- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
Blister beetles (family Meloidae) are so named because they emit a poisonous chemical, cantharidin, that can blister your skin. Don't even think about touching them!
Blister beetles can infest alfalfa hay, and are toxic--even deadly--to livestock. See "Blister Beetles" published by the Montana Agricultural Experiment Station.
But did you know that...
Blister beetles are pollinators!
We recently saw a blister beetle eating pollen on a Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola. We've also seen this insect transferring pollen.
But we have yet to hear someone shout out "blister beetle" when a speaker asks the audience for a list of pollinators.
But they are pollinators...Just think of all the alliteration...bees, butterflies, beetles, birds and bats...and the double alliteration, "blister beetles."
![A blister beetle (family Meloidae) eating pollen from the Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) A blister beetle (family Meloidae) eating pollen from the Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/107760.jpg)
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
A monarch on the move...
When you see a monarch foraging on a flower, have you ever seen them--or photographed them--taking flight?
It's not your iconic image of monarch, but a few twists and turns, jumble of colors and jagged lines, and the monarch takes flight.
Scenario: a male monarch nectaring on Sept. 4 on a Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola, in a Vacaville pollinator garden.
He decides it's time to depart--maybe because he's had his fill of nectar, or maybe because male longhorned bees are becoming increasingly territorial, or maybe just because....
![A male monarch nectaring on a Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola, in a Vacaville pollinator garden. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) A male monarch nectaring on a Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola, in a Vacaville pollinator garden. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101780.jpg)
![The male monarch takes flight. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) The male monarch takes flight. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101781.jpg)
![A few twists and turns, a jumble of colors and jagged lines, and the male monarch takes flight. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) A few twists and turns, a jumble of colors and jagged lines, and the male monarch takes flight. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101782.jpg)
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
Let's roll!
During the golden hour, right before sunset, have you ever watched a male longhorned bee roll full-barrel over a flower at Top Gun speed?
During the day, the male longhorned target assorted insects foraging on "their" patch of flowers. Their goal: to save the nectar for the females of their species, perchance to mate with them.
This bee, probably a Melissodes agilis, burst over a Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola, at breakneck speed. This may have been his last flight before he settled down to sleep with a cluster of other male bees.
He's promising more territorial maneuvers tomorrow...and the next day...and the next day...
Mine. My patch of flowers.
![A male Melissodes agilis barreling over a Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) A male Melissodes agilis barreling over a Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101600.jpg)
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
And just like that, a female monarch butterfly fluttered into our Vacaville pollinator garden this morning, Aug. 10, and left a dozen or so calling cards: precious eggs.
We earlier saw a male monarch patrolling the garden on the morning of July 23, but he left to go find the girls.
So, total number of monarchs sighted in our garden so far this year: 2. (In 2016, we counted more than 300 eggs and caterpillars.)
Ms. Monarch deposited eggs on three milkweed plants: a narrow-leafed milkweed, Asclepias fascicularis, and two tropical milkweeds, Asclepias curassavica. She favored a lone tropical milkweed thriving in a planter. It's already attracted honey bees, leafcutter bees, syrphid flies, crab spiders, cabbage white butterflies, Gulf Fritillaries, mourning cloaks, gray hairstreaks, Western tiger swallowtails, ants, aphids, and a young praying mantis lying in wait.
Ms. Monarch totally ignored the showy milkweed, Asclepias speciosa, that towers over the garden. Not for me, she seemed to say. Ditto on the butterflyweed, Asclepias tuberosa.
We managed a few images of Ms. Monarch in flight, several images of her laying eggs, and a couple of the ever-so tiny eggs clinging beneath the leaves.
Welcome, Ms. Monarch. Now go tell all your buddies where to find the milkweed of your choice, and the rich nectar sources such as Mexican sunflowers (Tithonia rotunifola).
And you better warn them about that praying mantis...
![A female monarch flutters into a Vacaville garden on Aug. 10 and checks out the narrow-leafed milkweed, Asclepias fascicularis. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) A female monarch flutters into a Vacaville garden on Aug. 10 and checks out the narrow-leafed milkweed, Asclepias fascicularis. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101258.jpg)
![The monarch heads for another milkweed. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) The monarch heads for another milkweed. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101259.jpg)
![The monarch investigates a tropical milkweed, Asclepias curassavica. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) The monarch investigates a tropical milkweed, Asclepias curassavica. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101260.jpg)
![A tiny monarch egg clings to the underside of a narrow-leafed milkweed, Asclepias fascicularis. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) A tiny monarch egg clings to the underside of a narrow-leafed milkweed, Asclepias fascicularis. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101261.jpg)
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
In his fascinating book, "Life on a Little-Known Planet: A Biologist's View of Insects and Their World," Connecticut-born biologist/entomologist Howard Ensign Evans (1919-2002) asks "What good is a butterfly?"
"To the farmer, it is an adult cabbage worm or carrot caterpillar, and better off dead. To the entomologist, it is a member of a group of diurnal lepidopterans possessing knobbed antennae, a group containing a few pest species but mainly of interest to hobbyists and dabblers. To the romantic poet, it is a stray piece of some forgotten rainbow, a vagrant wisp of eternity---but there are no longer any romantic poets to speak of. To the man of the world, the pillar of society, a butterfly is simply nothing at all."
Oh, but they bring waves of joy to gardeners. And they are pollinators!
Take the Gulf Fritillaries or passion butterflies (Agraulis vanillae) that breed on our passionflower vine (Passiflora), sip nectar from a zinnia, and flutter around the garden as if they own it. They do. It is their real estate.
Sometimes the Gulf Frits encounter a bird, a praying mantis or a spider, and sometimes they live to bring us another wave of joy. Maybe a ripple, maybe a swell, maybe a surge...but it's a wave of joy.
Thank you, Gulf Frits!
And thank you, Howard Ensign Evans, for describing them as "a stray piece of some forgotten rainbow, a wisp of eternity."
Because they are.
![A tattered Gulf Fritillary sipping nectar from a zinnia in a Vacaville, Calif., garden. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) A tattered Gulf Fritillary sipping nectar from a zinnia in a Vacaville, Calif., garden. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101232.jpg)
![A Gulf Fritillary laying an egg on her host plant, Passiflora. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) A Gulf Fritillary laying an egg on her host plant, Passiflora. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101233.jpg)
![A Gulf Fritillary showing rejection toward a mate after laying an egg on the tendrils of a passionflower vine. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey) A Gulf Fritillary showing rejection toward a mate after laying an egg on the tendrils of a passionflower vine. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)](/blogs/blogcore/blogfiles/101234.jpg)