A pair of Canthon imitator beetles with a dung ball – the larger female pushes while the smaller male rides. This rolling behavior is shared with its close Florida relative, the common tumblebug (Canthon pilularius). Photo by Whitney Cranshaw, Colorado State University, Bugwood.org.
Dung Beetles of the Florida Panhandle
Mounds of excavated sand mark the tunnel entrances of Peltotrupes profundus in a scrubby Florida landscape. Photo by Lyle Buss.
There aren’t many creatures that can stir up a mix of admiration – and possibly some mild disgust – like the dung beetle. But if you spend much time around pastures, the woods, or even in your own garden, you might be surprised to learn these literal poop-pushers are the unsung heroes in local ecosystems – especially when it comes to soil health.
Dung beetles, which are primarily members of the Scarabaeidae family, specialize in feeding on and burying animal feces. That might not sound glamorous, but they more than earn their keep in the ecosystem. These beetles break down waste, aerate the soil, recycle nutrients, and reduce parasite loads in pastures. By quickly burying dung, they limit fly breeding and prevent harmful bacteria from hanging around longer than necessary.
In our part of Florida, where livestock, wildlife, and backyard chickens are common, dung beetles can play a quiet but essential role in keeping both landscapes and gardens healthier. While you might not see them directly in your raised beds, the soil health benefits they bring to the wider environment ripple out in ways gardeners can appreciate.
A male rainbow scarab (Phanaeus vindex) with the distinctive horn used in battles over dung. This native beetle is one of Florida’s most colorful nutrient recyclers. Photo by Joseph LaForest, University of Georgia, Bugwood.org.
Not all dung beetles are the ball-rolling athletes we imagine. In fact, most species in Florida are what we call tunnelers – they bury dung directly underneath where it lands, creating little underground pockets of fertility. Others are dwellers, who live inside the pile and lay their eggs right there.
While most of our local dung beetles are underground specialists, we do have at least one native species that performs that famous backward march. If you’re out walking after a summer rain, you just might spot a shiny black beetle with spiny legs rolling a dung ball twice its size – just one of the many native species quietly doing their part beneath our feet.
Native Dung Beetles of North Florida
While most people wouldn’t recognize a dung beetle if it landed on their compost pile, a surprising number of native species are hard at work across the Panhandle – from open fields to pine flatwoods to the edges of suburban backyards.
A female fiery scarab (Phanaeus igneus) emerges from a sandy tunnel in the Florida Panhandle. Photo by Erik Lovestrand, UF/IFAS.
One of the flashiest is the rainbow scarab (Phanaeus vindex), a heavy-bodied tunneler with a brilliant metallic sheen – often green or blue with coppery highlights. Males sport a single, curved horn and are known to spar over fresh dung like tiny armored knights. They’re most active in the warmer months and are common in both wild and grazed areas.
Another native jewel is the fiery scarab (Phanaeus igneus), which also shines with a coppery or red metallic glow. A Florida subspecies, P. igneus floridanus, occurs across central and northern parts of the state. These beetles prefer sandy soils and natural areas like longleaf pine uplands or scrub habitats, quietly tunneling through dung from wildlife or livestock.
And then there’s the Florida deepdigger scarab (Peltotrupes profundus), an endemic species found only in Florida. This dark, robust beetle creates conspicuous sand mounds in scrubby or pine-covered landscapes. Below those mounds? Tunnels that can run several feet deep. These beetles aren’t exclusive dung feeders – they mix organic matter into the soil, creating long-lasting soil channels that help roots breathe and water move more freely.
Adult Peltotrupes profundus, a Florida-endemic beetle known for its deep tunnels in sandy soils. Photo by Lyle Buss.
Finally, we have one native species that actually does roll its dung: the aptly named common tumblebug (Canthon pilularius). This smaller black beetle sculpts dung into neat balls and rolls them away to bury. They’re usually seen in open areas and pastures during the warmer seasons. If you spot one, enjoy the show – they’re fast, efficient, and usually gone in minutes.
Non-Native Dung Beetles in Florida
Several non-native dung beetle species have also become established in Florida, introduced in the 1970s to help manage cattle manure in pastures. These include species like the gazelle dung beetle (Digitonthophagus gazella), bull-headed dung beetle (Onthophagus taurus), and the sandy dung beetle (Euoniticellus intermedius). All three are tunnelers that quickly bury fresh dung, reducing fly populations and improving soil fertility. They’re now widespread in pastures across North Florida, especially in the summer and fall. Another common non-native is the European dung beetle (Aphodius fimetarius), a small red-and-black species that acts as a dweller, living and breeding directly within the dung pile itself.
The common tumblebug (Canthon pilularius) is one of the few native dung beetles in Florida that rolls dung into balls. Photo by Kansas Department of Agriculture, Bugwood.org.
While none of these introduced beetles are currently considered invasive, some researchers have raised concerns about how they might compete with native species for dung – especially in heavily grazed pastures. That said, most tend to stick close to livestock areas and haven’t been shown to disrupt natural ecosystems in a meaningful way.
