump. The main mass was made up of colorful pebbles.

Tired professor, anxiety, strain, ambushes. I fell asleep... And in his sleep, he mutters, " Damn, where are the males?.."

Tired professor, anxiety, strain, ambushes. I fell asleep... And in his sleep, he mutters, " damn, where did the males go..."

It's a familiar thing when you catch insects in your sleep all night,then you wake up and they are not there!Or worst of all, when before one o'clock in the morning razspravlyaesh, razspravlyaesh, lazhishsya sleep knowing that you have not yet razspravlyat everything, fall asleep and continue razspravlyat all that is left, then in the morning you wake up and have to razspravlyat a second time And this has happened to you(survey)?

there were dreams when I caught a bunch of very interesting beetles, and then in the morning I realized with chagrin that they did not exist

- Yes..... - 1000 times I was surprised and convinced, - what kind of Entomologists are unique and wonderful personalities......

there were dreams when I caught a bunch of very interesting beetles, and then in the morning I realized with chagrin that they did not exist

Oh, Rip...I had other dreams when I was your age!!!

about butterflies?

I dream very rarely at all, but it happens..

Lately, in addition to walking and collecting strange beetles, I often have a terrible dream. As if I had recently returned from a trip, brought rich and rare loot, I open the nightstand, take out a box with a mattress, open it - and there ... in general, there is NO LABEL ON TOP! With horror, I realize that I have already forgotten the dates and collection points, and I strain my brain in vain, trying to remember at least something... and I wake up.

I read with sincere pleasure about Aidas and Venera's bump. From the bottom of my heart, sitting in the Gobi, I wished good luck to Churkin, Saldaitis, Pletnev...
And luck was on our side. How much is new. Eh. Mongolia. After 3 weeks there. Now I'm on the border with Kazakhstan. Mikhailovsky district of the Altai Territory. We eat pilaf and drink exceptional moonshine. Chsibaritstvuemu. Tomorrow we'll go fishing in it and in the light. The seats are excellent.
A pleasant story comes to mind about Mongolia. A boy comes to the camp, let's get acquainted. It was on the richest and microscopic ridge Arshantyn-Nuruu, where 2 species of plants and 3-4 species of day-old butterflies were described. So a guy who was extremely curious wrote down our names on his hand. Then the shepherds neighed from the camp. They carefully transferred the inscription to their own hands.

Soon to the bathhouse. Brooms eucalyptus, oak, birch.
Tomorrow morning in the field.
From jokes. Our permanent driver Mishka Sidorov, a humorous and cheerful man, called the Mongolian-Altai-Tuvan hooligans in two words. Netzke and the Gascons. Both seemed excellent to me. After the incident. I'm on the train. There was an international in our compartment. Tajik, Azerbaijani and Tuvan. There was a dispute as in what people passes the holy rite of matchmaking. Tajik glagolit - we take sheep, homemade wine, fruit... matchmaking. The Azerbaijani repeats - the same thing, but cognac. And the Tuvinian said-and unas also usually take champagne. To which a wiser and older Azerbaijani exclaimed, " What's so surprising is that every nation has its own custom.

RippeR, why are you having my dreams? I didn't understand... Not enough of your own?

"Stop sleeping! - the season is over! (this I say to myself) - There, Yakovlev, how wonderfully awake!
- Now I woke up 20 minutes ago from a terrible thunderstorm, put on a T-shirt, shorts and slates , and ran to the Internet salon without an umbrella... "I also washed my face down to my underwear." - But I didn't get any adrenaline.-Extreme KMV-odsky is no longer enough. Depression of some kind presses hopeless...
- Here is such a "major-philosophical" bike-monologue...

I caught it well today.
Then I will write something in the Fishing Reports
And there is still night fishing ahead. I think it will be fun

Andreas, what do you know about depression?.

Andreas, what do you know about depression?.

- I won't say anything, forumchanin...

If anything, ask a psychiatrist. Which I am.

If anything, ask a psychiatrist. Which I am.

- "Arthropod Psychiatry"! ... - Yes... "I'm behind the times...

Oh, they also experience a neurosis when they find themselves in sachke

Slap your sneaker next to the cockroach and it will start cleaning its antennae. And what is it called here (H. sapiens)?

This is a version of the Scottish extract, a la Major Mcnabbs

"A friend told me once.. (They were with Tikhonov on the Karasu River in Balkaria)
- They sit in the evening near an extinct fire, after dinner. The weather is great. Such prosperity has spread throughout nature, there are no mosquitoes, Praskoveysky cognac helps digestion and mental balance in the interior, bringing sweet languor...".. - Bald (Tikhonov) asks-what is it, Max? "The hawk moth must be stuck... "I'm going to take a look, and I'm just going for a little walk.".. - And there was a bear! - And then the events unfolded like in a movie... "I don't know who was more scared ..." but Maxim went to pee and popped at the same time...

