The Yucca Insect Community

I am trying something new for this blog post. The last few weeks I have been paying close attention to yucca plants, especially the flowers, and taking many photos of the various insects (and spiders). We have a trio of plants in our front yard in Leavenworth, Kansas, USA, but I also examined plants in Okawville, Illinois, and one wild plant in eastern Missouri.

A tumbling flower beetle (top), and false flower beetle, nibble on pollen inside a yucca flower.

I created an album in my Flickr account here, with captions explaining most interactions and behaviors that I observed and documented. I am hereby directing you there to peruse the photos. I plan to keep adding photos to it, as I have many from last year that I have not yet uploaded even to my computer. Plus, there are a few more from Colorado. I thought I wrote an extensive blog post about yucca moths several years ago, but I can't find it if so.

Please let me know if this redirect is acceptable to you. There are other such communities of insects that might be easier to document this way, but if I receive negative feedback I won't repeat this experiment. Enjoy your summer!

Guest Post: "Friend or Foe?"

by Caity Judd

Caity Judd is one of those people who I put in the category of “best friends I haven’t met in person yet.” She is curious, adventurous, and a tireless advocate for all things unsung and underappreciated, including fellow humans. The following is a post she made to a Facebook group that we both subscribe to. It is so eloquent and passionate that I asked if I could publish it here as a guest post. I am grateful that she agreed. I will have a brief postscript at the end….

Sphinx moth caterpillars, like this Manduca rustica, consume a LOT of foliage; but they turn into lovely moths which pollinate flowers that bloom at night.

”I want to take a minute to talk about how we think about our exoskeleton-wearing neighbors. People really like to label things and put things in boxes. I get it. I love labeling things and putting things in boxes. That’s part of why I like the ID/taxonomy part of entomology and arachnology so much. But sometimes the boxes we try to put things in are so black and white that they end up missing any nuance about very complicated situations.

‘Friend or foe?’ is one such example. There are very few examples of any kind of animal (including humans) that are all-beneficial or only problematic. Even if we only look at animals who have been dubbed ‘invasive’ in an area, if you look at how that animal exists within its home range ecology, things get complicated again. So, maybe it’s fair to say that spotted lanternflies or emerald ash borers are “foe” outside of their native range. But the vast majority of animals can’t be wrapped up neatly into those labels, even within a certain range.

Did you know that the particular species of ladybugs, mantises, and honey bees that most US gardeners seem to believe are “friends” aren’t from here? They all have negative impacts on local ecologies when introduced to places they don’t come from. Are they ‘friend’ just because they are useful to us? They’re really not even as useful as people seem to largely believe; adult ladybugs and mantises often don’t stick around long enough to serve their utility for the person who introduced them. The idea that honey bees are solely responsible for pollinating food crops is hogwash. Instead, these animals displace their native counterparts, throwing off the balance even further.

’Friend’ and ‘foe’ are labels that artificially limit your understanding of the interactions of plants and animals in a geographic area. There’s nothing wrong with fondly calling something you happen to like ‘friend’; that’s different than trying to smush everything into a one-or-the other category. Instead of asking ‘friend or foe,’ perhaps we should attempt better, more complete understanding, by asking ‘how does this animal interact with the environment around it?’

If you try that route, you may learn that aphids, while they do drink your plants’ juices, are also hosts for tiny little parasitoid wasps who rely on aphids to continue their own life cycles, and act as a natural control for their numbers. You may learn that while we all love ourselves a house centipede, they’re not actually native in the U.S. You may learn that termites play an immensely important role in breaking down wood fiber, and feed all sorts of insectivorous animals. You might learn that dragonfly naiads and mayfly nymphs are good indicators of unpolluted water. You might learn about ants’ incredible seed-dispersing capabilities. The natural world, even the one in your backyard, has so much richness and complexity to be discovered, if only we don’t put limits on our curiosity in the first place.”

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As I mentioned previously, Caity is a fierce protector of persecuted human demographics as well, and I think it is important to note that we too frequently extend this “friend or enemy” mindset to fellow Homo sapiens. We are told that immigrants and refugees are “pests” in a manner of speaking because “they take our jobs.” Nonsense. We do not own resources of any kind, we share them. The more we frame our lives that way, the more peacefully we can coexist and solve the larger problems of the day, like climate change and species extinctions.

