- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
To catch a cabbage white butterfly...
It was early October and a gravid praying mantis, almost ready to deposit her ootheca, was hungry.
She crawled behind a cactus in our yard, waiting for prey.
It did not take long. A cabbage white butterfly, Pieris rapae, fluttered down and made the fatal mistake of landing right next to Ms. Mantis.
The rest, they say, is...dinner.
Cabbage whites are in the news now because UC Davis distinguished professor Art Shapiro is sponsoring his annual Beer-for-a-Butterfly Contest. If you collect the first cabbage white of the year in the three-county area of Sacramento, Yolo and Solano, you'll get a pitcher of beer, or its equivalent.
Shapiro, a member of the Department of Evolution and Ecology faculty, has sponsored the “Suds for a Bug” contest since 1972 to determine the butterfly's first flight of the year. He launched the contest as part of his long-term studies of butterfly life cycles and climate change. P. rapae is emerging earlier and earlier as the regional climate has warmed, said Shapiro. "Since 1972, the first flight of the cabbage white butterfly has varied from Jan. 1 to Feb. 22, averaging about Jan. 20." (See Bug Squad for contest details.)
Note that the cabbage white butterfly is not an insect to treasure. As a caterpillar, P. rapae is a major pest of cole crops such as cabbage. UC Statewide Integrated Pest Management Program (UC IPM) says the cabbageworm is active throughout the year in California. "Cabbageworm larvae chew large, irregular holes in leaves, bore into heads, and drop greenish brown fecal pellets that may contaminate the marketed product. Seedlings may be damaged, but most losses are due to damage to marketed parts of the plant," according to the UC IPM website.
Indeed, if you grow cole crops, you're probably ecstatic about a praying mantis nailing a pest.
This mantis is a Stagomantis limbata, as identified by Lohit Garikipati, a UC Davis alumnus studying for his master's degree at Towson University, Md.
A predator and a prey.
On a wing and a prayer.
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
It was a good day for a praying mantis.
It was not a good day for a honey bee.
Here's what happened in the "Daily Insect News": a gravid praying mantis, Stagmomantis limbata, ambushed and ate a honey bee on a Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola, in a Vacaville pollinator garden.
In this image, of a mantis snacking on a bee, do you know which one is a native of the United States and which two are not?
The plant? It's a non-native. It's native to Mexico and Central America.
The honey bee? It's a non-native. European colonists brought the honey bee (Apis mellifera) to what is now the United States in 1622. Specifically, they arrived at the Jamestown colony (Virginia). Factoid: The Native Americans called the honey bee "the white man's fly." Another factoid: California had no honey bees until 1853 when a beekeeper brought his colonies to the San Jose area.
And the praying mantis, Stagmomantis limbata? It's considered native to North America, particularly prevalent in the southwestern United States. Commonly known as "bordered mantis, "bosque mantis," "Arizona mantis" or "New Mexico praying mantis," it is green or light brown and can reach three inches in length, according to Wikipedia.
We've seen mantids snag not only honey bees, but monarchs, Western tiger swallowtails, Gulf Fritillaries, skippers, syrphid flies and long-horned bees.
Never once--not once--have we seen this species grab and dine on a stink bug, milkweed bug or lygus bug.
Maybe a little menu planning is in order, Ms. Mantis? Maybe you should check out the UC Statewide Integrated Pest Management Program site to determine which is a pest and which is a beneficial insect?
Nah, just kidding...everything in the garden must eat to survive.
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
Last fall, a Stagmomantis limbata deposited her egg case, or ootheca, on a clothespin on our outdoor clothesline. On April 9, the clothespin sprang to life. Hundreds of nymphs emerged, scrambled away, and vanished.
Some wandered around on the clothesline. Some ate one another. Some survived to adulthood.
We saw only four in our pollinator garden: a female in the patch of lion's tail, Leonotis leonurus; a female on the Mexican sunflower Tithonia rotundifola; and a male and female in the African blue basil, Ocimum kilimandscharicum × basilicum 'Dark Opal."
They appeared, disappeared, and never re-appeared.
Meanwhile, our lantana, Lantana camara, proved to be a magnet for such pollinators as honey bees, syrphid flies, skippers and cabbage white butterflies, but nary a praying mantis.
Fast forward to the late afternoon of Sept. 25. There perched in the flood of red and gold blossoms was a gush of green, a beautiful gravid praying mantis, S. limbata, looking as if she'd never missed a meal and looking quite Mama-like.
How did we ever miss her?
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
Have you ever seen a freeloader fly trying to sneak a meal?
Since it's Friday Fly Day--and the best things in life are free, aren't they?--it's time to post an image of a freeloader fly.
So here's the story: a praying mantis was polishing off the remains of a honey bee, and uninvited dinner guests--freeloader flies (family Milichiidae, probably genus Desmometopa)--showed up. This genus includes more than 50 described species, according to Wikipedia.
Another time, a spider snagged a honey bee, and freeloaders arrived just in time to chow down. "Call me anything you like but don't call me late to dinner." They bring nothing to contribute to the meal except their appetites.
So did the predators chase away the freeloader flies? No. Absolutely not. Apparently they're too tiny a morsel to eat, and the freeloaders don't eat much. (See BugGuide.net's images of them.
Happy Friday Fly Day!
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
On Labor Day, a federal holiday, we celebrate the our country's labor movement, our gratitude, and our achievements.
But there is no Labor Day holiday for the worker bee, one of three castes (queen, worker and drone) in a honey bee colony. No Labor Day holiday for the queen, either. In peak season, she will lay from 1000 to 2000 eggs a day. A laborious task, to be sure.
Most will be worker bees, the most needed of the three castes. Worker bees perform such age-related duties as nurse maids, nannies, royal attendants, builders, architects, foragers, dancers, honey tenders, pollen packers, propolis or "glue" specialists, air conditioning and heating technicians, guards, and undertakers. The worker bees (sterile females) run the hive. They're the "you-go" girls, the "you-got-this" girls and the "go-to" girls.
No "atta boys" here. The boys, or drones, have one job to do: mate with a virgin queen (in flight) and then they die. (Or as the late Eric Mussen, UC Extension apiculturist emeritus and a longtime member of the UC Davis Department of Entomology and Nematology faculty, would add "They die with a smile on their face.")
It's a matriarchal society.
But life is short for the foraging worker bees.
"Worker bees live for approximately five to six weeks in the spring and summer," writes author and retired bee scientist and bee wrangler Norman Gary, emeritus professor of entomology at the University of California, Davis, in his book, Honey Bee Hobbyist: The Care and Keeping of Bees.
"Those reared in the fall live for several months--long enough for the colony to survive the winter--and are replaced by young bees in late winter or early spring," says Gary, whose entire apicultural career spans 75 years, from student to retirement 26 years ago. (He still works with bees.)
For the foragers, collecting nectar and pollen can be dangerous. Their searching expeditions and forays can take them four to five miles from their hive. Due to predators (including birds, praying mantids and spiders), pesticides and other issues, many do not return home at night.
They put the "severe" in persevere.
What's not to admire about the honey bee? All hail Apis mellifera, not just on Labor Day, but every day of the year. You go, girls! You got this!
(Editor's Note: Interested in becoming a beekeeper or learning more about beekeeping? Be sure to check out the UC Davis-based California Master Beekeeper Program, directed by Extension apiculturist Elina Lastro Niño of the UC Davis Department of Entomology and Nematology.)
