Well, it's not really a Halloween butterfly, but it is orange.

The Fiery Skipper (Hylephila phyleus) visits us more than the politicians do at Election Time. Last Sunday we spotted four Skippers in our backyard. Only two politicians skipped to our front door.

The Fierry Skipper nectars our sage, adding a decidedly orange glow to the purple flowers.

UC Davis butterfly expert Arthur Shapiro says this one (below) is a male. It's California's "most urban" butterfly, he says, adding that it's almost limited to places where people mow lawns.

Its range extends to Argentina and Chile. The oldest Bay Area record of the Fiery Skipper dates back to 1937.

Its caterpillar hosts include Bermuda grass, crabgrass, St. Augustine grass and other grasses. Well, that counts us out. We have none of those, just a bee friendly garden. No lawn. No grass. No weeds. Just a big burst of flowers.

And Fiery Skippers. 

Remember the 1998 U.S. vice presidential debate when Sen. Lloyd Bentsen told Sen Dan Quayle: "I knew Jack Kennedy, and you're no Jack Kennedy!"

Well, in the insect world, there's a fly that looks a lot like a honey bee, but it's no honey bee.

It's a drone fly (Eristallis tenax) from the family Syrphidae. It resembles a drone (male) honey bee.

UC Davis entomologist and emeritus professor Robbin Thorp of the Harry H. Laidlaw Jr. Honey Bee Research Facility, who does research on native pollinators, identified the drone fly below as a female.

The drone fly is brownish black with light yellow triangles at the base of the abdomen.

"It's sometimes called the 'H fly' for the pattern on the front of the abdomen," Thorp said.

So, what's the resemblance between a drone fly and a drone honey bees? The eyes. And the similar bullet-shaped bodies. "The eyes look quite a bit alike," agreed UC Davis apiculturist Eric Mussen.

However, the honey bee has four wings, and the drone fly, two. "But sometimes," Mussen said, "you don't notice the drone honey bee's other pair of wings."

There's no mistaking the larvae, though. They drone fly larvae are aquatic. They live in drainage ditches, sewage, and stagnant ponds or sluggish streams. Each little sausage-shaped larva has a long breathing tube which it extends to the surface for oxygen. It's known as a "rat-tailed maggot."

Did anybody say "Yecch?" Yecch!

Sometimes you'll see the rat-tailed maggots moving around in fresh cattle dung or, shall we say, moist excrement.

Did anybody say "Yecch?" Yecch!

When it's an adult, it visits flowers, like this drone fly did in the Storer Gardens during the recent UC Davis Arboretum Plant Faire.

I'm glad it wasn't a rat-tailed maggot.

But it used to be.

Ladybugs love our Russian sage.

Ladybugs, aka ladybird beetles, eat aphids, which are pests in the garden. The ladybugs are welcome. The aphids are not.

Belonging to the family Coccinellidae, ladybugs look resplendent in their bright red or orange wing covers, dotted with spots. They'd surely be the center of attention at a Bug Ball. Luck be a lady.

We see immature ladybugs going through metamorphosis. Last weekend, we witnessed a pupa sheddding its skin. Exvium is a biological marvel.

If you want to see a ladybug eating an aphid, you'll have to watch the 44-minute film presentation, "Biological Control of Greenhouse Pests with Natural Arthropod Enemies," to be shown at 12:15 p.m., Wednesday, Oct. 15 in 122 Briggs Hall, UC Davis campus. It's the work of professor Urs Wyss of the Institute of Phytopathology, Kiel University, Germany, who will be there to discuss the film. It shows  ladybugs stalking, capturing, killing and eating aphids--not necessarily in that order.

 What's unique about this film is the amazing photography. "All recordings were made with a special stereomicroscope and camera, magnified to a high degree," Wyss says.

We first saw the film on May 16 at the UC Davis Entomology Club meeting. Michael Parrella, entomology professor and associate dean of the Division of Agricultural Sciences, College of Agricultural and Environmental Sciences, narrated it.

You'll never forget the sucking and slurping noises as predators devour their  prey!

Pity the poor caterpillar. Here you are, minding your own business, and this tachinid fly comes along and lays eggs in your head.

Good day for the tachinid fly. Bad day for the caterpillar.

The tachinid fly, from the family Tachinidae, is frequently seen buzzing around flowers, like this one (below) in the Storer Gardens at the UC Davis Arboretum. The adults feed on nectar.

"They're parasites," said Lynn Kimsey, chair of the Department of Entomology and director of the Bohart Museum of Entomology. "They often parasitize Lepidoptera caterpillars by laying eggs in them."

They also lay their minute eggs on plants, which caterpillars ingest. The eggs hatch inside the caterpillar, killing it.

"Inside the victims, the larvae breathe free air by perforating the body wall of the host or by a connection to its tracheal system," write Jerry Powell and Charles Hogue in their book, California Insects.

It is not a pretty sight. But then again, tachinid flies aren't pretty--unless you're another tachinid fly.