BugGuide for the Win!

A big thank you and shout out to the folks at BugGuide.net for their help in identifying so many of the little beasties that I see in my yard and gardens! 

Last week was a perfect case in point.  I saw a large black bee nectaring on swamp milkweed from my kitchen window and I grabbed the camera to get a few photographs.  This insect was new to me,  but it reminded me of a bee that had been recently talked about and shared in a Facebook group about pollinators.  So I looked up the two-spotted longhorned bee, the species in question, and it looked good...but maybe just a little different from what I was seeing. 

The abdominal spots were smaller in my individual than in many of the photos of the two-spotted longhorned bee in BugGuide and the long hairs on the legs of my individual were dark, not light, but otherwise it looked like a reasonably good match.  There are really a limited number of large black bees it could have been, excluding bumble bees, which this wasn't.  So I tentatively identified my photos and submitted them as an ID request.

Within a day, Dr. John Ascher had identified my specimen as a southern carpenter bee (Xylocopa micans), a species that I was totally unfamiliar with and had never even considered. I actually thought that the eastern carpenter bee (Xylocopa virginica) was the only large carpenter bee in our area so I hadn't thought to look more closely at carpenter bees.

According to the brief research I did, there is not much known about the life cycle of the southern carpenter bee.  A fact sheet from the University of Florida reports that the only nests that have been reported were in small branches of Ligustrum (1958) and red maple (1975), about 1-1.5 m above the ground.  Apparently this species is NOT an economic problem, as the eastern carpenter bee can be.

Was this an earth shattering identification?  No.  But the only other way I know to really identify many of the insects I photograph, including this one, would be to catch them and kill them, then look at them under magnification, using keys.  While that is certainly the classic way to deal with insect identification, I am gardening on less than 0.4 acre in the middle of a suburban development where new assaults seem to occur daily against the wildlife present.  Trees and shrubs are cut down and replaced with chemical-soaked lawn.  What flowers there are come from the big box stores which, around here, means they are full of neonic pesticides.  There are far more non-native plants than natives in everyone's yards, providing little food for native insects and other animals.  Often I only see one individual of a species in my yard - and, if I collected it to identify it, I might have just kept that species from keeping a toehold around here.  For example, I have not, to my knowledge, seen a southern carpenter bee here in the 3 years we've lived here - and I haven't seen another one since I saw this individual a week ago.

Why do I find it so important to know what the various insects are in my yard and gardens?  I ask myself that question on a pretty regular basis, wondering if I'm wasting everyone's time, including my own.  Then I identify a new species and learn about it, finding out that I have...

... a wasp species (Prionyx parkeri) that controls short-horned grasshopper populations and pollinates flowers...

... or a fly species, tiger bee fly (Xenox tigrinus), that parasitizes carpenter bees and balances their populations...

... or yet another syrphid fly whose larvae eats aphids.  (The syrphid fly larva is the large, brown and white blob on the milkweed stem, surrounded by its food, oleander aphids.)

The complex web of relationships in even my basic little gardens truly astounds me, and I learn so much by identifying the different species and researching a bit about their life cycles and feeding habits.   I try to share that information with others, too, hoping to encourage fellow gardeners to just relax and let Mother Nature keep the balance in their yards instead of pulling out the poisons to "keep everything under control".

In fact, thanks in great part to the insect identification help I've received from BugGuide, I've come to think that human "control" is highly over-rated and much more likely to do harm than good, especially in a garden.  What insects are YOU seeing in your garden, and what are you learning about the balance of nature all around you?  Have you dared to go chemical free yet?

This Week in Pest-Controlling and Pollinating Wasps

While I'd love to be seeing more insect life in our yard, I have to admit that I AM seeing some interesting insects - including a few that are totally new to me.  So I thought it would be fun to share what I'm seeing as well as the blooms that are bringing them in.

How to organize this????  By day?  By bloom?  By type of insect?  I'll just have to see what flows best.....

I started out to make this post an overview of all the pollinators I've seen over the week, but it quickly became apparent that would be overwhelming, so I decided to focus this post just on wasps.

