We Interrupt This Afternoon for Dragonflies

Friday there was a break in the rain and cloud cover and I stepped out into the backyard to enjoy some sunshine.

I was not alone.  This huge dragonfly drifted out of the sky and landed on the schefflera not two feet from me, right in front of my sun-drenched face.  She rested there on the leaf's edge for minutes while I admired her from all angles.  She only flew off when I reached out and touched her.  When she rose into the sky I noticed that we (the dragonfly and I) were not alone.

The air was full of dragonflies, at least 10 of them flying over my property.  Why they were there soon became apparent as winged termites rained from the same airspace all around me.  Termite hatches are predictable on a sunny day after a rain, and sure enough here they were.  It's disturbing to see the large numbers of these reproductives emerging from your neighbor's roof, rising into the shining sky then fluttering onto your own sweet house made of wood.  However, the air was also full of dragonflies darting after and consuming these termites.

Birds were also feasting on the termies, notably the Black Phoebes.  A trio of them were making a ruckus fighting over the termite territory over my neighbor's roof.  Surely not all the termites get eaten, but it's good to know the dragonflies (and the birds) are on the job cutting down their numbers so our beams at least have a chance.

Thanks to Kathy Biggs for making her odonata key available online.  This big beauty that visited with me during the termite rain is a common green darner, Anax junius, female.  Common, but first time seen in my yard.

Los Muertos

Let's remember some souls recently departed from the garden:

EGG SAC SACKED
When I see ransacked green lynx egg sacs, the mother spider is usually not around; she was probably the victim of some predator, most likely a wasp. Female green lynx (Peucetia viridans) protect their egg sacs and young, so we assume the eggs are vulnerable to predation. I've seen ants and (believe it or not) a caterpillar entering the sundered sacs of these spiders but I did not see the perpetrator of these eggs' predation. Their are no survivors; donations in lieu of flowers are requested to your favorite unkempt garden association in the interest of promoting more spider habitat.

DEATH BY LIGHTSTICK
A wayward lightstick, left over and forgotten in the yard after our recent performance in a spook show, seems to have attracted this American cockroach (Periplaneta americana) from out of the bush to an unexplained death on the pavement. Actually, when this photo was taken the roach was still alive, its left foreleg occasionally twitching in slo-mo. It has since passed, likely and unfortunately survived by many offspring since we still haven't determined what aspect of our yard is supporting the newly arrived cockroach population. In memory of this we will be funding research into the use of lightsticks in roach control programs.

PUSHING DAISIES
This two year old marguerite daisy (Argyranthemum frutescens) was found malingering past its prime in an obscure corner of the garden so I yanked it out and tossed it away. It ended as it lived: The Garden Center selleth and the Green Waste Truck taketh away. In memory of the daisy's demise, we are requesting donations to our fall planting fund. By the way, I don't remember buying anything that cost $135 . . . that must be an old marking on that can . . . really!

Roach on a Lipstick

Roach. Its one quick syllable is a universal and codified symbol of filth, evocative of crowded apartments, dank streets on the wrong side of town, and restaurants with suspended health permits. It's a culturally loaded image: the roach skittering across the dimly lit and slightly sticky sidewalk in the evening rates an involuntary disgust response from me, even while spiders, worms, flies, mosquitoes and the roaches' closest relations mantids don't.

This is an American cockroach nymph (Periplaneta americana). These roaches are omnivores that can take advantage of habitats and food made available by humans. Common name notwithstanding the American cockroach originated in the tropics and prefers temperatures to be warm: mid 70s to mid 80s F. Our climate in So Cal usually fits the bill enabling periplaneta to be peridomestic here, meaning they may lurk around outdoors more often than coming inside our homes . . . yet another benefit to living here rather than somewhere colder. While they can and do eat a wide range of stuff (from what you would call food through leaf litter to fingernail clippings and soap) they can survive long periods without food, quite awhile without water, and a surprising amount of time with no air. Have you ever dispatched a roach down the toilet, only to have it resurface unflushed and only slightly flustered? Further adaptations of the cockroach are a remarkable escape velocity (human-sized equivalent of 200+ mph), a relatively long life (up to 2 years), and reproductive prowess (can produce an egg case with 14 or so eggs every week when conditions are prime). But just because roaches are relentlessly tenacious, fiercely opportunistic, and willing to force out their last ootheca in a primal procreational thrust even as they are being squished does not mean we must like them. Possibly this is because cockroaches were fully evolved differing little from what they are today long before humans were human, and even though it hasn't yet been proved roaches directly vector disease, and fewer than 10% of American humans are allergic to cockroach protein, still people prefer to dislike or even hate roaches more than other similar pests. They are, as stated above, iconic of filth and their possibly undeserved reputation dogs them as does their distinctive odor.