Thanks again, Caity, for a wonderful summary of how we can approach the natural world in our yards, gardens, and on our doorstep.

What the Insects Have Taught Me

A scientific education teaches you not to be anthropomorphic: Do not assign human emotions and sentiments and purposefulness to non-human animals. Be dispassionate in your observations, take phenomena at face value. This is a tactic for eliminating bias, and is useful in proper documentation, but it can rob you of a more fulfilling experience of the natural world. Thankfully, there is room for both a distant and intimate approach, perhaps no better exemplified than by the work of The Bug Chicks. I can certainly appreciate the lessons the world of insects, spiders, and other arthropods have already taught me.

A female dance fly, Rhamphomyia longicauda, from Wisconsin

Beauty has infinite definitions. An organism that is “ugly” to one person is a magnificent example of adaptation to another human. Whether you believe in evolution or creationism, you should have reverence and respect for all of nature. Sure, there are animals I do not particularly like, but I recognize the importance of their roles. Most of my biases have been created by the media anyway, which is not the animal’s fault.

A female Eastern Dobsonfly, Corydalus cornutus, guarding her eggs in Kansas

Indeed, diversity is the very essence of life, the soul of the planet. It is the very foundation of ecosystems and biospheres. If you begin to undermine that, believe that our species can successfully “manage” nature without all the requisite parts, then you are on a slippery slope guaranteed to end in cataclysmic tragedy at some tipping point you did not see coming.

We are more rigid in our human ideologies than invertebrates are inflexible in their instincts.

Metamorphosis can be a metaphor, but a lot can go wrong. It can take longer than expected. It may require a period of diapause, emphasis on “pause.” Our personal evolution comes only through learning, expansion of our comfort zones, shedding of destructive habits, agreeing to the assumption of risk, and recognizing our personal responsibilities. Unlike insects, which undergo a segregated set of life stages, we frequently revert to old behaviors that we should have outgrown, or we fail to advance at all. We have to forgive ourselves, and each other, in those events. There is no arrival, no final destination that defines individual human success.

A tattered male Four-spotted Skimmer, Libellula quadrimaculata, in Wisconsin

Handicaps are not the same as limitations. A grasshopper’s missing leg barely slows it down. Tattered wings do not ground a butterfly. Resilience, persistence, and an indefatigable relentlessness is the character of most insects. We can learn a great deal from such examples, use them as inspiration for our own recovery from physical or emotional trauma.

Perhaps the most revealing and disappointing conclusion I have reached is this: We are more rigid in our human ideologies than invertebrates are inflexible in their instincts. There is no such thing as a dumb insect. Their ability to solve novel problems and bend their innate programming never ceases to amaze me. They make up for any perceived intellectual deficits through sharper use of their senses and reflexes. Meanwhile, we cling to outdated, self-limiting, negative, hateful, and oppressive social constructs that prevent positive growth in our societies and civilizations. In many ways, we are more “primitive” than those animals without backbones.

The small can triumph over the bully.

We have only to change our minds to accommodate challenges and overcome obstacles. Other animals cannot adapt as quickly because they are designed for specific niches and habitats, confined to certain foods, and/or otherwise limited by their physical bodies. Yes, evolution happens, but at a slower rate than our brains (should) work. This is why protecting biodiversity is so critical. Rapid change is something Homo sapiens can adapt to, but not every other species.

Deer fly, Chrysops sp. biting me in Wisconsin

We are exceptional at creating non-existent enemies we call “pests.” With the possible exception of lice and bed bugs, there is no such thing as a pest. It is a term we assign to any other species we perceive as a competitor for “our” resources. We must start recognizing resources as entities that are shared with other species, and alter our approach to their extraction, growth, use, and/or disposal. Nature always pairs scale with complexity. Vast habitats are complex. Monocultural agriculture is not. Tree farms are not the same as forests.