Wasps have been quite prominent recently, especially solitary wasps.  Last Friday, July 20th, was when I first noticed some unusual ones -3 in a row, in fact, over the course of about 10 minutes, on the clustered mountain mint (Pycnanthemum muticum).

The first was a large scarab hunter wasp that has no common name so I've nicknamed it the fuzzy scarab hunter wasp (Campsomeris plumipes).  Like other scarab hunters, this wasp flies low above the ground, searching for (buried) scarab beetle larvae, a.k.a. beetle grubs.  When she finds one, she digs down to it, paralyzes it, lays an egg on it, and flies away.  The egg hatches out and the wasp larva consumes the beetle grub.  One wasp egg on one beetle grub, so every one of these you see means that a scarab beetle of some sort - say a June bug or green June beetle - didn't make it to adulthood.

As you can see, the adult wasp actually eats nectar to sustain itself, as is true for most of these solitary wasps.  Also as solitary wasps, they are not aggressive and they will not sting unless you actively try to handle them or they get caught in your clothing, stepped on in bare feet, etc.  You can assume this is true for all solitary wasps unless someone mentions otherwise.  It's a nice change from the more problematic social wasps.

As an aside, all the solitary wasps I'm familiar with have only one generation each year, so if you take them out (for example, by spraying insecticides), it may be several years before their population numbers can rebuild by migrating in from surrounding areas.  Given how well they function as both pollinators and, probably more importantly, as pest control, that would seem to be extremely short sighted to me.

Back to my magic 10 minutes by the mountain mint, the next insect to fly in, while I was photographing the fuzzy scarab hunter wasp, was the great golden digger wasp (Sphex ichneumoneus).  This is a species I've seen before, both here and in Kansas, and I love its fiery color and large size.  You just can't mistake this distinctive wasp with its red legs and black-tipped red abdomen for any other species.  Look, too, at the golden glow created by the gold hair on its head and thorax.  That's something you almost have to take a picture of to appreciate, although I've seen it highlighted occasionally as one of these beauties nectars. 

Another solitary wasp, great golden digger wasps hunt for and paralyze grasshoppers and crickets as food for their larvae.  The female digs a burrow in sandy soil, with a central, almost vertical, main burrow and individual cells radiating out from this primary burrow.  She places one paralyzed grasshopper or cricket in each cell, lays an egg on it, then seals up the cell.

As I was finishing up my "photo session" with the great golden digger wasp and taking a few last photos of the fuzzy scarab hunter wasp, I noticed more movement in the air space around the mountain mint - a thread waisted wasp had come in to feed, too. 

This rather bizarre looking wasp not only held its abdomen up at a strange angle as it flew, but the sun caught metallic glimmers of color on its otherwise black body and wings.  Researching on BugGuide.net, I identified this species as Eremnophila aureonotata.  Again there is no common name, so I've nicknamed it the gold-marked thread-waisted wasp, "aureonotata" meaning "gold-marked" in Latin.  This solitary wasp species feeds its larvae on a wide variety of (paralyzed) moth caterpillars, utilizing a burrow in the ground, as far as I can tell.

So, according to the time stamps on my photos, in just over 10 minutes my mountain mint had nurtured predators working to control beetle grubs, grasshoppers and mole crickets, and moth caterpillars in my gardens.  Not too shabby!!!  And it didn't cost me a dime beyond the initial cost of a very pretty perennial plant.

I've seen a couple other wasps this week, too.  One I've been seeing frequently for several weeks now is less than half the size of the big guys above.  It's a cute little black mason wasp with 2 white stripes on its abdomen (Euodynerus sp.).  When I grabbed its picture above, I think it was hunting for caterpillars among the ferns.  Again, there is no common name for this wasp, so my description above ("cute little black mason wasp") will have to suffice.  Mason and potter wasps feed their larvae primarily on moth caterpillars, although some species also use the larvae of leaf-eating beetles.  If you see smallish wasps using mud to fill up small holes (for example in brick, where your hurricane shutters have gone up in the past), it may well be one of these mason wasps.  They build cells out of mud in hollow tubes, provisioning each cell with a paralyzed caterpillar or beetle larvae on which they lay an egg before closing up the cell and moving on. 

