By Nève Djevalikian-Couture, MSc student at Concordia University
Wild blond capuchins (Sapajus flavius) (2 females eating sugarcane, one of them carrying an infant) in the Atlantic Forest of northeastern Brazil (Picture by Italo Ferreira)
Content warning: This article contains an image of a dead infant capuchin monkey.
From capuchin monkeys to salmon
Last summer while conducting my MSc fieldwork in the Brazilian Atlantic Forest (training for which was partly supported by a QCBS Excellence Award. Thank you QCBS!), I observed a group of wild blond capuchin monkeys (Sapajus flavius) and noticed something that took my breath away: an exceptionally small newborn clinging to its mother’s back. Surely no more than a few days old, it was the smallest I had ever seen in the wild. The next day, we found the same group, but something different immediately caught my attention. The mother was now holding that same infant under her arm (instead of carrying it on her back). Through my binoculars, I confirmed my sad suspicions: the baby had died. We watched her continue foraging and keeping up with the group while still carrying, grooming and licking her lifeless infant. I was emotionally shaken.
Female blond capuchin eating sugarcane with one hand, while still holding her dead infant in the other. (Picture by Nève Djevalikian-Couture)
A few months later, while travelling to Victoria, BC, to present my research at a conference, we made a stop at Goldstream Provincial Park. There, I witnessed a very different reproductive scene. Hundreds of salmon, mostly chum (Oncorhynchus keta), some coho (O. kisutch) and chinook (O. tshawytscha) swam frantically upstream to spawn. After depositing thousands of eggs in the gravel, these exhausted fish would die, never to see their offspring. Big birds, bald eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus), sea gulls (Larus pacificus), ravens (Corvus corax) and crows (Corvus brachyrhynchos), were already at the scene, opportunistically feeding on eggs and carcasses. Interestingly, this spectacle brought back the image of the capuchin mother clinging to her infant, still caring for it hours after its death, and somehow, I was still just as emotionally shaken.
Birds gather along the Goldstream River during the salmon spawning run to feed on eggs and carcasses.(Picture by Nève Djevalikian-Couture)
This contrast illustrates two fundamentally different reproductive strategies and raises important questions: Why do some animals have only one offspring every few years (like elephants), while others produce large numbers of young all at once (like salmon) or have frequent larger litters (like rats and mice)? What drives variation in parental investment across species? The answer, I learned in one of my favourite ecology classes a few years ago at UQAM.
Different evolutionary strategies
In 1967, ecologists Robert MacArthur and E.O. Wilson proposed a framework to understand why species reproduce so differently. Their theory is based on a simple idea: organisms have limited energy, and they must divide it between survival and reproduction. Some species, like rabbits, known as r-selected(r standing for the intrinsic rate of population increase), invest in producing many offspring, but spend little time or energy on each one. Species that are r-selected are associated with characteristics such as small body size and shorter lifespan. Others, like humans, called K-selected species (K standing for the carrying capacity of the environment), produce fewer offspring but invest much more in their care and survival. They usually are bigger and live longer. These differences are part of a species’ life history traits (things like how long they live, when they start reproducing, and how many offspring they have) that have evolved to help them cope with the conditions of their environment.
The salmon example
Number of returning salmon of each species for the 2025 spawning season at Goldstream River. (Picture by Nève Djevalikian-Couture)
When in Victoria, I got to observe just how much energy salmon put into reproducing. They migrate back to their freshwater birth location by swimming hundreds of kilometers upstream, and their bodies change as hormones get them ready to spawn. At the spawning site, females dig in the gravel and each one releases a couple thousand eggs that are fertilized by the males. After that, they provide no parental care at all. After spawning, most of them will die from exhaustion and decompose. Their body will break down and add nutrients to the ecosystem, which might help a few offspring survive. Out of all those thousands of eggs, very few get to hatch and even fewer make it to adulthood.
This kind of strategy works well in unpredictable environments, where survival is mostly a matter of luck. By producing so many eggs, salmon make it more likely that at least some will survive, no matter what challenges they face.
