Imagine if there was a city on the far side of the moon, and we didn't know it was there because we can't see it.* Even though we spend a lot of time gazing at the moon, because we think it's beautiful, or studying it through telescopes to find out about it, the far side is out of our view, because the same side always faces us. So there could be anything happening on the far side, and we wouldn't know it. Sometimes I feel like parts of my backyard are like that. My rock garden, for instance. My rock garden is full of rocks, yes, but also covered almost completely by a ground covering plant, and in between the dirt and the tops of these plants, a space of a few inches, I think there is an entire insect civilization. I do get glimpses of the life there (which is not happening in regards to the moon), when things crawl out, or I see things crawl in, but I think there is a lot that I am not seeing (though I hear some of it–I rarely see them, but I hear the crickets that are living in that civilization). And the leaf litter is like that, too. It's covering the ground, but there is a bit of space in between where lots of things live. And yet, you don't see it if you're only looking at the surface (Maybe in my metaphor the moon city should have been underground). And this is all just things that are living on the surface, there a whole different world of life under the dirt. And in every one of these civilizations, it's not just insects, there are reptiles, and mammals, and amphibians, and... whatever worms are, and... well, a lot of things. And as much time as we spend outside, even if we're out there enjoying the beauty of what we see, there is a whole lot of life right at our feet, and we never even know it's there.
*Yes, I know, astronauts have flown around the moon, and there was no city there. Also, there's no atmosphere there, so... It's just a metaphor.
I found these two (and another like them) crawling around in the rock garden, and they kept disappearing under the plants and then coming back out again. This is the kind of thing that has made me ponder lately about the insect civilization under the plants. I see a lot of insects coming and going there, and can't help but wonder how many more are under there all the time:
I think this is an ichneumon wasp of some kind.
Another wasp. Or sawfly. I am not sure.
Backyard Bug of the Day:
I think this is a new species for me. Obviously Hemiptera. Some sort of plant bug, I would guess.
As you may have noticed if you have read this blog for a while, and as I think I have mentioned many times, some insects have seasons of their own, not tied to the the time frame of our seasons. For instance, this is the time of year when fall-flying March flies suddenly appear in my backyard, swarming everywhere. This is also the time of year when I begin the exercise in futility that is attempting to photograph these swarms. I think I did all right this year (and will try not to get carried away with these pictures over the next couple of weeks, even though I got carried away today):
As I was watching these insects today, I thought about how this isn't really just random buzzing around, there is a kind of choreography to it, and, assuming that this is mating behavior, it made me think about the characters in Jane Austen's novels, and how those characters do sort of the same thing, engage in courtship through dance. Then I did some reading when I came in the house and found out that the larvae of the March fly live underground, and they emerge as adults just to mate (and then die. It's rough being a bug). The males are the ones that engage in these swarms, so this is a group of all males dancing together. The females emerge from the ground and the males mate with them right away, according to the website I read, which kind of makes me wonder what the dancing is for, unless it's just a way to try to spot the females as they emerge, sort of aerial surveilance. What the thing I read did not address was why I often see both males and females just basking in the sunshine on leaves and other places.
Here's one just basking on a rock.
The swarms don't usually let me get this close.
The lighting has to be just right to photograph these swarms in the air...
I am still convinced that this kind of scene is where the idea of fairies came from.
I saw one March fly a couple of days ago, and when I started my bug walk today I was thinking that it was weird I hadn't seen any more. And then I saw swarms of them.
How about a closer look?
Other Bugs:
Whenever I see a bug crawling on the side of the house at this time of year I assume they are trying to find a way inside for the winter.
Today was warmer than the last few days, and sunny, so the chrysanthemums were popular again (though the sweat bee that spent the last 3 days on one flower was not there today):
Sweat bee
Sweat bee, hover fly, and out-of-focus gnat
Moth
Another moth
Crane fly and out-of-focus sweat bee
Sweat bee and gnat
Bee
Another insect "season":
This time of year I start to see a lot of candy striped leaf hoppers on the remaining leaves. There were three here, but one scooted to the back side of the leaf when I got close.
Cricket
Twice-stabbed lady beetles have always liked this rock.
Winter firefly.
Arachnid Appreciation:
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Jumping spider with March fly. The fly was not dead yet.
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