Do you sense a pattern among the solitary wasps here?! They've found a good gig in paralyzing prey to keep it fresh for their young to eat after hatching, then tweaked the process in a myriad of different ways so that each species has its own spin...and ecological niche.

I've seen these little black and white mason wasps nectaring on blossoms as well as hunting in my gardens.  I've found small holes filled with dried mud, which I presume are their nest cells.  These are enjoyable little creatures for me to notice as I go out and about weeding, planting, transplanting, watering, and photographing.  Just in the last week I have photographs of this species hunting in these ferns, shown above, as well as in camphorweed and in and out of leaves and mulch at the base of phlox and lyreleaf sage.  Front yard, back yard.  Sun, shade.  This little wasp is a "busy bee" in its work habits.

At the other end of the size spectrum from the cute little mason wasp is the gigantic 4-spotted scarab hunter wasp (Campsomeris quadrimaculata) that I've seen a couple times now.  Boy, am I ever glad that these guys aren't at all aggressive, because they are HUGE and they give me pause even though I know they won't bother me.  The photo above shows this big black beauty all coated with pollen from nectaring at maypop flowers (Passiflora incarnata).

Here is a photo I took about 2 weeks ago of a "clean" 4 spotted scarab hunter wasp, nectaring on sweet pepperbush blooms (Clethra alnifolia).   See how much pollen the individual nectaring at the passion vine is wearing in comparison?!  That's what I call a pollinator!

For the sake of clarity, again I've made up a nickname for this wasp as, again, it has not been given an official common name.  Its specific Latin name, "quadrimaculata", means "4-spotted", while the entire genus is known as scarab hunter wasps, hence the "4-spotted scarab hunter wasp".   This is another great predator in the garden, paralyzing and laying eggs in scarab beetle grubs.

Big and little, I've got wasps sharing my gardens that are making life easier - and much more interesting - for me.  I used to hate wasps, but now I smile whenever I see one.  I hope you're seeing some great solitary wasps in your gardens, too.

 

A Passion for Life

The fragrances of the earth enjoin and
blossom in my nostrils and
sinus -
breath is what we
share with the world.
                    - Gavin Geoffrey Dillard, Graybeard Abbey

Hmmmm.  Seems like a good month to participate in Wildflower Wednesday, but what flower should I pick? 

The spotted beebalm (Monarda punctata) that just started blooming? 

The clustered mountain mint (Pycnanthemum muticum) that has become a new favorite of mine, with its frosty cool garden presence and its outstanding ability to pull in the pollinators - and their predators? 

The turkey tangle fogfruit (Phyla nodiflora) that I concurrently both love and simply dislike?

The Devil's grandmother (Elephantopus tomentosus) that also just started to bloom and which is actually looking like a garden plant this summer since I finally got around to transplanting some into a bed this spring?

The "Eveready bunny" of my garden, the old sturdy standby Indian blanket (Gaillardia pulchella) that just keeps going and going and going and going?

The swamp milkweed (Asclepias incarnata) that I'm relying on to attract some monarchs to my gardens one of these days?

The trailing pineland lantana (Lantana depressa) out by the front sidewalk, with its lemonade colored blossoms covering tidy mounds of vibrantly bright green leaves?

Nope.  Those are all cool and wonderful plants in my gardens, ...

...but I think I'm going for the maypop this time, a.k.a. passion vine (Passiflora incarnata).  Every time I walk down on the deck or dock this summer, the rich fragrance of these impossibly glamorous blossoms startles my senses with its complex allure.  Is it possible that the aroma of these blooms has given rise to the name "passion vine"?  I know that's not the commonly told history, which involves some rather convoluted symbolism about the "passion of Christ", but passion vine fragrance is every bit as romantic as gardenia to me.  This has been the first year that I've really processed how deeply fragrant these flowers are.  To my nose, I think the smell of maypop flowers is richer even than that of roses - and I love the fragrance of roses.

I wish there was a way to put a scratch & sniff app into this blog post.....