Salmon swimming upstream – see silver-grey streaks in the water (Picture by Nève Djevalikian-Couture)A nearby park sign explaining the salmonid life cycle (Picture by Nève Djevalikian-Couture)
The capuchin example
The capuchins I observed in Brazil show the opposite reproductive strategy. Females usually give birth to only one infant about every two years, but the amount of care invested in that single offspring is very high.
A mother spends an incredible amount of energy gestating, giving birth, feeding, transporting and teaching her offspring. For the first few months, the infant clings almost constantly to its mother as she moves and forages through the canopy. I watched mothers spend long periods grooming their young and teaching them important skills. Weaning takes many months, and even after that, young capuchins stay close to their mothers, continuing to learn social behaviors and group dynamics. In some species, males contribute substantially and directly to parental care as well. Even in capuchin monkeys, where males are much less involved than females, males do participate in parental care, sometimes helping with infant transportation.
This K-selected strategy has clear benefits when looking at survival rates. For primates, although mortality is highest during the first months of life, individuals that survive this vulnerable period tend to have very high survival, with rates approaching 100% between ages 2 and 6 in capuchins. Each offspring represents a major investment, and mothers focus on maximizing their chances of surviving long enough to reproduce.
While we still don’t know if capuchins can truly understand death, it is reasonable to suggest that behavioral responses such as mothers continuing to carry and groom their dead infant reflects the depth of such an intensive parental investment.
It is also interesting to note that, while a distinct concept from parental investment, many K-selected social species also exhibit cooperative behaviors such as caring for injured or disabled group members. This represents another type of investment that may contribute to the group cohesion, survival of kin, and individual survival, something that’s less common in r-selected species who focus more on rapid growth rather than on developing a stable social group.
A continuum of strategies
To come back to reproductive strategies, r- and K-selection aren’t rigid categories. They are more like two ends of a spectrum. Most species fall somewhere in between, and their reproductive strategies have evolved to fit the conditions they live in. Where a species lands on this spectrum depends on things like how stable its environment is, how likely its young are to survive, how long it lives, and how much competition it faces for resources. Generally, species in stable environments lean toward K-strategies, while those in unpredictable or changing environments lean toward r-strategies. Even though r- and K-selection are still useful ways to think about reproduction, scientists today also talk about “fast” and “slow” life history strategies instead. It’s basically the same idea, but these terms better capture how we now understand animals to be spreading their energy and effort across their lives.
Adult female blond capuchin monkey (Sapajus flavius) carrying offspring (infants in the first two images and a juvenile in the third one) during locomotion and foraging. (Photograph by Italo Ferreira)
Conclusion
Observing parental care in capuchins and watching salmon spawn showed me two very different ways of solving the same overall evolutionary problem: passing genes on to the next generation. The long-lasting bond between a capuchin and its infant and the salmon’s exhausting upstream journey, which ends in death are both reflections of effective strategies shaped by very different ecological pressures.
Neither is “better” than the other. A capuchin that puts most of its energy into raising just one baby and a salmon that lays thousands of eggs are both successful in their own ways, shaped by the environments that they evolved in. This shows just how diverse reproductive strategies can be, and how evolution shapes behaviour, including parental care, to help animals handle the challenges of their specific habitats.
About the author:
Nève Djevalikian-Couture is an MSc student in the Primatology and Interdisciplinary Environmental Studies (PIES) Lab at Concordia University and is a student member of QCBS. She is grateful for the support provided by QCBS and by Dr. Renata Ferreira, who hosted her fieldwork through the Federal University of Rio Grande do Norte in Brazil. She is fascinated by the natural world and all the wonderful creatures that share it with us.