It's rare to see a roach around here, actually. In the fourteen plus years of my occupation of this patch of ground very few have reared their ugly hinged heads. So, we are a little concerned. Putting aside anthropomorphisms (this particular roach nymph strutted, nonchalantly groomed its antennae, stretched its jointed body jauntily; kind of freaked me out with it cocky air of confidence out in the broad daylight) and hasty overreactions (reaching for a can of Raid in knee-jerked revulsion) we've started a rational campaign to discover what these roaches are about, where they are breeding, why conditions suddenly encouraged their colonization of our yard. What has changed to support their presence at this particular time? We've had little rain but it's been quite humid. We've used some pyrethrid spray in the dog run to cut down on the flies recently; what effect might that have? It's been a year since the parkway was converted from lawn (not very good roach habitat) to slightly scruffy perennials (possible roach hangout, especially since the utility vaults are located there). I think the facts will reveal some adjustment we can make in our local environment to discourage the roaches before their population builds up to coup d'maison levels.

As for the lipstick, the plant this little guy with the bad reputation is seen on here is Aloe agavoides 'Lipstick'. Now there's a word that's developed a cultural one-two punch lately, although in this case it would accurately be called permanent lip liner since the red is not applied to the edges of the leaves but is embedded in the tissue of the plant. I guess "cosmetic tattoo" doesn't roll off the lips and inspire as nicely, and so we are expected to forgive this inaccuracy in labeling. Anyway, having rarely used lipstick if at all, I don't relate to the word--or even the actual cosmetic--and it has had little influence on me as a woman, voter, or even a gardener.

Info sources: NY City Department of Health & Mental Hygiene, Wikipedia, Eugene Garfield: the Cockroach Connection

Doing Our Civic Duty

So I was walking down my street to the post office and I noticed the fire hydrant in front of the abandoned Econo Lube n Tune was still festooned with brown widow egg cases. This building has been an eyesore in our neighborhood as long as I have lived here but recently has gotten worse because it is unoccupied as well as unmaintained. The boldness of this spider says to me she has no fear of being messed with since no one has passed her way with a rake, a broom, or a leaf blower since before she was born. We have noticed a population explosion of these spiders in the neighborhood, and I suspect plenty of them are harboring within the dark recesses of the abandoned garage. Even I, the spider-tolerater-if-not-lover, think too many of these venomous Latrodectus geometricus can't be a good thing. I think I shall complain to the city, and perhaps they will turn the thing into a neighborhood arts and crafts workshop. Ha. Or at the very least an ice cream shop. Ha ha.

So I walk past the hydrant and on the other side of it is the spider busily sucking the juices out of a rather large roach. And I thought, well, it goes to show you never can tell who is the bad guy. Thank you, L. geometricus for one less cockroach on the street. Meanwhile, this image of the roach (ever the symbol of urban decline) being consumed by a deadly spider perched on a piece of city infrastructure will certainly add pith to my plea to the city to develop a pocket park, if not a community garden, on the site of the crumbling garage.

Attack of the Thrips

About this time of year we are subject to various beasties and ghouls coming out to play. Some of these are the Cuban laurel thrips, Gynaikothrips ficorum, a large population of which lives in my neighbor's ficus forest. As is common during an October heat spell, a mass of them matured into adults today and flew off in search of new territory. Often they will alight on you if you're wearing bright green or yellow; I suppose those colors mimic the young foliage which would be a good place for these thrips to lay eggs.

The sun was obscured by smoke from the Silverado fire as the thrips emerged at midday, but apparently they were attracted by the lights in my office. Underneath each of my lights a pile of squirming black things started building up: on this ledger, all over the Sunset Western Garden book, and unfortunately on my desktop where I was attempting to work. Relatively easy to brush off of these surfaces, the thrips also sometimes get on people (like me) and bite. The 'Green Gem' variety of Ficus nitida was developed for its resistance to these thrips and is recommended for planting anywhere you might (for whatever perverted reason) want to plant ficus trees.

Are They Friendly Thrips?

Inside this abutilon bud you can see many small dark colored thrips. They moved quickly (squirreled, my husband would say) around inside there as I watched in the hot hot afternoon sun. There are lots of thrips species; you can check here for a pretty good low-down on them. Some of them are beneficial, friendly thrips that feed on pest species. You may be familiar with cuban laurel thrips that live in ficus trees and drop on you as you walk below. Sometimes they bite, thinking you are a ficus leaf.

