The Urban Pantheist

If I can influence people in any way to tolerate these beautiful creatures, then my efforts are worthy. Scutigera coleoptrata* inspires instant fear or hatred in most people, as a first impression. True they are invaders from Europe (like many of us) but they are predators that feed on other, less welcome invaders. House centipedes prefer small flies and cockroaches, and have no interest in biting humans. This one appears to be interested in the instructions on the kiddie pool--but it was merely trapped in it, the way they often become trapped in bathtubs and sinks.


* Scutigera means "shield bearer" and coleo- means sheath, but I'll be darned if I can find what -ptrata is supposed to mean. Linnaeus is playing another trick on us modern readers.

I'm a rock-flipper from way back. My childhood was all about finding flat stones and dead logs and checking under to see who was home. My first concept of "centipede" was formed here: a quick orange beast with about 30-50 legs blasting away at the sight of light. Then there was this creature--the geophilomorph centipede.

Yes, it is still a centipede: more than 3 pairs of legs (many more) with one pair of legs per segment, and flattened in cross-section. But instead of darting away, these little guys crumple up--not coiling like a millipede but forming an untidy ball.


Left alone in the palm, they undo themselves and head off to find cover. At this point I'd like to mention that this is far and away the largest of this kind of centipede I've ever found. Usually these worm-like centipedes are a millimeter wide at most, stringing out to a couple centimeters in length.


This one might be 4 cm in length. There are geophilomorphs that are 4 times as long, somewhere out there. These relatively soft and slow predators feed on insect larvae and worms in the soil, compressing and extending their bodies like earthworms. Like all centipedes they use modified front legs as venomous fangs to subdue their prey.

I used to think of house centipedes as strictly indoor creatures until I moved to the cottage three years ago. Now I'm as likely to see a baby like this one scuttling along the outside wall as I am to to find one trapped in the kitchen sink.

I have one more day's worth of photos to share, but there's a lot of them and I don't want these two to get buried:


Here's my pal rockbalancer taking a picture of a very active scolopendra. This genus of centipedes is large, fast, and bears a venomous sting in its front legs that reportedly hurts like a bastard. I'm not allowed to have one as a pet.


This little wolf spider is packed with personality! She's only about an inch and a half in scrunched-up diameter.

I keep making mental notes to post links, and my mental notebook is full! Here are some items of interest from the internet, and possibly the real world too.


Courtesy of g_weir: ( an excerpt from Seven Ages of Paris by Alistaire Horne, explaining where France's taste for horse may have come from--the seige of Paris )From http://delanceyplace.blogspot.com/

From anais2: Perhaps dried squirrel is more to your liking?

I discovered this one on my own: Lethal centipede sting! (Includes gory pictures). "Nearly 5,000 centipede bites are reported every year in Turkey." Book your trip now!

In case you missed it in my Soylent Screen review, The apparent origins of the "Futurama" them song!

On this day in 365 Urban Species: Common eider.

photos by cottonmanifesto

Urban species #079: Garden centipede Lithobius forficatus

To my knowledge, there is no word analogous to "arachnophobia" to indicate a fear of centipedes. Yet many people I know are made much more uncomfortable by centipedes than by spiders. Something about they way they move, they way they combine scuttling with slithering, something about them inspires revulsion in many many people. Most centipedes are, of course, totally harmless to humans. There are a few large tropical species whose venom can ruin your day, or in one case end your life, but since not many people are inclined to handle them, biting incidents are rare.

Like spiders, all centipedes are predators, and they use their venom-filled jaws (actually a pair of legs adapted for the purpose, called "forcipules") to paralyze or kill their prey. The forcipules (I just learned the word, and now I've used it twice!) of Lithobius centipedes are too small and weak to penetrate human skin. Garden centipedes are most often encountered by children (and the young at heart) turning over logs and rocks. The orangeish-brown centipedes scurry madly from the light in all directions. They can't see well, and prefer to do their hunting in the dark, feeling about with their antennae and avoiding becoming prey themselves. As far as birds, salamanders, and shrews are concerned, garden centipedes aren't creepy, they're delicious. Lithobius centipedes feed on insects and spiders, and should be considered welcome guests in the garden.

Lithobius forficatus is the most common centipede in Europe and North America, and the order Lithobiomorpha, to which they belong includes more than a third of all known centipede species. In case you're wondering, and haven't counted yet, Lithobius forficatus has 30 legs. No centipede has 100 legs, despite the name.

Any place in the city that has enough soil, moisture, cover, and prey animals is likely to have Lithobius. Rotten logs are favorite hiding places, probably because of the fungus-feeding insects and isopods that are attracted to them. Most houses are probably too dry to be popular habitat for garden centipedes. Houses are better habitat for Scutigera centipedes. While some species of centipedes are well described, there is still a lot to be learned about them, even the urban species. In fact, in 2003 in New York City, an entirely new species of centipede was discovered.

( one more )

This beautiful animal has provoked an amazing amount of revulsion on my friend's lj (50 comments and counting!) Of course, once I was outed as a centipede lover (and cockroach owner!) it was all over for me. They'll never listen to anything I say again. Oh well! :)

http://home.grandecom.net/~rachel/images/bug1.jpg

It's on the bottom of one of those 5 gallon buckets, so it must be a bit over 6 inches long. Just gorgeous. Too bad they killed it.

Edit: Whoops! I meant to post this in invertebrates only. But when you consider that this creature found its way into an office building in Austin, I guess it belongs on The Urban Pantheist, too. And you thought you had it bad with house centipedes! http://entmuseum.ucr.edu/images/Scutigera.jpg