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Souvignet, T., Giorgiadis, M., Drouet, B., & Quintard, B. (2019). *EAZA best practice guidelines for capuchin monkeys (Sapajus and Cebus sp.)* (1st ed.). European Association of Zoos and Aquaria. [https://doi.org/10.61024/BPG2019CapuchinMonkeys](https://doi.org/10.61024/BPG2019CapuchinMonkeys)
By Jigar Trivedi, PhD Candidate at McGill University
Thanks to the conference award granted by QCBS, I got the opportunity to attend and present my work at the annual Society of Molecular Biology and Evolution (SMBE) conference held in Beijing, China, from July 20 to 24, 2025.
I was initially anxious to attend due to my negligible proficiency in Mandarin and the media coverage about China. But my experience was nothing short of spectacular and uplifting. During these four days, I was surrounded by evolutionary biologists who think in genomes, mutations and models to address relevant questions in evolutionary biology.
Me upon arrival at the SMBE Conference hall in Beijing, China
On the first day, big questions filled the room about how molecular changes translate into evolutionary patterns and how major theories are tested using ever-increasing big data. I started my days with sheer excitement, only to feel like an imposter after following the work of brilliant academics around the world. One of the absolute highlights was the keynote by Dr. Dmitri Petrov from Stanford University, California. It was the kind of talk that made me rethink the “neutral” assumptions in my own sequence data.
The middle days were intense with parallel sessions, topics ranging from beyond the genome, ancient DNA, AI-integration for evolutionary models. Most meaningful moments happened outside the halls, as I presented my poster on the evolutionary maintenance of the mitochondrial genomes of Daphnia pulex. My work highlights that even under a stringent bottlenecking and minimizing selection in Daphnia for around a decade, their mitochondrial genome did not accumulate harmful mutations and loose function. My findings directly counters the argument of Muller’s Ratchet – i.e. mutational meltdown of mitochondrial genomes. I also got a chance to have conversations with notable names like Dr. Michael Lynch and Dr. Dmitri Petrov.
Me after a poster presentation session in the conference hall.
By the final day, I had a clearer sense of what kind of questions I want to keep asking myself in future research projects.
After the conference, I climbed the Great Wall of China during a very hot and humid day (as per Canadian standards). The wall felt like a physical metaphor for everything I had been thinking about all week—incremental effort, accumulation, endurance.
The Great Wall of China.
I came back from SMBE 2025 not energized, but steadied. I was reminded that progress—scientific or personal—is rarely dramatic. More often, it’s slow, cumulative and is gradual, just like the process of Evolution.
For any other grad students considering attending an international conference on the other side of the world in the future: Don’t hesitate, apply for the QCBS award, sleep on the plane, and get your poster/talk ready. The perspective you gain is worth every mile.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to finish my manuscript.
About the author:
Jigar Trivedi is a PhD Candidate at McGill University under the supervision of Dr. Melania Cristescu. His research focuses on the mutation accumulation in the mitochondrial and nuclear genomes using Daphnia pulex.
By Ty Colvin, PhD candidate at McGill University ; On behalf of the Quebec Student Subunit of the American Fisheries Society
This past summer the Quebec Student Subunit of the American Fisheries Society (AFS Quebec) held an aquatic biodiversity bioblitz on iNaturalist with support from the Quebec Centre for Biodiversity Science Champions Grant. We set out to “Blitz the Gap”, a Canada-wide BioBlitz initiative to fill in gaps in species data using iNaturalist. Our goal was to target the gaps in underrepresented freshwater diversity through the “Make a Splash” project (https://www.inaturalist.org/projects/blitz-the-gap-make-a-splash). Many species of aquatic invertebrates are underrepresented on iNaturalist as they can be difficult to find, photograph clearly, and identify to genus/species; however, they make up an incredible diversity of our freshwater species. Therefore, on iNaturalist, aquatic invertebrate species distributions are extremely limited, with even common taxa often having few observations on iNaturalist.
On July 19th, a crew of 13 AFS Quebec members set out to capture some of this diversity at two locations near the island of Montreal: Bray Island Park and Île Claude. These locations are both within the Ottawa River at its confluence with the St. Lawrence River. Despite being in close proximity to the city of Montreal, the small invertebrates we were seeking are rarely posted to iNaturalist. With our waders on and nets in hand, we went into the river and collected invertebrates from various substrates – insect larvae and nymphs from stones, fingernail clams and mussels from mud, and snails and hemipterans from weed beds. We set up our IDing station with tubs, magnifying glasses, and ID guides to sort through our specimens and identify them.
