A flameskimmer dragonfly, Libellula saturata, touching down. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)

In his essay, The Decay of Lying (1889), Irish poet and playwright Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) wrote: “Life imitates art far more than art imitates life,” adding  “the self-conscious aim of life is to find expression, and art offers it certain beautiful forms through which it may release that energy.” 

Take the case of a mural on Main Street, Vacaville, the work of Cheyenne Renee Marcus. The artist, based in Covington, Va.,  painted the mural in 2022 with plans to paint 50 murals in 50 states. All in small towns. (See the Vacaville project on YouTube)

Her mural shows a young girl in a billowing blue dress blowing the seeds off a dandelion--perhaps she's making a wish?--while a flameskimmer dragonfly zigzags away.

The dragonfly is firecracker red, in sharp contrast to the light blue dress.

The mural is located at 444 Main St.-- actually in the alley--on the wall of a building now occupied by a wine bar, Main Grape. 

One thing's for sure, that flameskimmer is a main attraction. On a cold, wintry day, it's a burst of joy and spirit, much like the little girl blowing the seeds off a dandelion, destination unchartered, but the making of a promise.

The hanging pot of porcelain flowers. A female praying mantis is on the ceiling. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)

So, how do you beat the competition? You defeat 'em and then you eat 'em.

That's what Vacaville resident Mike Castro witnessed recently.

The hot spot: A hanging pot of porcelain flowers, aka wax flowers (Hoya carnosa). When the flowers finished blooming in his garden, Castro transferred the hanging pot to his patio.

Castro soon observed a female and a male mantis "getting busy" (mating) on the hanging rope, but the male did not lose his head.

A discarded leg of the losing praying mantis. The winner ate the loser, except for the legs and wings. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)

We showed Castro's images to praying mantis expert Lohitashwa "Lohit" Garikipati, a 2012 UC Davis entomology graduate who is studying for his master's degree in biology it Towson University, Md., with advisor Christopher Oufiero, with plans to obtain his doctorate.

"What he observed is really cool actually!" Garikipati wrote in an email. It's an example of female territoriality. Often times before it gets to this stage, one female (usually the more defensive individual) will attempt to display or throw bluff strikes to deter the aggressor--in this case it is likely a case of beneficial happenstance for the victor; she has less competition now and made a meal of the competitor. What often happens more typically, though, is that the more territorial individual will simply decapitate or de-arm a competitor,  but will not consume the entire mantis. I've seen it a lot thanks to captive observation--mantises do seem to recognize conspecifics, or at the very least that an insect is a mantis. Some species even have species specific mating displays!

"Such examples of territoriality can be hard to observe in the wild, but this is one such example!" Garikipati noted. "And for adult females later into the year. competition is indeed stiff and everything that can help them survive and lay eggs is a benefit."

The PPB (Potted Plant Battle) brings to mind the 'ol Western movie phrase, "this town ain't big enough for both of us" which appeared in:

• The Virginian (1929): "Trampas: "This world isn't big enough for the both of us!"
• The Western Code (1932): Nick Grindell: "This town ain't big enough for the both of us and I'm going to give you 24 hours to get out. If I see you in Carabinas by this time tomorrow, it's you or me!"
• A song, "This Town Ain't Big Enough for Both of Us," written by Ron Mael and performed by American pop band Sparks, for their studio album Kimono My House (1974).  

Researchers, however, attribute the first recorded usage of the phrase to Emerson Hough's 1926 novel, "The Covered Wagon."  Jack McPherson, a character in his book, proclaims "There ain't room in this here wagon train fer both of us, an' one of us has got to hit the trail." 

Flash back to Vacaville: one female praying mantis did "not hit the trail" when warned--and lost the fight, her head and her body. 

And probably her dignity...Girls will be girls?

A monarch caterpillar munching away. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)

The seventh annual International Monarch Monitoring Blitz will take place Friday, July 28 through Sunday, Aug. 6. 

That's when community scientists from across North America--United States, Canada and Mexico--will "come together with the shared goal of helping to protect and conserve the beloved and emblematic monarch butterfly," the organizers said. "Data collected by volunteers each year support trinational efforts to better understand the monarch butterfly's breeding productivity, range, and timing in North America."