Soil Helpers, Garden Allies
For gardeners and farmers alike, dung beetles are some of our most efficient natural tillers. Their tunneling mixes organic matter deeper into the soil profile, improving structure and water infiltration. That means fewer compaction issues and better moisture retention during our dry spells. In pastures, studies have shown that they can improve grass growth and reduce runoff – pretty remarkable for something that lives in poop.
If you’re already focused on fostering a sustainable landscape, be sure to give dung beetles a spot on your list of wildlife to appreciate and protect. In a world full of tidy lawns and picture-perfect beds, dung beetles remind us that beauty isn’t always what you see on the surface. Sometimes, the real work is happening just below it.
A tiny juvenile praying mantis stalks prey on a gloriosa lily. Photo credit: Carrie Stevenson, UF IFAS Extension
The gloriosa lilies have been in full glory, so to speak, in our garden at the Extension office the last few weeks. While photographing them, I noticed a tiny visitor hidden in plain sight among the flower’s frilly petals and stamen. A bright green juvenile praying mantis, no more than an inch long and the same shade of green as the plant, stood still directly in front of me.
A Larger Florida Mantis perches on blazing star flowers in Sarasota. Photo credit: chaseyb via iNaturalist
Praying mantids are often recognizable and well-known due to their interesting body shape and posture. They have other wild features, too, like gigantic folding “raptorial” (grasping/predatory) front legs and the ability to swivel their big-eyed, alien heads 180°. The large European mantid’s Latin name, Mantis religiosa, comes from the insect’s posture when hunting. It sits or stands with its forelegs folded up as if in prayer, before deploying them rapidly for a meal. All mantid species are ambush predators, capturing prey by sitting in wait, camouflaged in color and shape. They’ve even been observed swaying gently to appear like leaves in the breeze. But when they spring to attack, they are deadly accurate.
The charismatic praying mantis, in stealth attack position. Photo credit: University of Wisconsin Extension
The insects are known for their infamous (but rare in the wild) post-mating male beheading. Mantids are not alone in that cannibalistic behavior—many insects and spiders exhibit this conduct to boost the energy of females as they produce the next generation. Most mantid species are tropical, but of the 2400 known worldwide, only about 20 live in the United States (11 in Florida).
Mantids are considered natural pest control in a garden, although they are generalists and will prey on both beneficial and pest insects. With those spiky front legs raised in the air, they drop down and grasp prey ranging in size from aphids to—rarely—hummingbirds. Their effective predatory behavior doesn’t make them immune from becoming prey themselves, however. Mantids are a food source for many species, including bats, birds, spiders, and fish.
From spring to early summer every year, a certain grasshopper can be seen in the Florida panhandle: the eastern lubber, also known as the Georgia thumper. Sometimes emerging in huge numbers, this can be distressing to residents who suddenly find themselves amidst what might appear to be a plague of biblical proportions. Females lay eggs in the soil, and seem to prefer woodland areas with soil that is neither too wet or too dry. With each female laying one or more ‘pods’ of eggs, and each pod containing up to 80 eggs, this can lead to a lot of grasshoppers!
Nymphs are the young and immature form of the grasshopper, and appear different than the adults. Newly hatched lubbers are black with a yellow, orange, or red stripe running down their backs. They range from about ½ inch to 1 ¾ inch long while still in the nymphal stage, and tend to stay together in groups. Adults are seen most often starting in July, growing to a size of up to 3 ½ inches in length. Adults may remain black, but are often seen in lighter colors, from yellow to orange.
An adult eastern lubber grasshopper.
Eastern lubbers feed on a wide variety of plants. While adults prefer low, wet areas, they will sometimes damage crops or ornamental plants. They eat less than one might expect, given their size, but groups can still defoliate plants if left unchecked. Thankfully, they cannot fly, and therefore do not range over a wide area individually.
If these grasshoppers become a problem in landscapes or gardens, control methods are best undertaken early, while the insects are young. If populations are not great, they can be hand picked and removed. If treatment with insecticide is desired, there are several products available that kill lubbers. For individuals desiring a more ‘natural’ insecticide, products with the active ingredient spinosad are relatively safe to use, if slow acting. Spinosad should be applied in the early morning, late evening, or at night, to avoid affecting foraging pollinators such as bees.
Other insecticides will also work, including those with the active ingredients carbaryl, bifenthrin, cyhalothrin, permethrin, or esfenvalerate. Note that the active ingredient may not be the same as the brand name, and may only be listed in smaller print in the ‘ingredients’ portion of the product’s label. Avoid applying insecticides too close to water bodies, as they may harm fish.
When I walk around the garden every day I take a little inventory of how things are growing, what is flowering, and am always on the lookout for new bugs I haven’t seen before. This past week I was pleasantly surprised by what at first I thought was a bee with a long mouthpart (proboscis), but soon realized it was not a bee at all!
This small, flying insect buzzed up to purple flowers on several plants in my garden. The body was covered in golden hairs with some black showing through giving it that distinctive bee look. The proboscis was so long in proportion to the rest of the insect that it reminded me of the beak on a hummingbird. Still thinking it was a bee of some kind I started trying to get a picture and that is when I saw the telltale antennae and eyes that clued me in that this was not a bee at all, but rather some type of fly.