Sampling invertebrates in the Ottawa RiverField ID station
At both sites we found several net-spinning caddisflies (Polycentropodidae, Hydropsychidae, and Philopotamidae). These don’t build and carry around a cylindrical case like most other caddisflies, rather they spin nets of silk and set them into the current to catch drifting prey. Net-spinning caddisflies function much like underwater spiders, hiding in retreats at the base of their nets until something is caught, after which they will emerge to feed. Each species will spin a slightly different net – some are straight or curved-trumpet shaped tubes, while others are built within larger stick/stone retreats held together with silk (such as Macrostemum zebratum, see picture below).
Macrostemum zebratum larvae (above) and adult (below).
Another favourite specimen among the collectors were the water scorpions. Water scorpions are not actually scorpions, rather they are hemipteran insects with a breathing appendage (snorkel) in the back to let them sit just under the water’s surface waiting to seize prey with their raptorial claws.
Water Scorpion (Ranatra sp.)
In total, we made 155 observations of 75 species, and awarded the participants who made the most observations and saw the most taxa. It was our first BioBlitz event with AFS Quebec and it was a great success thanks to the Quebec Centre for Biodiversity Science and the Blitz the Gap Champions Grant!
About the author:
Ty Colvin is a PhD candidate at McGill University studying the impacts of invasive species on freshwater invertebrate biodiversity in the St. Lawrence River, supervised by Tony Ricciardi at McGill and Zofia Taranu at Environment and Climate Change Canada. He is also the Vice President of the Quebec Student Subunit of the American Fisheries Society, a student-run subunit with the goal of bringing together Quebec student researchers in aquatic sciences through social events, field-trips, and symposiums.
By Siena Blier, M.Sc. student at Concordia University; on behalf of the Ziter Urban Landscape Ecology Lab
“I’m learning about camping. I’m learning about gear. I’m learning about the importance of gear when camping.” – Siena (said while hanging soaking socks over a wood stove)
When the Ziter Urban Landscape Ecology (ZULE) lab received a Champion Grant to do a BioBlitz as part of Blitz the Gap, the team was giddy with excitement at the prospect of a lab camping trip. We chose to head to Forêt Ouareau, a gorgeous regional park just south of Mont-Tremblant national park. Trekking through the lush greens and browns of the trails, letting worries of defences and manuscripts slip off our shoulders and onto the rich soil of the forest floor beneath our hiking boots. Splashing into the glittering waters of a secluded lake, snapping pictures of salamanders (and maybe even a bear, or so hoped fearless M.Sc. student Mackenzie). Eating s’mores made over the cabin’s wood stove [there was a fire ban at the time] and falling into the kind of deep sleep only a day spent outdoors can produce. Although I shared this excitement, I was also a little worried that the family vacations I spent in our pop-up camper [I am embarrassed to admit this camper had a microwave, TV, and shower. I believe “glamping” is the appropriate term here.] had not prepared me for a stay in a cabin without access to electricity or running water. I went to sleep the night before our departure thinking maybe I’d learn a thing or two, and here I relay my hard-earned lessons.
Wearing a raincoat on a rainy camping trip is not “overdressing”
Research assistant and (thank God) camping expert Ashley pulled into the Pont Suspendu parking lot as a light rain began to fall on Lenny, Ashley’s mom’s Toyota Corolla. At this point, Ph.D. candidate Nicole and spider-identifier David revealed that they had not packed raincoats, despite the decidedly rainy forecast for the weekend. David felt this may be “overdressing”. Having some time before the rest of our crew arrived, Nicole and David fashioned raincoats out of garbage bags. The result was “roughing-it chic” (and rather reminiscent of a tight-budgeted cult).
