I’ve sometimes been accused of seeking out a bit of drama to add some spice to my life, and I admit–I am guilty as charged. But it has always been the “wow factor” of things in the world that get me worked up and float my boat. The recent photos from NASA and the Webb telescope showing our universe as it existed 13 billion years ago is a good example of the mind-blowing aspects of life around us.
Human beings have long been drawn to unique, unusual and exclusive experiences. Perhaps it’s the rarest painting, the oldest wine or the hottest car that gets us revved up. Here in Arizona, one only needs to look out the window to be amazed by the endless variety of natural wonders in our high-desert community. So you can imagine my excitement when I accidentally discovered a brand new, never documented, unique and unknown species of animal in the Amazon rain forests of Ecuador more than 25 years ago. (Drum roll here.)
I’ll explain the details of that discovery, but first, we have some big news for those of us living in Arizona. Not one, but two brand new species of scorpion have recently been identified in our state. This may not be thrilling news for those of us who have found the pesky critters in our closets or hidden in a folding chair (I’m speaking from experience here) or the remains of one after your cat wrangled it from a dark corner of the den.
Arizona just happens to be the home of the bark scorpion whose bite is definitely worse than its bark. Actually, the sting of our local bark scorpion is comparable to the pain of an electric jolt. They can potentially cause some symptoms like loss of breath, numbness and vomiting.
One of the recent scorpion discoveries was in the Santa Catalina Mountains, and the other in Madera Canyon. They are both approximately an inch long and at this point there is no indication of how dangerous their sting is. Before we get too excited, I should note that there have been more than 100 species of scorpions discovered in Arizona so far. And this news brings me back to the story of my own history-making Amazon adventure and scientific triumph.
Or so I thought.
In 1995 I was flown in a shaky Cessna airplane to the small city of Coca, located at the confluence of the mighty Rio Napo and the Coca River in Ecuador, known as the “gateway to the Amazon rain forest.” From there a motorized canoe carried me and a handful of other adventurer/tourists to “La Selva”, a research station along the Amazon River. It was there that I was walking with my naturalist guide on our daily exploratory expedition when I spotted the most beautiful insect I had ever seen, perched under a wet Heliocarpus tree leaf.
“What is that?” I exclaimed. The biologist took a look and informed me that I had discovered a heretofore unknown animal. My delirious thoughts turned to what I should name the creature in the scientific annuls along with the endless interviews on CNN that I would most likely be invited to. The fantasies ran rampant as I reveled in my good fortune; until I felt a tap on my shoulder.
My guide casually informed me that scientists estimate that 86% of the world’s species have yet to be discovered. Add microbes and bacteria to that number and it jumps to one trillion. My celebration was tempered by the realization that I was but one species in a very large world. And I finally understood, in that moment, the very thing I had come to the Amazon to discover. We live on an immensely diverse planet where every life is a wonder, regardless of any name or title we give it, and where an estimated 150 species become extinct every single day. The act of discovering is not nearly so important as the art of appreciating. Every species, including us, endured a long evolution to get here and do exactly what they were designed for. With that in mind, I’m admiring rattlesnakes, spiders, and scorpions in a whole new light.
Khevin Barnes lives in Vail where he spends an inordinate amount of time checking out bugs.
