- Author: Marshall Foletta
It's summer—and that means baseball, tomatoes, and wasps. Since moving to the “country” I‘ve come to associate the leg-dangling flyers with the rising thermometer. But only recently I've decided that a little more tolerance and a little less panic should guide my response to these beneficial insects.
There are more than 100,000 species of wasps populating the planet—and the vast majority (“solitary wasps”) live out their lonely lives in anonymity. But “social wasps”—those that live as members of colonies—are far less successful in flying below the radar. Here in California, the most ubiquitous social wasps are yellow jackets and paper wasps. The former have a nose for picnics; no experienced barbequer lights up a grill without setting aside a sacrificial steak to lure the uninvited critters away from the table. And it's not a bad idea—yellow jackets (actually a name that can refer to one of several different species within the genera Vespula and Dolichovespula) are among the more aggressive wasps. When foraging for food or defending a prized piece of beef (Vespula pensylvanica is actually known as the”meat bee”), the yellow jacket is a formidable foe.
Yellow jackets can be a pain, but I've found their less aggressive cousin, the paper wasp (Vespidae polistinae), to be the greater nuisance. True to their name, they use a centuries-old recipe of wood pulp and spit to construct nests under eaves, behind fence boards, and inside horse stalls. They rarely attack unless provoked, and they don't care much for barbeques, but if you disturb their nests (which by August are everywhere) they unleash their aerial fury.
I'm actually pretty fortunate. I experience only a mild reaction to wasp stings. My wife, on the other hand, is more sensitive. A recent sting on the jaw left her looking like she had gone three rounds in The Octagon. And some folks suffer even more severe effects—a systemic allergic reaction that, on rare occasions, can lead to death.
These risks mean that we should not take wasps lightly. But neither should we over-react. Wasps play an important part in the ecosystem. Some are pollinators—but perhaps even more important, most are useful predators of harmful insects. Paper wasp larvae, for example, pack a voracious appetite for caterpillars. Their doting parents will transport corn earworms, armyworms, and loopers back to the nest to feed their brood. It's my understanding that juicy hornworms are a particular treat.
So while no one likes to get stung, wasps really are our friends—which means the next time you reach for the bottle of wasp-be-gone, think about your tomato plants. Isn't a vine-ripened tomato worth a little pain?