Figure 1. Lenny (bottom) with David (left) and Nicole (right), who are utterly unprepared but admittedly resourceful for a lab camping trip in the rain. Photo credit: Siena Blier
Invest in an appropriate sleeping bag and hiking footwear.
The rest of our crew arrived, and under steady rain, we began splitting up gear for the three-kilometer hike up to the cabin. At this point I started noticing that each of my labmates had a small, cylindrical waterproof bag, similar in size and shape to a rolled-up hoodie. Sleeping bags. I, too, had diligently followed the packing list and brought a “sleeping bag” for the trip – a gorgeous turquoise, warm and soft, which had perfectly fulfilled its function on previous glamping trips. Trips where the sleeping bag only needed to be carried a few steps from the car to the tent. It turns out hiking three kilometers with your arms wrapped tightly around your mammoth of a sleeping bag, such that you can’t see where to place your feet, and having to re-adjust your grip every five seconds because your arms are slipping on the waterproof bag your supervisor mercifully gave you to cover your (did I mention?) mammoth of a sleeping bag is not the ideal way to start a camping trip. During this hike, I also realized that wearing my beautiful new running shoes was poor decision-making on my part [I had rationalized this by telling myself my flat feet would need as much support as possible during our hikes. I was, however, doing better than David, who chose to wear sneakers with holes in the soles]. At the start of our journey they were a flamboyant orange. By the end, they were a muddy brown.
Figure 2. ZULE lab members (more or less) ready for a three-kilometer hike to their campsite. Standing, from left to right: Johanna, David, Siena (with massive sleeping bag and flamboyant orange running shoes), Mackenzie, Nicole, Dr. Carly Ziter. Crouching, from left to right: Emma and Ashley. Photo credit: Carly Ziter
In a pinch, tzatziki can serve as a hot dog topping!
Thousands of footsteps and millions of raindrops later, we made it to our cabin. Hot dogs were on the menu, and to Mackenzie’s horror she had forgotten to pack the condiments – and thus the tzatziki-dog was born!
Bellies full, we decided to go out for some nighttime sampling. This earned us a salamander sighting– the first amphibian observation on iNaturalist for this region and a highlight of the camping trip for many.
We returned from our nighttime blitzing starry-eyed [thanks to the reduced light pollution far from the city…] and sleepy, ready to dream of adorable salamanders and friendly toads. Here, I must give some context regarding our cabin. It consisted of two floors (so spacious!) with two bunk beds, a woodstove and dining table on the first floor, and additional beds on the second floor. I was happy to be top bunk over Ashley (our camping expert, whom I was confident could chase away any nocturnal predators attacking our cabin). M.Sc. students Johanna, Emma, Nicole and Mackenzie set up in the loft. We added a few extra logs to the woodstove so we could stay toasty warm through the night – after all, we had spent most of our day soaked in rain. And with my newly acquired camping knowledge, I cleverly laid my wet socks on top of the woodstove so they would be perfectly dry in the morning. Snug like a bug in my massive sleeping bag (the one perk of the hell it put me through, I suppose), I breathed in deeply – oh, how I had missed the smell of a campfire!
Huh.
I didn’t remember the smell of smoke being this intense when I would fall asleep in our pop-up camper, but the fire had been outside, so this must be normal. I opened my eyes. The haze was surely just the effect of the campfire glow on the dust in the cabin, right? And was it just me, or was the delicious smokey smell getting a little… suffocating? It must just be me – I was still a novice, after all.
Shifting in the bed below me. Ashley padded across the floor. Fiddled with something by the woodstove. Came back to bed. I had no clue what she had done, but a feeling of safety wrapped around me like a weighted blanket. Our Katniss Everdeen had taken care of it. Now I could dream of adorable salamanders…
Shifting above me. The sound of something heavy being dragged on the floor, and then thump-thump-thump down the stairs. Oh, I see the shapes of Johanna and Mackenzie placing their mattresses on the floor by the fire. Interesting. And now back to the friendly toads…
Discussions at the breakfast table clarified the events of the night:
First, Ashley had gotten up to take my socks off the woodstove and stomped out the embers that had formed on them. They had literally cooked until they were crunchy and coal-black (when they were once soft and pristine white). Thanks Ashley! My bad!
