Butterflies flutter. 

Bees don't.

Indeed, some bees seem to possess Superman's extraordinary power of "faster than a speeding bullet."  They're just lacking a blue costume, a red cape and an "S" on their thorax.

The butterfly doing the fluttering in our garden is the Gulf Fritillary, Agraulis vanillae, a showy reddish-orange Lepitopderan that lays its eggs on our passionflower vine (Passiflora).

The bee doing the speeding-bullet routine is the male longhorned digger bee, Melissodes agilis. They are so territorial that they claim ALL members of the sunflower family in our garden: the blanket flowers (Gallardia), the Mexican sunflowers (Tithonia) and the purple coneflowers (Echinacea purpurea).

They relentlessly patrol the garden and dive-bomb assorted bumble bees, carpenter bees, honey bees, sweat bees, wasps, syrphid flies, butterflies and even stray leaves that land on "their" flowers. (Their eyesight is not as good as Superman's.)

Why? They're trying to save the pollen and nectar resources for the Melissodes agilis females. And trying to entice and engage the girls.

Last Sunday we watched a Gulf Frit touch down on the Tithonia. Just as it was gathering some nectar, a speeding bullet approached.

How fast?

If it were a horse, it would have been Secretariat.

If it were a track star, it would have been "Lightning Bolt" Usian St. Leo Bolt.

If it were a car, it would have been a Hennessey Venom GT.

If it were a plane, it would have been a Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird.

Swoosh! As the longhorned digger bee rifled by, the startled Gulf Frit shot straight up. Straight up.

Frankly, the Gulf Frit could have "leaped a tall building in a single bound."

Male longhorned digger bees asleep on a lavender stem. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)

But how can you sleep when you sense a predator in your midst?

Last night, as usual, was Boys' Night Out in our lavender patch. The male longhorned digger bees, Melissodes agilis (as identified by native pollinator specialist Robbin Thorp, emeritus professor of entomology at the University of California, Davis), were sleeping on a lavender stem, as the females nested underground.

The males cluster or "roost" or "camp out" on the stems from around 6 at night until 7 in the morning, and it's a sight to see. A veritable bedroom community. Our lavender patch is a living room during the day and a bedroom at night.

Curiously enough, the males are very territorial in daylight hours as they compete for the females. We've seen them dive-bomb carpenter bees, bumble bees, sweat bees, butterflies, dragonflies and the males of their own species.

But even though they battle fiercely during the day, they sleep together peacefully at night.

Lately the roosting males seem to be vanishing. We're accustomed to seeing 12 to 15 on a stem. It's dwindled down to eight or nine. Where did they go? Did they find another place? A better "bed?" More room at the inn?

So at 6:30 a.m. today, we parted the lavender stems to observe the boys. Not as many as yesterday.

Wait, what's that? Could it be? It was. A praying mantis!

And the praying mantis, looking quite emaciated, was edging toward the sleeping boys.

Easy pickings. Too easy. Would it grab one of them?

It did not.

It climbed down the lavender stem, peered at the sleeping boys--hmm, breakfast?--and then moved to another lavender stem.

Close call? Maybe. Maybe not. We've heard that praying mantids prefer moving prey and these prey weren't moving. 

By day, they fly around our yard looking for the girls.

At night, it's "Boys' Night Out."

These males, longhorned digger bees, Melissodes agilis (as identified by native pollinator specialist Robbin Thorp, emeritus professor of entomology at UC Davis), are absolutely spectacular.  At night the males roost on our lavender stems, sometimes 8 to 10 on a single stem.  Their "bedroom" gets quite crowded.

Melissodes are ground-nesting solitary bees. While the males sleep overnight on the flowers, each female is tucked away in her ground nest.

According to the Discoverlife.org: "With the apparent exception of Florida, agilis occurs throughout the United States, Southern Canada and Northern Mexico, and is in flight from May to November in the East."

Christopher O'Toole and Anthony Raw write in their book, Insects of the World, that Melissodes are found on all continents except for Australia. "The males of nearly all species have very long antennae and are colloquially known as 'longhorned bees.'"

These bees frequent plants of the sunflower family, Helianthus. In our yard, they gravitate toward the blanket flowers (Gallardia) and Mexican sunflower (Tithonia).

We've found them "going to bed" at 6 p.m. and rising around 7 a.m. We clocked one "sleepy head" getting up at 10:30 a.m. as honey bees and bumble bees buzzed around him, foraging for nectar on the lavender.

That was on Sunday, Father's Day.

A brilliant sunflower clinging to the red ring of autumn.

And here comes a common sunflower bee, Melissodes agilis (this is a female, as identified by native pollinator specialist Robbin Thorp, emeritus professor of entomology at the University of California, Davis.)

The sunflower bee is a specialist on sunflowers (Helianthus spp.). Scientists know this as a long-horned ground-nesting bee, a member of Anthophoridae. Both the plant and the bee are native to the United States. 

Melissodes agilis is commercially important. And it's common.

But there's nothing "common" about it when "sunflower bee" meets "sunflower."

The beauty is overwhelming.