Slap your sneaker next to the cockroach and it will start cleaning its antennae. And what is it called here (H. sapiens)?

It wasn't a joke. As I recall, this is called a biased reaction. And Yakovlev probably knows what people call it.

Humans apparently have a reverse reaction

My advanced hosts in the village of Mikhaylovka, from where I returned safely, gave out a joke.
Gena (the owner) answered the question of his mother - in-law, where we were going to go
-Mom, catch butterflies.
the mother-in-law, knowing her son-in-law as a cheerful person, said nothing.
When her daughter answered the same question
- Gena and her guest had left to catch butterflies - the kind woman was already boiling over and accused the children of bullying her

- yes.. "a familiar reaction... - it usually occurs only in a more rigid form among the guardians of "order" to this answer...

The mother in law is also a guardian of the law

I remember a wonderful friend of mine from the village of Jazator, Kosh-Agachsky district of the Republic of Tatarstan. Altai (those who know this place will appreciate the situation more well). In short, this is the most remote stack in the Rep. Altai.
So the guy is the only Russian for 1400 people by the name of Kavriga said: I see, Roma, a butterfly. Very beautiful. Apparently American!
He also used to say:
"You've driven me crazy, Roma.
"Why," I wonder.
- I began to pay attention to butterflies. She's flying, bitch, I'm glaring at her... And the men laugh.

  
- I began to pay attention to butterflies. She's flying, bitch, I'm glaring at her... And the men laugh.

The same thing for the third day in a row at work razsmotrivayu bronzovok in flight, my workmate was surprised...The next day, he says to me,
" He go look in the bathroom for something .".. sitting (Turned out to be a large caddis fly)
My friends also speak about all unusual insects or also samoelibo another word crap):
"Arthur, do you want that thing on the tree over there, or is it something ordinary?"

This post was edited by Bolivar - 11.06.2009 18: 59

- That turns out to be the main difference between an entomololg and a real peasant, especially an Altai one!

I usually try not to get too hot, but the day before yesterday there was a separate case.

I walked around the city. I didn't work. I look - a piece of thick poplar is lying by the roadside.. I go to him.... And on it - zlatki! Melanophila guttata in the city center! ( I've never seen her live before.) Well, I wander around this stump, grazing so that the little scoundrels don't see me. There, one was sitting on a saw in the shade, and the other was running around on a log . The female must have been looking for a place to put her testicles. And only this female ran away to the other end, I was already sitting down to take off the one that was sitting quietly on the log house, then someone slaps me on the shoulder.... I think, damn it! Now " Citizen, let's go....". I turn around 0 " SAAANA!! Zdarova! " - a classmate )). So I'm glad to see her, nice dude... But I answer coldly and monotonously, still looking at the gold coin.. We exchanged a few words, said goodbye, and at the moment of the handshake, the male apparently completed his thoughts and flew away...
Well, I took the remaining female, wrapped it in a bag of salted fish with pepper, and wandered on. Both happy and upset at the same time ))

Here is a small illustrative story. Misunderstanding creates complexes. And I have no way to cope with them yet

Not an entomological story.
Two familiar hunters, went to hunt a duck.
Shot, accepted. In the evening they sit by the fire. One gogvorit to another:
"Look, my duck is being carried away by a badger!"
The second one answers:
"What a badger, it's a squirrel.
"That I can't tell a squirrel from a badger."

I usually try not to get too hot, but the day before yesterday there was a separate case.

I walked around the city. I didn't work. I look - a piece of thick poplar is lying by the roadside.. I go to him.... And on it - zlatki! Melanophila guttata in the city center!....

It's a pity,but you can still approach him, maybe still get caught?I don't think there are two of them for the whole city

We returned from Aktau. From jokes.
2 Altay women who live in the mine, when they saw my son, said
that the child should not be here, because there are very strong mercury feces.

Yes, the Altaics there at the factory are scary...One is also evil in addition.Just right to sit there by the fire at night and poison scary stories about scary altaics....

Altaiski are different, like Russian babonki...
But those factory employees are really evil. Live among quicksilver feces... You'll get mad at the whole world. Especially the ladies with the nets, who are running around and waving their nets...
In general, they would take and open a hotel for entomologists, would give for a small amount of money to turn on the light.
Stove. Beer would be delivered, vodka on the sly.