And now for something completely different.
catchphrase from Monty Python’s Flying Circus
The observations made little sense to me. Why did a small group of sand wasps wrap themselves into in a ball? As far as I know, this isn’t a regular activity for either social or solitary wasps.
First, here is a picture of the event. A second image will follow a found explanation.
Sand wasps (Genus: Bembix) flew in and wrapped themselves into a ball.
Sand wasps in the genus, Bembix, are solitary, and non-aggressive:
• Solitary This means that they don’t live in a hive where a queen wasp is the only one that mates and produces offspring. Solitary females each mate and produce their own young.
• Non-aggressive As they have no need to defend a hive, they lack aggression. One can stand in the middle of a swirling population of dozens of sand wasps, and they go about their activities while ignoring the human in their midst.
In the early summer, sand wasps emerge from their long, shallow, natal tunnels in the sand. They mate, and then the females lay eggs in new tunnels. Into these tunnels are dragged all manner of flies and other bugs that have been paralyzed with a sting. These serve as food for the wasp grubs. Grubs, that by the next summer will emerge as a fresh batch of sand wasps.
Now, let’s return to the mating stage. Males patrol the area looking to mate with a freshly emerged virgin. She then flies up and they mate on the wing. It seems that the mating on the wing does not always go as planned and the two of them sometimes plunge to the ground. At this point, a number of others join in and make a frenetic mating ball.
A mating ball of sand wasps
The explanation of this event is found on the blog of Bug Eric.
Canada’s diversity
Today, July 1st, marks Canada Day and the country’s 152nd birthday.
Canadians value and celebrate diversity — by which they mean cultural diversity. However, some feel that the preservation of our species diversity merits a similar attention.
This selection of images, taken from the blog since last year’s celebration, was chosen more for variety than drama.
I start and finish with an uncharismatic phylum: arthropods. This deer fly is laying eggs.
A Northern Flicker father feeds ant’s eggs to his chicks.
Turkey Vultures warm their wings in the morning sunlight, while eyeing tasty Kokanee spawning in the creek below.
An Osprey struggles to lift a large Kokanee from the Lake.
An elk browses in the woods.
If you are a small bird and you see this Merlin out of the corner of your eye, you are toast.
Not all natural delights are wildlife species. This is a circumzenithal arc.
A long-tailed weasel hunts.
Succeeding in shooting a snipe in flight qualifies me as a sniper.
A pika chows down on leaves.
Two Double-crested Cormorants comment on the flyby of a third.
A Rough-legged Hawk speculates on the edibility of my camera.
A bee-mimic fly visits a flower.
A raven flies off with a Cassin’s Finch
A Western Bluebird couple looks out from a nesting box.
This striped skunk is probably out in the daylight because it is looking for a mate.
A Bohemian Waxwing flies by.
A mule deer stots
Migrating Trumpeter Swans have been feeding in the shallows of the Lake.
These Western Toads are in amplexus.
A diving muskrat looks as if it is kissing the water.
Two Great Horned Owlets, still in down, size up their new world.
I close this collection with two more arthropods: a crab spider consuming a flying ant.
