What's that hopping on our patio?

At first we thought it was a grasshopper. Not!

It was a katydid, sometimes called a "long-horned grasshopper," from the family Tettigoniidae (as identified by Lynn Kimsey, director of the Bohart Museum of Entomology and UC Davis professor of entomology, and native pollinator specialist Robbin Thorp, emeritus professor of entomology at UC Davis).  

"Katydids have long, threadlike antennae," said Kimsey. "Grasshopper antennae are rarely much longer than the head."

Said Thorp: "Note the long slender antennae (as long as or longer than the body); the very long slender jumping hind legs; and the scimitar-like ovipositor at the end of the abdomen."

Scientists tell us that the number of described species in the family Tettigoniidae exceeds 6400. Most katydids are green. They're often perfectly camouflaged in bushes and trees.

A katydid. The name is derived from the "song" it sings by rubbing its wings together. "Katy did." "Katy didn't."

This katydid, a female, responded to our footsteps. (Their "ears" or hearing organs are on their front feet.)

It hopped away, but not before we captured its image.

Flowering artichokes indicate one of two things (1) someone never bothered to harvest them or (2) someone loves bees. 

We let our artichokes flower. So does the Häagen-Dazs Honey Bee Haven, a half-acre bee friendly garden on Bee Biology Road next to the Harry H. Laidlaw Jr. Honey Bee Research Facility, UC Davis. Owned and operated by the UC Davis Department of Entomology and Nematology, the haven provides a year-around food source for bees and other pollinators;  raises public awareness about the plight of honey bees, and encourages visitors to plant bee-friendly gardens of their own.   

It's delightful to watch the honey bees helicopter in, touch down in the purple forest, and thread their way to the food source. 

It's especially delightful to know that National Pollinator Week is next week, June 17-23.  Launched six years ago by the U.S. Senate, designated by the U.S. Department of Interior,  and initiated and managed by the San Francisco-based Pollinator Partnership, it's an opportunity to address "the urgent issue of declining pollinator populations," according to the Pollinator Partnership website.

It's not only about the bees, but other pollinators, such as birds, butterflies, bats, beetles, ants, wasps and yes, even flies.

Why are pollinators important and why should we care? Go to the Pollinator Week's 
"Fast Facts" page.

One such fact: "About 75 percent of all flowering plants rely on animal pollinators and over 200,000 species of animals act as pollinators. Of those, about 1,000 are hummingbirds, bats, and small mammals.  The rest are insects such as beetles, bees, ants, wasps, butterflies, and moths."

Meanwhile, the flowering artichokes are getting a real workout.  Often, you can't see the forest for the bees.

Digger bee inside a nest. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)

But there's one thing they don't do. They don't check out the sand dunes, home of the bee villages.

Tiny holes are everywhere, yet nobody seems to notice.

They're the work of digger bees, aka faux bumble bees. These are Anthophora bomboides stanfordiana, researched by native pollinator specialist Robbin Thorp, emeritus professor of entomology at UC Davis.

"The (female) bees suck up water nearby and then regurgitate on the (faces of the) sandstone cliffs to moisten and excavate soil for the tunnels, construct their turrets, and finally to seal the nest tunnel," Thorp says.  The bees use some of the soil from the base of the turret to plug the entrance. 

The bee turrets are somewhat like our gated communities! Keep out!

The digger bees have "grocery stores" all around them. You'll see the males and females foraging on the wildflowers, which include yellow and blue lupine, California golden poppies, wild radish, mustard, dandelions, and seaside daises. 

If you crouch next to the bee villages, a nearby hiker is likely to ask "Lose something?"

No, we found something! 

Gulf fritillary butterfly. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)

But they're doing it too well.

The gulf frittillary butterflies (Agraulis vanillae) are mating and depositing their eggs on our passion flower vines--as we want them to do--but complete metamorphosis always seems to be incomplete. It's supposed to be egg, larva (caterpillar), chrysalis, adult.

But it's really egg, caterpillar, scrub jay food.

The ever-present scrub jays nest in our trees and swoop down periodically to feast on the caterpillars. Now that they have many mouths to feed, they seem to be even more vigilant.

But today, as luck would have it, we noticed several caterpillars tucked beneath the leaves. 

Butterfly expert Art Shapiro, distinguished professor of evolution and ecology at the University of California, Davis, monitors the Central Valley butterfly population, including the gulf frits. In the early 1970s, scientists considered the reddish-orange showy butterfly extinct in the Sacramento/Yolo area. However, since 2000, it's been making a comeback.

Like many butterfly/plant enthusiasts, we planted the passion flower fine (tropical genus Passiflora) to attract them. We watch the gulf frits nectar on the nearby lantana and lay their tiny golden eggs on the passion flower vine.

Sadly, we're not the only ones watching them.