I'm obviously not the only living creature that thinks maypop flowers smell appealing, as I frequently see pollinators on them.  These big blooms seem built for BIG pollinators.  Recently, for example, I've seen both...

carpenter bees (Xylocopa virginica)...

and this huge scarab hunter wasp (Campsomeris quadrimaculata) acting almost drunk with the richness of the nectar they are drinking.  Note that the back and head of this wasp are actually coal black without pollen on them.  Yes, this wasp has accidentally gathered THAT MUCH pollen!

As this photo with the blurry carpenter bee shows, there is a horizontal space between the stigmas (curved, long and white with greenish tips) and anthers (yellowish rectangles) and the nectary (reddish purple fuzzy area at the base of the central stalk) that seems expressly designed for such big floral visitors.  If you look back at the photos above, you can see how absolutely covered with pollen the backs of these large insects are!  A smaller bee or wasp wouldn't be anywhere close to as efficient in transferring pollen as these big guys are.

A consequence of such efficient pollination is, of course, the production of seeds.  In the case of passion vine, the seeds are housed in the passion fruit.  For years I've heard that these tennis ball sized fruits are edible, but I've never tried one before because, quite frankly, they just didn't look that appealing to me.  I've decided that this year I'm going to be a bit more adventurous.  According to the web, the fruits are ripe when they start to turn yellow, get wrinkled, and fall off the vine, so I'm keeping my eyes open.  If these fruits taste at all like their fans online say, the taste may rival the fragrance of the flowers.

Humans, bees, and wasps aren't the only animals that love passion vines.  As almost anyone who has planted one knows, gulf fritillaries (Agraulis vanillae) use them as their larval plants and the fritillary caterpillars can quickly reduce a vine to tatters.  In fact, during most growing seasons I have to remind myself to "tolerate the uglies" so that my vine(s) can send many more gorgeously glowing, orange, floating "flowers" off into the breezes.  Luckily, no matter how thoroughly the passion vines are eaten, they always seem to survive and thrive the following year.

This year, however, has been different.  I saw 4 gulf fritillary caterpillars about 2 months ago, but I haven't seen another one since then...until yesterday.  Meanwhile my vines have grown huge, luxurious, almost rampant.  As passionvines do, new vines are sprouting up a dozen feet or more from the parent plant in every direction and they are now even starting to impinge on the deck stairs.  There are plenty of blossoms and a burgeoning crop of that intriguing fruit is developing.  A myriad of flower buds promise ever increasing numbers of blooms still to come.  Truth to tell, it's all beginning to get a little over-the-top, but I don't want to cut it back.  I'm waiting for the caterpillars to come and do that for me.

Finally, yesterday, I found 2 little gulf fritillary cats determinedly munching away.  Then, this afternoon, another 3 more.  Hopefully at least a couple of these tiny orange babies will make it to adulthood, providing some much needed pruning along the way.  Meanwhile, I'm joyously sharing the breath of the world with every deep inhalation of that glorious passion vine fragrance.

Southeastern Blueberry Bees

When you see something like this small mound of sand, with a single, perfectly round hole in the middle of it, in the center of your lawn, what do you think?

How about if you see a group of such structures, scattered throughout your lawn, as in this public area near our house?

I used to puzzle over this type of hole, wondering what made it and what lived in it.  Big ants?  Spiders?  Tiny snakes?  Mole crickets?

Nope.  Not even close.  It was many years before I realized what I was actually seeing.  Mounds like this are the work of solitary bees, those wonderful little pollinators that most of us barely even know about.  As I walk around my neighborhood, I see quite a few of these tiny sand piles right now - but only in the yards where the grass is just so-so.  Thick, lush lawns - which can only be maintained through chemicals down here - have absolutely no little bee mounds.

So, wouldn't ground-nesting bees be a bad thing?  What about the possibility of bee stings?

You don't have to worry at all.  There's really no problem.  The key word is SOLITARY.  Each hole is the work of one little female bee, who visits hundreds of flowers to collect pollen with which she makes little balls of food, one ball per egg.  She will only produce a couple dozen eggs in her lifetime - and she'll work VERY hard to do that and to provision each one with enough food to ensure survival.  This little bee doesn't have time to worry about keeping anything away from her nest.  In fact, you'll rarely catch her there.  If she were to sting you, she'd die - and then there would be no more eggs laid.  She's not going to waste her life that way.