Second, the heat produced by the extra logs added to the fire had turned the loft itself into an oven, cooking Johanna and Mackenzie in their sleeping bags like little pizza pockets!
So – no socks on the stove and no logs in the stove before bedtime.
Be wary of lacustrine parkour.
The morning of our second day, the sun peeked out long enough for us to hike to Lac Corbeau, where David saw a beautiful wolf spider and soon-to-be M.Sc. graduate Emma saw her life flash before her eyes as she fell into the water in the middle of skipping rocks (as in, jumping from rock to rock for the sake of data collection, or possibly for street cred – she hasn’t confirmed, but I’ll admit the scar on her knee is quite cool).
Figure 4. Emma engaging in lacustrine parkour at Lac Corbeau, at her own risk. Photo credit: Mackenzie Guest
The rest of our stay at Forêt Ouareau ran smoothly, except for a brief separation of the group on the way back down (some people hike faster than others!). Many cool iNaturalist observations were made, even more lessons were learned, and I greatly look forward to our next lab camping trip, where I can only be better prepared than I was this year.
Figure 5. Highlights from the ZULE lab Blitz the Gap camping trip at Forêt Ouareau. Left: Dragonfly exuvia (Siena’s highlight). Middle top: Spider (Nicole’s highlight). Middle bottom: Wolf spider (David’s highlight). Right: Northern St. John’s-wort (Mackenzie’s highlight).
Equal parts vinegar and water, a splash of dish soap, a toothbrush and sheer determination will get mud stains out of your beautiful new running shoes.
About the author:
Siena Blier is an M.Sc. student co-supervised by Dr. Carly Ziter (Concordia University; ZULE lab) and Dr. Barbara Frei (Environment and Climate Change Canada; The Birds & The Trees). Her research looks at the relationship between urban birds and greenspaces (or simply put, she likes to birdwatch and hug trees!).
Par Laura Jeanne Raymond-Léonard, étudiante au doctorat à l’UQÀM ; au nom du laboratoire de Tanya Handa
Il y a quelques semaines, dans un couloir du 1er étage du pavillon SB de l’UQÀM, à Montréal, il y avait des airs de fête. On pouvait entendre une musique se mélanger aux sons des rires, en plus de humer des effluves… d’éthanol 70 %! C’était le laboratoire de Tanya Handa qui réalisait un bioblitz sur la biodiversité des sols du Québec dans le cadre du défi Blitz the Gap, avec les soutiens financiers du CSBQ et matériel du département des sciences biologiques de l’UQÀM. Le but de ce défi pancanadien est de combler des lacunes de connaissances sur la biodiversité à l’échelle du pays en faisant le plus d’observations possibles sur iNaturalist.
La faune du sol englobe tous les animaux vivants dans le sol ou à sa surface et fait généralement référence aux invertébrés, incluant la microfaune (p. ex. nématodes), la mésofaune (p. ex. collemboles, acariens) et la macrofaune (p. ex. insectes, cloportes, mille-pattes, vers de terre). Échantillonner cette faune est généralement un processus laborieux et chronophage : bien que l’on puisse capturer à la vue certains organismes, il faut généralement poser des pièges fosses ou encore extraire la faune des carottes de sol pendant plusieurs jours. Par la suite, nous passons BEAUCOUP de temps à trier les organismes des débris se retrouvant dans les échantillons et à les identifier à l’espèce (à titre indicatif, certains acariens et collemboles font moins de 200 μm). Comme les étudiants gradués se spécialisent généralement sur un taxon en particulier, ce sont des milliers d’individus d’autres taxons qui sont triés par projet, mais qui ne sont jamais identifiés à l’espèce. Avec la bourse Champion du CSBQ, nous voulions saisir l’occasion de valoriser certains de ces échantillons oubliés et d’en faire un événement social amusant pour notre équipe. Comme il est difficile sur iNaturalist d’identifier la faune du sol jusqu’à l’espèce (même parfois à la famille!) à partir de photos prises sur le terrain, car il faut vérifier certaines caractéristiques morphologiques au binoculaire et/ou au microscope, nous étions d’autant plus motivées à faire un bioblitz de laboratoire!