As far as I could tell, what I have here on the mallow are "most other pest thrips" yet to be identified. The bad thrips suck plant juices, causing deformed and/or stippled leaves and blossoms and scarred fruits. The worst thrips transmit viral disease to plants.

Why they invented Spring Cleaning

Found a rich cache of insect carcasses in one of the windowsills. This photo does not do the resident spider's appetite justice: species present include boatman fly, green lacewing, fungus gnats, several species of moth, a crane fly and many too decrepit to be identified without DNA analysis. Also a nice spider shed, looks like a corner spider, Hololena curta.

Have you ever seen an earwig fly?

Let's revisit the house spider that lives just to the right of my front door. Last time, she had caught a stink bug. Which was a little weird since, while adult stink bugs fly, they don't fly onto the porch often. I figure the drama must have happened at night, with the bug having been attracted to the porch light but getting caught up in the webs instead.

These spiders are noted for their ability to prey upon creatures much larger than themselves that become snared in their messy webs. This time the house spider has captured a large, adult european earwig, forficula auricularia. These earwigs do have wings, but they seldom fly. A little front porch mystery ensues: The spider's lair is about 6 feet up and 8 feet away from the nearest typical earwig habitat (moist detritus near tasty tender plants). Did this earwig crawl at least that far over vertical and horizontal concrete surfaces to the spider's web, OR did it take a rare chance at flying, only to waste it on an unfortunate meeting with the house spider to the right of my front door?

Meanwhile, the spider has produced an egg sac (recycled stink bug?). More to come as this drama continues.

Gentlebugs, Start Your Engines

The sun has been shining at least half the day for the past week, so the bugs are getting active. They are everywhere, making up for lost time. These two are no gentlebugs, but notorious agricultural pests. These are thrips larvae newly emerged, feeding on this mallow flower. There were also some adult thrips in this flower, presumably laying more eggs.

This is a cabbage looper, one of the most despised agricultural pests in California. This one is innocently eating my pelargoniums: no harm, no foul, but these guys can really make a mess of these plants. The adult form will be a drab brownish moth. You can ID loopers by their 3 sets of prolegs on the abdominal segments. The so-called inchworms have only 2 sets, while other caterpillars have 5.

Once the pest species start increasing in numbers, you can count on the predacious and parasitic species (wasps, spiders, beetles, bugs, mites, flies, etc etc) to start showing up in larger numbers. So far I've seen parasitic wasps, predator wasps, a few ladybird beetles, syrphid flies, long-legged flies and predatory mites in small numbers, just getting their engines started.

The first warm day after a soaking spring rain

On the first warm day after a soaking spring rain, a girl's thoughts turn to taxes. It's hard to imagine anything more interesting than bugs, but circling through the self-referential worksheets in the 1040 booklet comes close. Especially with only a few short weeks left before the filing deadline.

But undermining my attention to deductions was termites. We're always thinking of termites more or less, given that we live in an old wood frame house in southern California; but on such a day as yesterday, the conditions were perfect and it's typical for the sexual or alate (meaning winged) termites to fly. I know this well, and buried not so deep under everything I had to do that day was the thought termites would swarm.

Still. I was trying to keep to my work schedule, and they were playing compelling music on K-Mozart that morning. But over the Vivaldi and whatnot I kept hearing a soft yet sharp snapping sound. Finally I put aside the tax worksheets to find out what the heck was making the sound. Over my neighbor's flat roofed house birds were gyrating and snapping up insects in mid-flight. Lots of birds. I recognize the black phoebe, and that made sense because I know these little pointy headed guys live to eat insects. And those other birds, the yellowish ones, I thought were lesser goldfinches.

But wait. Lesser goldfinches are strictly seed eaters, or so says my bird guide. So anyway, a black phoebe and some other birds were feasting on flying insects. Termites. Amazing what a satisfying snappy popping sound they make as they met their small dooms in the birds' bills. Really, it was transfixing to watch until I noticed that some of the migrating buggers were landing on my driveway and making their ways disturbingly close to my house and especially the wood patio cover.

Based on the spring swarming behavior these termites would be western subterraneans. But they really look (brown head, darker wings) more like drywood termites. And, subterraneans more commonly swarm out of the ground, not somebody's roof. Here's a crappy photo of one of them. When they alighted on the ground, they scurried around in a panic and were hard to photograph.

Whatever species they are the purpose of the swarming flight is to disperse, meet and mate, after which they shed their wings, and seek out some wood to lay eggs in. Which is not only a bad thing but, as far as I've found, it also isn't a tax deduction.