So why do people like these little solitary bees so much?  What makes them special?

Native solitary bees are the pollinator workhorses of this continent.  They evolved with the plants on North America to efficiently pollinate their flowers, producing fruit, nuts, and seeds.  (Honeybees were brought over by European settlers.  The native plants here would survive just fine without honeybees.)

Right now, in very early March, I'm only seeing one species of solitary bee at flowers.  As I look around, I'm also only seeing one type of solitary bee nest, consisting of this dainty mound of fresh sand with a perfectly round hole, about 1/4" in diameter, in the approximate center of it.  I have not yet seen a bee come out of one of these holes, but I am guessing that the two belong together, that these are the nests of the bees that I'm seeing.

It's been a little tough to photograph and identify these small, solitary bees as they zip from flower to flower, though.  They don't stay in one place for very long.  To my "naked" eye, they look like little bumble bees, but they are much faster and warier than bumble bees.  Most of these solitary bees seem to be a bit less than half the size of a typical bumblebee - or carpenter bee.

After several days of stalking these little guys, though, I've been able to come up with enough photographic evidence to identify them, at least to my satisfaction.  I believe they are southeastern blueberry bees, Habropoda laboriosa. 

If you raise blueberries, these guys are superheroes.  They buzz pollinate, which involves buzzing in a special way and at a particular frequency to get the pollen to drop.  Blueberry flowers are rather hard to pollinate, actually, and these guys are specialists at it. 

Apparently a single female southeastern blueberry bee will visit up to 600 blueberry flowers to collect the pollen to make a single ball of food for one of her eggs.  Through her pollination activity, over the course of her lifetime, she is estimated to be responsible for producing an average of 6000 blueberries. That's a lot of blueberries for a little bee like this!

Although these bees are primarily known for "working" blueberry flowers, I am also seeing them at both azalea blooms and at spiderwort blossoms.  Here's a female with legs full of (white) pollen at a spiderwort bloom.

Of course, only the females carry pollen, so if you see a little bee laden with full pollen baskets, it's definitely female.  The males of this species have a large white patch on their face, like the individual in the (blurry) picture below, so it's actually easy to tell the sexes apart, even if there's no pollen to see.

So if you have blueberry bushes in your yard, keep your eyes open for small "bumble bees" working your blueberry flowers.  They are about the best insurance you can have for getting a good crop of berries later in the year.  Best of all, they're free!  Be sure to leave some areas of open soil or scraggly lawn for them to nest in, though, because you can't have southeastern blueberry bees without places for female southeastern blueberry bees to provision and raise their young.

Garden Pest Control, Goldenrod Style

Frustratingly, we are often gone during the time when the goldenrods are in full bloom.  I say "frustratingly" because I am fascinated by pollinators and by the interaction between plants and the insects that use them...and goldenrods are among the most highly utilized flowers in my gardens.  Only asters seem to attract more insects.

We only have 2 species of goldenrod in our yard so far.  One species, wreath goldenrod (Solidago caesia), I planted.  The second species, whose identity is more problematic, came in on its own.  When I looked at the USDA Plant Profiles site, there are 12 goldenrods said to be native to Okaloosa County, Florida.  I can eliminate two of those species based on growth habit, but I am still left with at least 10 possible species that might be "my" goldenrod.  That said, I'm not sure how important it is to know the exact identity as, to my knowledge, all goldenrods are spectacular pollinator plants.

Like most years, we were gone for 10 days during peak goldenrod bloom time this year, but I was able to get a few photos the day we left and, again, a day or two after we got back.  I don't have all the insects identified, but I thought I'd share some of the photos with you anyway.

As I listed the species I'd photographed nectaring on or otherwise using our goldenrods, I realized that goldenrods are marvelous predator attractants.  There were at least 6 different wasp species nectaring, most of whom feed their young on moth or other caterpillars.  (Note:  I am paranoid about wasps, but have never been bothered by a wasp feeding on a flower.  Generally only social wasps and bees are aggressive, and then only in defending their nests.)  There were other insect predators, too.