The most heartening lesson insects can teach us is that the small can triumph over the bully. You need only look at all of our failed efforts to eradicate mosquitoes, locusts, and other insects for inspiration in your own fight for justice, equality, and human rights. Our so-called minority populations, the underprivileged, the underserved, underemployed, and undervalued sectors of humanity will get their due. The sooner that happens, the better for all of us. The economy is just another ecosystem, built on diversity, that functions only when currency flows like energy to all its living parts.

My Kind of Fourth of July

While most folks enjoy fireworks spectacles and flag-waving on Independence Day here in the United States, I would rather turn on our backyard blacklight and see what comes to visit. The neighbors did have some surprisingly professional-looking explosions, albeit they are illegal here in the city of Colorado Springs. I did my best to tune-out the loud noise.

Ruddy-winged Dart, Euxoa mimallonis

The U.S. was founded by immigrants, and has prospered from ethnic, racial, and cultural diversity, though we seem to frown on "minorities" in our present political climate. Here under my ultraviolet light, I see plenty of biological diversity, a melting-pot of insects that makes the ecosystem run even more efficiently than capitalism fuels our economy. One cannot help but observe the similarities, though the niches in ecosystems are filled by a variety of species while niches in the economy are occupied by only one: Homo sapiens.

White miller caddisfly, Nectopsyche sp.

Nature does not recognize villains or criminals or classes or any other structure relevant to our human societies. Every species is equal, adapting as it is able to constantly-changing conditions of climate, habitat, and competition from other species. Yes, some immigrant insects do compete with native species for the same "job" in the ecosystem, that much is obvious.

Damsel bug, Nabis sp., with leafhopper prey

While some insects do come to the blacklight to prey on other insects, most coexist peacefully under the purple glow. Occasionally one will blunder into another, causing both animals to run erratically or fly abruptly, only to quickly settle again without armed conflict or undue protest. Still other insects make a brief appearance, flirting with my desire to take their picture. Sometimes I get the shot, often I do not.

Crambid moth, Pyrausta insequalis

Every color of the rainbow has arrived. White is among the rarest. There is green, red, yellow, orange, black, brown....There are plain, monochrome bugs, and those with patterns too intricate to imagine. The moths often lose their colors as the night wears on, the scales on their wings lost with each wingbeat, each collision with the abrasive netting protecting the blacklight, each collision with another insect. It does not hamper their flight in the least.

Ant-mimicking plant bug, Pilophorus sp.

This one night, our celebration of America's birthday, may also be an insect's final fling, its days as an adult all too brief, just long enough to find a mate and reproduce. Some moths flourish for only a week at most, sometimes even more briefly. They have spent the bulk of their lives as caterpillars, larvae that are feeding-and-growing machines. At the end of that worm-like stage they transform into the pupa. Apparently inert on the outside, the pupa is a frenzy of internal reorganization as cells are re-purposed, some genes are turned off, and other genes turned on. It is a microcosm of a rapidly-changing economy with employees re-trained, whole new industries born, with all the promise of positive change each would suggest.

Delphacid planthopper, Bostaera nasuta

Has my blacklight beacon derailed the destinies of these insects? Some will surely be diverted from their procreative goals, from their foraging missions if they feed as adults. I make a point of turning the light off before I, myself, turn in, to give the insects a chance to resume their lives without distraction, though in a city full of lights they may well end up concentrated at the neighbor's porch light, or a streetlight up the boulevard. It is a hazard of urban living for those insects that reside in cities.

Green lacewing, family Chrysopidae

At last the auditory noise has abated, and the attractiveness of the blacklight has reached a point of diminishing returns. I must sleep, and it will only be four or five hours until the sun peeks over the eastern horizon to put an end to the nocturnal adventures of these tiny arthropods. The summer days are long, the nights brief, and insects must make the most of that narrow window of darkness. The day shift will begin, and niches will transfer ownership accordingly. There is no timecard to punch, but there are no holidays, either, no middle management, just life, pulsing as it will.