Durant 3 jours (28 août, 29 août et 2 septembre 2025), nous avons tenté d’identifier le plus d’organismes possibles à partir d’échantillons de faune du sol venant d’un peu partout au Québec (de Montréal aux Îles-de-la-Madeleine) et d’une variété d’habitats (tourbière, forêt boréale, forêt tempérée, champ en agriculture biologique, parcs urbains, plantation expérimentale, plage, etc; Figures 1a et 1b). Certains de ces échantillons ont été collectés par les membres de notre équipe au cours de l’été 2025 en vue de l’événement alors que d’autres prenaient la poussière sur les étagères de notre laboratoire à l’UQÀM depuis plusieurs années. Lorsque les observations ne pouvaient pas être comptabilisées dans le projet Blitz the Gap : QCBS champions (car elles concernaient des organismes échantillonnés antérieurement au 1 juin 2025, date de début du défi), elles l’étaient au moins dans le projet QCBS : Quebec Soil Fauna afin que l’on puisse garder une trace de nos efforts d’identification (Figure 1b).
Figure 1. A) Organisation des échantillons par lieu d’échantillonnage et type d’habitat lors de l’événement. Les participants pouvaient choisir d’identifier ce qu’ils souhaitaient. B) Distribution géographique des observations du projet Blitz the Gap : Quebec Soil Fauna dans iNaturalist en date du 22 septembre 2025.
Armés de nos cafés matinaux et de muffins aux pommes cuisinés avec amour par Karine, les étudiantes de notre laboratoire se sont mises à la tâche, accompagnées de Pierre-Marc Brousseau (ancien doctorant du labo) et Christopher Fares Gaffary (étudiant à l’UdeM), tous deux passionnés de myriapodes (incluant les cent-pattes, mille-pattes et symphiles; Figures 2 et 3).Ils ont pu nous initier à l’identification de ceux-ci (de même que certains coléoptères!) et c’est grâce à leur précieuse aide que nous avons pu observer au total 18 espèces de myriapodes. Ce fût fascinant de découvrir ces « gros » organismes, comme nous sommes généralement spécialisées sur la plus petite faune (collemboles et acariens). En effet, nous avons profité de cette occasion pour nous initier à l’identification de taxons avec lesquels nous ne sommes pas habituées à travailler. C’était un réel plaisir de collaborer entre nous, quelle belle occasion d’apprentissage!
Figure 2. Participants au bioblitz (de gauche à droite, en haut : Karine Manoli, Pierre-Marc Brousseau, Karima Lafore, Laura Jeanne Raymond-Léonard, en bas : Nat Kennedy, Essivi Gagnon Koudji, Tanya Handa). Mention également à Christopher à la caméra, qui n’est pas sur la photo.Figure 3. Ambiance au laboratoire lors du bioblitz. Tout le monde avait son propre microscope, son binoculaire et un dispositif pour prendre des photos sur ceux-ci.
En trois jours, nous avons observés 52 espèces pour 69 observations : nous devions prendre plusieurs photos de chaque individu afin de permettre à autrui de confirmer nos ID sur iNaturalist (p.ex. les dents du coxosternum forcipulaire des cent-pattes; Figure 4). À cela s’additionne nos observations sur le terrain au cours de l’été, portant notre total à 155 espèces pour 315 observations dans notre projet Blitz the Gap : Quebec Soil Fauna.
Figure 4.Lithobius forficatus et l’un des critères permettant de le différencier des autres espèces similaires : il y a 5+5 à 7+8 dents sur son coxosternum forcipulaire. Le “+” fait référence à chaque côté du corps.