There were at least 4 different mason or potter wasps, all of whom feed their young on caterpillars:

Among these cute little solitary wasps, some (the mason wasps) utilize existing small holes to pack with paralyzed caterpillars and lay an egg upon, before closing up the opening with mud.  The holes in our bricks around the windows, where a prior owner had to board up the windows in preparation for a hurricane, are popular nesting spots for mason wasps.  Others of these wasps build free standing pots of mud which are filled with paralyzed caterpillars before an egg is laid and the pot is sealed.  Those are, not surprisingly, known as potter wasps.


Shown below, northern paper wasps can be very colorful.  This IS a social species and they build a classic "wasp nest" made of regurgitated wood fibers (paper).  Typical of social wasp species, paper wasps do defend their nest - but the individual wasps pay no attention to people when they are away from the nest, feeding on nectar.  Like the species above, this species hunts caterpillars but they hunt other insects, too, to feed their larvae.  They chew up their prey and feed their young on the protein rich regurgitated mix that results.

Thread-waisted wasps are odd looking creatures, but again they are great predators.  While the adult feeds on nectar at flowers, they feed their young on moth caterpillars.  Good protein for growing bodies!

Breaking the long line of caterpillar predators, there were also five-banded tiphiid wasps.  Tiphiid wasps lay each egg on a white grub in the soil (yes, THOSE white grubs).  When the egg hatches, the wasp larva burrows into the grub and slowly eats it from the inside, saving the most important organs for last, so that the grub remains alive and "fresh" until the bitter end.

Two other predatory insects that I found and photographed on the goldenrod were a pair of ladybugs (whose photo was so bad that I'm going to save my photographic reputation and not share it) and a milkweed assassin bug. 

Assassin bugs are indiscriminate predators and feed on many different kinds of insects.  I have to wonder how this brightly colored insect can get close enough to any other insect to capture it and eat it, but obviously they do.



There were common green bottle flies nectaring on the goldenrod, too.  These are one of the insect species whose larvae feed on carrion - and those larvae are also used by forensic scientists to date the age of corpses.  Obviously, the adults feed on flower nectar.

When you think of pollinators, you think of bees, right?  So far I haven't actually shared photos of any bees that were visiting the goldenrod, but there were, indeed, several different species of native bees that I saw.

In fact, bees were the most obvious insects feeding on the goldenrod blooms - at least in part because some of them were the biggest insects.  What is the first thing you notice in the photo above?  The two big eastern carpenter bees, of course.

Zooming in a little bit closer, you can see the righthand one in decent focus.  The left one, the one that is flying, is unfortunately out of focus, but I think you can still see the "bare" abdomen that is indicative of carpenter bees.  That big shiny black abdomen is the quickest and easiest way to separate carpenter bees from similarly sized and shaped bumblebees, whose abdomens are covered with hair.

There was one big black bee that also had a shiny abdomen.  I'd never seen one quite like it before, so I submitted the photos to BugGuide, where I was told it was also a carpenter bee....

.... a female southern carpenter bee (Xylocopa micans).  The males of this species have yellow or orangish hair on their thorax, similar to the eastern carpenter bee above, but they often seem to have green eyes... or at least that's what it seems like, looking at the images on BugGuide.

There was a male green metallic bee (Agapostemon splendens), a species I've seen on other flowers in the yard before.

There were also a couple of bees that I haven't identified yet.

I may need to ask for help from BugGuide to identify these, too.



If we'd been home during the peak goldenrod bloom time, I'm sure that I'd have more insect photos to share with you.  There were, for example, several butterflies that I'd see nectaring on the goldenrod, but they were always gone by the time I got outside with my camera.

All in all, though, I'm pretty happy with the 15 different species I observed using the goldenrods in our yard.  These pollinators will also be pollinating other flowers in the area...and over half of these species will also be controlling leaf-eating insect species in the yard as they raise their families.  That's pest control I LOVE to see happening!