An Insect "State of the Summer" Report

Here in Colorado Springs, Colorado, and elsewhere in the state, it has been anything but a normal summer. Not that there is any such thing as "usual" in this age of aridification and climate change, of course. What follows are personal, anecdotal observations related to weather, insect diversity, and insect abundance so far this season.

Mammatus clouds signal impending hail

Weather

There are only three words needed to describe the weather this summer: Hot, dry, and stormy. We have had recent stretches of ninety-plus degree days, well above the expected average. The excessive heat has been punctuated by severe thunderstorms. At our home, we have had more hail events this year than in the five-plus previous years that I have lived here....and we were lucky. One major hail storm dumped baseball-sized ice balls on the city of Fountain, just a few miles down the highway from Colorado Springs. Repairs to vehicles and roofs and other damaged property will take months and cost many thousands of dollars.

Accumulated hail in our backyard today!

Beyond the city, at least fifteen wildfires have burned thousands of acres of forest and grassland, rendering wildlife habitat and recreational destinations unfit for man or beast for years to come. That does not even address the human dwellings and other structures that were lost in the blazes. Now, heavy rains like we had at our home today will cause flash flooding over the burn scars, and lead to water damage at the bottom of slopes.

Aristotelia elegantella, a tiny twirler moth new to our yard

Insect Diversity

Insect diversity appears....relatively stable, though it is difficult to assess for reasons that will become clear later in this story. Interestingly, every time I turn on our backyard blacklight I seem to attract some species new to me and new to our growing "home list" of animal organisms that now exceeds 440 taxa (levels of classification from Kingdom to species and every level in between). I have managed to excite even seasoned moth experts with some of the nocturnal Lepidoptera that are turning up. We have even had a pine sawyer (Monochamus clamator) and bark beetles (Dendroctonus sp.) come to the blacklight. I suspect someone brought firewood down out of the mountains and the beetles are emerging from it.

Spotted Pine Sawyer, Monochamus clamator

Insect Abundance

Numbers of individual insects are way down. I have to work hard just to find species normally overwhelmingly present. It is this situation that has made assessing diversity more difficult. It is disturbing to note how few insects there are visiting wildflowers, but wildflowers are fewer and farther in between, too, smaller in size and lower-growing than usual, making it difficult to detect them, let alone any pollinators. Yellow Sweet Clover, Melilotus officinalis, an exotic invasive that is now well-established throughout the U.S., and its relative White Sweet Clover, are overwhelmingly abundant this year. They normally attract plenty of pollinators, but I find almost none.

Overwhelming parasitic mite load on Melanoplus sp. grasshopper

Another worrisome observation is that the few arthropods doing well are mostly parasites of other arthropods. Parasitic mite loads on grasshoppers are in some instances frighteningly high. Bee flies are doing well but their hosts, solitary wasps and bees among others, are not prospering. Cuckoo wasps and cuckoo bees are at about average density and distribution.

Bee flies, like this Poecilanthrax arethusa, seem to be doing fine

Even the European Paper Wasps nesting on our back gate have failed to produce more than about two new workers the entire summer so far. That is shocking since they are among the most successful of social predatory wasps.

The New Normal?

Should this year be the beginning of a trend, it would be devastating. Our drought-stricken landscape needs to be watered with historically normal rain patterns or another Dust Bowl will be upon us, threatening not only wildlife diversity but human sustenance in the form of crops and livestock. The forest wilderness cannot take further fragmentation if wildlife populations are to endure, especially large predators that require vast individual territories for hunting and rearing offspring. We need to start treating our own properties as potential wildlife habitat, planting with native vegetation. It may be that we also need to assume some degree of latitudinal climate change and plan accordingly, adopting drought-resistant cultivars into our landscaping.

Our backyard milkweed garden ravaged by today's hail

What are you observing where you live? Share your stories and concerns and possible solutions. This blog is a community built by all of you, please speak up.

Pollinator Drones Can Buzz Off

It has just been revealed to the media that Walmart filed an application on March 8 for a patent on miniature drones designed to pollinate crops grown by the retail giant for sale in its grocery stores. The company cited evidence of declines in bee populations and the need to supplement the pollination services provided by insects. It is the opinion of this writer and entomologist that this high tech response to a very serious organic and complex ecosystem problem is inappropriate, and troubling in many ways.