So, what was this strange looking insect? It is a bee mimic commonly called a bee fly (Bombylius spp.). The bee fly not only looks like a bee, but it takes advantage of native bees to support its young. The female bee fly watches where a ground dwelling solitary bee makes her nest and as she forages for pollen to feed her young the bee fly drops an egg nearby. After hatching the bee fly larva makes its way into the real bee’s nesting chamber and eats the pollen provisions then eats the bee larva. Since solitary ground dwelling bees tend to aggregate in similar suitable locations, I can only guess that the bee fly’s clever disguise prevents it from drawing attention as a threat to the hardworking bee.
During the summer months, we can’t seem to get away from insects. Whether it’s a fly circling your food, those pesky aphids in your garden, or a mosquito out for blood, they make their presence known. But when winter rolls around and temperatures drop, they seem to disappear. But where do they go?
Unlike humans, insects are exothermic or cold blooded. They cannot regulate their own body temperature and must rely on the heat of the environment. Each insect species has its own developmental threshold, a temperature below which no development takes place. For many insects, that threshold is about 50 degrees Fahrenheit. This means that when temperatures drop below 50 degrees Fahrenheit, consecutively, the insect is not active, and no development is occurring. Typically, the warmer the temperature is (as long as it is above the development threshold), the more insect activity we see.
Insects may also enter a state called diapause, which is similar to hibernation. During diapause, an insect’s metabolism slows dramatically, and the insect stops feeding, growing, or reproducing. This allows the insect to survive through cold winter conditions, conserving energy until temperatures warm up again.
Another insect survival technique during the winter is migration. Many species of insects migrate to warmer climates to escape the cold. A well-known example of this is with the infamous Monarch butterfly migration. Monarchs migrate south to Mexico to overwinter and survive the cold weather. Some other insects migrate in smaller, less noticeable ways such as moving to different micro-climates. For example, beetle grubs may move down deep within the leaf litter to stay warm. Insects like lady beetles may congregate in large numbers inside homes, barns, or buildings during the winter.
Some insect species can produce glycerol, a type of anti-freeze, that prevents their body from freezing even when temperatures drop below freezing.
While many insects seem to disappear during the winter, they’re actually using their time wisely and although, cooler temperatures may slow down their activity, they won’t necessarily change insect populations drastically. Insects are well adapted for survival, and they are here to stay. They’re just enjoying a break until the warmth of spring brings them back!
Doodlebugs create pitfall traps in dry, sandy areas to lure unsuspecting ants. Their “doodles” in the sand are visible as well. Photo credit: Carrie Stevenson, UF IFAS Extension
It’s been years since I ran across doodlebugs. But when I saw a stretch of their pitfall traps at a campsite near Coldwater Creek in MIlton, I knew it was time to write about them. Lore says their silly name came from Southern kids like me, who watched the larvae drag their bodies around in the sand, leaving patterns (or doodles) etched behind them. These insects have long fascinated children and creative writers, with some of my favorite authors–Twain, Steinbeck, Thoreau–referencing doodlebugs in their books.
Doodlebug larvae are pretty terrifying, with those giant killer mandibles. Photo credit: UF IFAS
Doodlebugs, aka ant lions (Myrmeleon immaculatus—although we have 22 species in Florida!), are fascinating little insects that prey upon ants by creating slippery funnels in the sand. They wait underground below the funnel opening as unsuspecting ants march along the surface and slide down in the ensuing “mini avalanche.” If an ant or other prey item manages to get away, the ant lion can sling sand at it to try and knock it back down into the pit. Doodlebug larvae are the stuff of cartoon nightmares. They possess a pair of giant clawed mandibles, capable of grabbing and injecting prey with a toxin. The poison paralyzes the victim and contains digestive fluids which liquify its insides. At this point, the ant lion goes in for the kill by sucking out the prey’s juices through its deadly mandibles.
An adult doodlebug/ant lion bears no resemblance to its larval stage! Photo credit: Campbell Vaughn, UGA
Ant lions may stay in this frightening larval stage for up to 3 years. After this they undergo metamorphosis, spending 3 weeks in a cocoon. As adults, their transformation is dramatic; they are closely related to lacewings and dobsonflies, with long, thin bodies and large translucent wings.
A doodlebug captures its prey. Photo credit: UF IFAS
As kids, we always found doodlebugs under my best friend’s treehouse. In Milton, they were in a sandy area beneath a cabin roof overhang. These dry, protected sand areas are their preferred habitat and the best place to find them. We used to stick pine needles down into the openings, and watch as a flutter of insect mouthparts tried to grab it from us. Because of their fascinating life cycle and dramatic hunting technique, doodlebugs can be a captivating addition to a science classroom. In fact, there’s a reference to doodlebugs on the NASA website, due to an Apollo 16 astronaut’s mention of them. When landing on the moon, the craters reminded Charlie Duke of doodlebug pits, prompting him to recite an old children’s rhyme, “Doodlebug, doodlebug, are you at home?”
