To bee or not to bee. Not to bee. The flying insect hovering over the Ruth Risdon Storer Garden, UC Davis Arboretum, looked like a honey bee or wasp at first glance. It wasn't. It was a hover fly or syphrid fly from the order Diptera (Greek for "two wings") and family Syrphidae.
It's like going to the circus. A bee circus. When you see honey bees gather pollen from a gaura (Gaura linheimeri), it's as if they ran off and joined the circus. You'll see hire-wire (er...high-stem) acts, somersaults, pirouettes, cartwheels and cliffhangers.
A bee on a ball. When it flowers, the button-willow (Cephalanthus occidentalis), also known as willow, buttonbush, honey ball, and button ball (oh, that's so close to butter ball!) attracts honey bees and butterflies like you wouldn't believe.
If you were a queen bee, you'd be laying about 1500 to 2000 eggs today. It's your busy season. "She's an egg-laying machine," said bee breeder-geneticist Susan Cobey of the Harry H. Laidlaw Jr. Honey Bee Research Facility at UC Davis. "And she's the mother of all the bees in the hive.
"Omigosh, what's that? A gray hairstreak?" If it's in your hair, you consult a mirror, your favorite salon, or just ignore it. If you're an entomologist or a lepidopterist, a gray hairstreak is delightful.