© Dave Simonds and Economist.comDrones are not alive

The idea of using tiny drones to accomplish the pollination of flowers, at least in agricultural systems, is nothing new. The Japanese built drones specifically for the cross-pollination of lilies. The videos of the machines in action only served to expose how clumsy and blundering they are compared to the direct and delicate maneuvers of bees. It seemed miraculous that the flower parts were not seriously damaged by the bulky and bouncy, propeller-driven craft.

Why are we so eager to replace complex living organisms with feeble facsimiles manufactured in robotics labs? Have we decided that it is acceptable to consider this as a viable “solution” to a much larger problem? I do not recall casting a vote for this myself. How long will we tolerate businesses and corporations to dictate the level of biodiversity we can do without? This is why science is getting an increasingly bad rap. Scientists are fast becoming beholden to investors, shareholders, and other private interests, and less accountable to the public. Independent, transparent, and government-sponsored research may soon be a thing of the past, if it is not so already.

The implied definition of “bee” in this particular instance is the Western Honey Bee, Apis mellifera. If that is not the case, then Walmart needs to speak up; but in the course of clarification, Walmart may expose a willingness to consider all solitary and native bee species as expendable, as long as we are able to pollinate the crops that feed us. Wildflowers and trees and shrubs are a non-issue in this scenario. They are not viewed as anything necessary to human civilization or financial prosperity. Emphasis on prosperity, as the business world tends to equate civilization with exponential fiscal growth.

Drones are not cute and fuzzy

Might it be cheaper to employ drones instead of honey bees? Maybe. Apiculture is itself an industry, with attendant expenses that are passed on to the customer. Many large-scale beekeeping enterprises involve the transcontinental movement of hives to fields and orchards where they are needed to effect pollination of almonds and other crops. This is not a cheap endeavor, and for all I know, some accountant has crunched the numbers for Walmart and declared that bees are inferior to drones from a simple cost-benefit analysis.

Replacing bees with machines cheapens our humanity in many other ways, though. There is no substitute for interactions with other living organisms, though we seem hell-bent on trying to make it so. We erect all manner of filters between ourselves and other humans, even. I am beginning to feel the need to apologize that you are reading this message from a static screen instead of hearing it from my lips, in person, with all the nuances of annunciation and emphasis, all the facial expressions that amplify my concern.

Drones are not specialized like this squash bee to pollinate specific kinds of flowers

Sam Walton’s heirs may literally prosper with every effort to simplify their business, and the lives of their customers, but I prosper most in the chaos that is wild nature. My psyche requires that if I am to be civil to my fellow man. A vast field of corn, uninterrupted by hedgerows, windbreaks of trees, or other hints of what used to be there, is a vast wasteland to my mind and soul. Indeed, farming practices that enhance biodiversity can be cost-saving, too. The more wild, unmanaged pollinators, the more predatory and parasitic insects, the more birds, the more wildflowers (you may call them “weeds”), the less need for fertilizers, herbicides, pesticides, and other chemical dependencies. The better state of mind of the farmer, too, the more adventures their children can have exploring the acres.

I could drone on, but you get the point. We can continue to impoverish our lives by distancing ourselves from nature, or we can choose to embrace it, despite its unpredictability. The future is in the latter approach. The former has no future.

Ok, Save Some Bugs

A couple weeks ago I ran a post suggesting that efforts to save individual insects often is a waste of time, or at least was a misplaced investment of one's energies. Thanks to thoughtful and polite comments here and in social media, it is clear that some clarification is in order, and some exceptions, perhaps.

Go ahead and save the Monarchs....

I will stand by my assertion that rescuing individual insects is largely an ineffective strategy; but I would be a lot less animated about it were it not for this persistent notion that we can choose which species are worthy of salvation. That is not how Nature works. At the level of ecosystems and the biosphere, we have to save everybody (read "species") in order to save anybody. Recent news reports like this one in the New York Times, citing scientific studies, point to that very fact.

....but then save the Milkweed Bugs, too....