So, during this 10-day period, we will look for monarchs, as well as eggs, caterpillars and chrysalids, and load the data via the Trinational Monarch Knowledge Network, "a central repository that, in combining data from various sources, assists researchers in performing large-scale temporal and spatial analyses. The data collected by volunteers help researchers answer key questions about monarch butterfly and milkweed distribution, timing of reproduction, and the use of natural resources. In turn, this information helps conservationists identify and prioritize actions to conserve the species."

Ready to participate? All you have to do is share your data with one of the community science programs below: 

• Journey North (journeynorth.org)
• Mission Monarch (mission-monarch.org)
• Monarch Larva Monitoring Project (mlmp.org)
• Naturalista (naturalista.mx)
• Correo Real Program/PROFAUNA A.C. (https://www.correoreal.mx/)
• Western Monarch Milkweed Mapper (monarchmilkweedmapper.org)

The Blitz is organized by the Trinational Monarch Conservation Science Partnership, a collaboration of organizations, including the Commission for Environmental Cooperation, Insectarium/Montréal Space for Life, Environment and Climate Change Canada (ECCC), the Monarch Joint Venture, Journey North, the US Fish and Wildlife Service, the Xerces Society for Invertebrate Conservation, PROFAUNA AC/Correo Real Program, and Mexico's Comisión Nacional de Áreas Naturales Protegidas (Conanp).

Last year's effort resulted in 5988 observations, 2698 participants from 75 states and provinces, 19,222 monarchs observed, and 68,847 milkweeds examined. 

Also, you can sign up for the Commission for Environmental Cooperation's newsletter here.

We remember that in 2016, our Vacaville pollinator garden thrived with 300 monarch eggs and caterpillars. The most exciting event? On Monday, Sept. 5, 2016 a citizen-tagged monarch fluttered into our yard from Ashland, Ore. This was part of a migratory monarch project headed by entomologist David James of Washington State University, my alma mater. Community scientist Steven Johnson of Ashland tagged it on Aug. 28, numbering it A6093.

"So, assuming it didn't travel much on the day you saw it, it flew 285 miles in 7 days or about 40.7 miles per day," James told us. "Pretty amazing. So, I doubt he broke his journey for much more than the five hours you watched him--he could be 100 miles further south by now." (See Bug Squad blog)

Now, to keep our eyes open for Danaus plexippus--the adults, eggs, caterpillars and chrysalids--during the July 28-Aug. 6 blitz.

Zero sightings in our yard so far this year!

Call it “The Battle Over a Tree Hollow."

Feral bees have occupied—and abandoned—a sycamore tree cavity in a Vacaville neighborhood for at least two decades. They occupy it in the spring, summer and fall, and then the colony either absconds or dies back in the winter. 

When this winter proved exceptionally cold and rainy, a clever squirrel moved in. 

A place to stay warm. A perfect sleepy hollow.

Then in early April, scout bees from a spring swarm begin circling the tree. Wait! There's an intruder inside.

Squirrel: "Occupied! No vacancy!"

Bees: "Out, it's ours!” 

Squirrel: “Finders, keepers! I was here first!” 

Bees: “But it's ours! This is our bee tree!”

Cars speed by.  Residents trudge by with leashed dogs. Birds chirp. A hound bays uproariously.  The sleepy squirrel pokes his head out occasionally as if to ask “What's all the ruckus about? Can't a squirrel get some sleep?” 

More bees buzz around his head.

“Occupied!” Mr. Squirrel shouts again. “No vacancy!” 

The score: Squirrel: 1. Bees: 0.

Then one mid-April day, the tenant vanishes. 

The bees quickly move in. Call it a "hollow victory" for the bees.

The score: Bees: 1. Squirrel, O.

Now a queen bee is busily laying eggs. The workers are performing their age-related duties: nurse maids, nannies, royal attendants, builders, architects, foragers, dancers, honey tenders, pollen packers, propolis or "glue" specialists, air conditioning and heating technicians, undertakers, and guards.

Who was it who said "Everything works if you let it?" The American rock band, Cheap Trick. 

So true.