De plus, nous avons fait une collaboration avec la Coop la Charrette, une ferme maraîchère biologique à St-Élie-de-Caxton en Mauricie (dont plusieurs membres ont l’UQÀM pour alma mater). Ceux-ci avaient posé des pièges fosses au courant de l’été, nous avons trié et identifié leur contenu durant le bioblitz tout en prenant le temps de prendre des belles photos qu’ils comptent bien mettre de l’avant à la ferme (Figure 5).
Figure 5. Faune du sol collectée dans un piège fosse à la fin août 2025 (13 jours de trappe) dans un champ de tagètes (fleurs) à la Coop la Charrette (St-Élie-de-Caxton, Mauricie).
Karima, qui a entamé sa maîtrise sur les collemboles cette année, a pu identifier ses premiers spécimens (et pas n’importe lesquels!) en se familiarisant avec la clé d’identification que nous utilisons au laboratoire. Elle a entre-autres identifié deux Appendisotoma dubia et un Friesea pentacantha, provenant d’échantillons de 2024 collectés à Pike River (Montérégie), ce qui constitue respectivement des premières mentions pour le Canada et le Québec selon la plus récente liste d’espèces publiée (Babenko et al. 2019; Figures 6a et 6b). De surcroît, ces 2 espèces n’avaient jamais été enregistrées dans iNaturalist encore, quelle belle surprise! Laura a également fait une première observation sur iNaturalist avec un Xenylla welchi, ce qui constitue également une première mention pour le Québec (Babenko et al. 2019) : elle a trouvé plusieurs individus dans un échantillon de 2025 provenant d’un champ de tagètes à la Coop la Charrette (Figures 5c et 6c). Elle a aussi observé Sinella curviseta d’un échantillon de 2023 provenant d’un parc de Montréal; une nouvelle mention pour le Québec (Babenko et al. 2019) et une première observation au Canada sur iNaturalist (Figure 6d). Ces trouvailles soulignent bien à quel point la faune du sol est largement sous-documentée si l’on arrive à faire de telles premières mentions/observations avec un si faible effort d’identification!
Figure 6. Des collemboles pour lesquels nous avons des premières mentions pour le Québec, le Canada (selon Babenko et al. 2019) et/ou iNaturalist A) Appendisotoma dubia B) Friesea pentacantha C) Xenylla welchi D) Sinella curviseta
Enfin au-delà des organismes que nous avons identifiés lors du bioblitz, certains membres de notre équipe se sont prêtés au jeu durant tout l’été en prenant le temps de documenter la biodiversité sur iNaturalist, que ce soit sur le terrain, au labo ou en vacances. C’est le cas de Nat, Laura et Karine qui ont ajouté ensemble 964 observations et observé respectivement 191, 331 et 198 espèces (en date du 25 septembre 2025). Si celles-ci ne sont pas toutes reliées aux sols, elles concernent majoritairement des invertébrés. Nos petits coups de cœur en dehors de la faune du sol ? Un joli Corythucha sp. et ses « ailes de dentelle » ainsi que le fameux criquet endémique des Îles-de-la-Madeleine Melanoplus madeleineae étant désignée comme une espèce préoccupante par le COSEPAC (Figure 7).
Figure 7. A) Corythucha sp. et B) Melanoplus madeleineae, deux coups de coeur observés cet été, même si ce n’était pas en lien avec la faune du sol.
Référence: Babenko, A., Stebaeva, S., & Turnbull, M. S. (2019). An updated checklist of Canadian and Alaskan Collembola. Zootaxa, 4592(1), 1-125.
À propos de l’auteure et de son équipe:
Laura Jeanne Raymond-Léonard est membre du laboratoire de Tanya Handa à l’UQÀM et réalise un doctorat pour comprendre les effets de nos pratiques de gestion des infrastructures vertes sur la biodiversité des sols urbains. Ses collègues et elle partagent un intérêt commun pour les «bibittes», donc conséquemment passent beaucoup de leur temps au binoculaire et au microscope à écouter des balados.