A perfect case making my point for the wrong way to act is the person who plants milkweed in their garden and then insists it be for "pollinators and Monarchs only." Therefore, competing milkweed bugs and milkweed beetles must be banished, killed on sight in fact. Really? Look at a wild stand of milkweed and you will see an entire ecosystem of pollinators, herbivores, predators, and parasites functioning exactly as they should, complementing each other's roles, with adequate survivorship of all parties. Listen, if you have a full complement of players in your yard's milkweed patch, then you are doing everything right! Relax. Neglect is often the best thing you can do once you get a native plant garden going.

....and also the Milkweed Beetles

We need more people to stand up for species that are "ugly," suffer from stereotypes and slander in the media, or languish in obscurity. It is those behind-the-scenes species that are doing the real work of keeping the biosphere spinning. Were it not for dung beetles and termites, we would already be buried by debris and animal waste at a scale that bacteria could not begin to attack. The processes of decay would be halted.

Dung beetles are a vital natural clean-up crew

Insects are the foundation of the food web, without which all other organisms would perish in a domino effect. If you like to fish, then you need aquatic insects. If you are a birder, you can thank virtually all insects for feeding our fine feathered friends.

The point is that all organisms have value, though it may not be obvious, or directly relevant to your everyday life. Our own species has been shaped over the eons by our interactions with other forms of life, and that will always be the case. It can continue to be a positive thing, if we keep all the pieces, or an apocalyptic disaster if we continue in our hubris as a species that we know best how to manage the wild world.

Grasshoppers and other insects feed the birds!

Even if you only value organisms for what they can do for us, nobody knows if the next miracle medicine could come from some beast we currently loathe. Increasingly, bioprospecting for pharmaceuticals has revealed just how rich the insect world is in chemical compounds that might one day cure our worst ills. We do not know what potential we are losing when we pave over, plow under, and deforest natural ecosystems.

You want to save something, hands on? Volunteer for your state or local wildlife agencies, zoos, and other institutions that are trying to resurrect truly endangered species like the American Burying Beetle, Salt Creek Tiger Beetle, Karner Blue butterfly, and other imperiled species you probably have never heard of. Their populations are at such a low level that saving individual specimens really is critical.

Even yellowjackets are valuable pollinators, and predators of pests

The late, great entomologist Howard Evans wrote in his classic book Life on a Little Known Planet: "I happen to like yellowjackets; do I not have a right to yellowjackets if my neighbor has a right to a cat?" He continues "If freedom means anything at all, it means the right to choose one's environment and one's friends." Ladies and gentlemen, I urge you to choose wisely.

White Prairie Clover: An Awesome Blossom

I am not a botanist by any stretch of the imagination, but I am pretty sure that the insect magnets in the shortgrass prairie field up the hill from my home here in Colorado Springs, Colorado, are White Prairie Clover, Dalea candida. What follows is a sampling of the many bees, wasps, butterflies, flies, and other insects that come to the flowers of this plant; and a little information on Dalea in general. Much of the pollinator enhancement literature touts Purple Prairie Clover, D. purpurea, so one has to dive deeper.

A cuckoo bee, Nomada sp., forages while a male sweat bee, Lasioglossum sp., approaches

Prairie clovers are in the pea family Fabaceae. White Prairie Clover in Colorado occurs from 3,400-7,200 feet in elevation, and blooms from June to August. It is a low-growing plant, flowers on stalks up to two feet tall, but the ones I see are no more than one foot tall and sometimes difficult to discern among the tall grasses, cacti, and yucca they share the prairie habitat with. This species is widespread from the Front Range across the Great Plains, north to Saskatchewan and Wisconsin, and as far east as Tennessee, Georgia, and South Carolina.

Common Checkered-skipper, Pyrgus communis

The flowers are arranged in a cone, and bloom from the bottom to the top. The cycle can last up to a month, providing insects with pollen and nectar over a longer period than most flowers, and often at a time when few other plants are blooming. The down side to this plant, from the perspective of the photographer/entomologist is that insects quickly move to the side of the flower opposite the photographer, where they are hidden from view, then fly to another florescence and repeat. I missed a good number of opportunities because insects move across the flowers so speedily.

Male Hunt's Bumble Bee, Bombus huntii

Bees of all stripes seem to enjoy White Prairie Clover, and male bees may visit not only for nectar but for mating opportunities with foraging females. I saw far more male sweat bees, Lasioglossum (subgenus Dialictus), for example, than I did females. Even male bees can be sufficiently hairy enough to perform pollination services, even though they are not gathering pollen to feed to offspring. This is especially true for bumble bees and longhorned bees.

Sweat bee, family Halictidae

Female mining bee, Calliopsis sp.

Male longhorned bee, tribe Eucerini, family Apidae

Cuckoo bee, Triepeolus sp.

A second species of Triepeolus

Butterflies visit the flowers, too, mostly for nectar, but the caterpillar stage of some species feeds on the foliage of Dalea. This is the case for the Southern Dogface, a rather scarce species here in Colorado. In addition to the butterflies shown here, I also spotted a Variegated Fritillary making a brief stop on a blossom.

A "crescent" butterfly, Phyciodes sp.

Two Reakirt's Blues, Echinargus isola

At least one moth visited White Prairie Clover during my two separate observations: the Jaguar Flower Moth, Schinia jaguarina.

Jaguar Flower Moth, Schinia jaguarina

Wasps were highly diverse and plentiful visitors, but made some of the shortest refueling stops of all the insects observed.

Great Golden Digger wasp, Sphex ichneumoneus

Thread-waisted wasp, Ammophila pictipennis

Female Ammophila procera

Male Ammophila procera

Ammophila ferruginosa

Black & Yellow Mud Dauber, Sceliphron caementarium

Male sand wasp, Bembix sp.

Male beetle-killer wasp, Cerceris sp.

Male beewolf wasp, Philanthus ventilabris

Male thynnid wasp, Myzinum sp.

Female thynnid wasp, Myzinum sp.

Cuckoo sand wasp, Stizoides renicinctus

Flowers that are attractive to pollinators are also attractive to their predators and parasites, and that was certainly obvious during my watch periods. The bee assassin, Apiomerus sp., was somewhat surprising because the bug is so conspicuous atop such a small flower. I suspect it was having little or no success. Meanwhile, the odd, cream-colored ambush bug, Phymata sp., could achieve proper concealment, even to the point that I recall seeing only one when there were surely many.

Bee assassin bug, Apiomerus sp.

Thick-headed flies accost bees or wasps in mid-air and ram an egg between the victim's abdominal plates. The fly larva that hatches then feeds as an internal parasite. This often kills the host, but not always.

Thick-headed fly, Zodion sp.

Thick-headed fly, Physocephala sp.

My personal experience is that white flowers, or at least pale flowers, attract a far greater diversity of insects than red, blue, or purple flowers, and even more than yellow flowers in some cases. It is puzzling to me that few pollinator advocates bother to reveal that fact. Maybe because everything is bee- and butterfly-centered, and still color-intensive in the landscaping sense, white flowers get short shrift in recommendations for the garden.

Grasshopper wasp, Prionyx atratus or Prionyx subatratus

It may be worth it to harvest seeds from wild plants, but please do not dig up mature White Prairie Clover. The plant has a deep taproot. One may also wish to consult their state's Native Plant Society for potential sources of seed. The plant flourishes in full sun and dry soils, requiring only a medium quantity of water.

Green-eyed wasp, Tachytes sp.

I will try and produce more floral-themed, pollinator-rich posts in the future to help readers in making landscaping decisions that support native plants as opposed to exotic ornamentals and inappropriate cultivars. Feel free to make suggestions as to additional resources.

Mason wasp, Euodynerus sp.

Sources: Holm, Heather. 2017. Bees: An Identification Guide and Native Plant Forage Guide. Minnetonka, Minnesota: Pollination Press LLC. 224 pp. Useful mostly for Upper Midwest U.S.
Mader, Eric, et al. 2011. Attracting Native Pollinators. North Adams, Massachusetts: Storey Publishing. 372 pp. A Xerces Society guide.
EasternColoradoWildflowers
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