Owww!

A couple of weeks ago, Laurie noticed a bee-like insect flying into a hole between two paving stones. Examining it, we saw only a glimpse of the yellow and black stripes on its abdomen before it disappeared down the tunnel.

We've been watching for them since then, without seeing any. But today, I found another burrow. The hard way.

I was ripping out the latest shoots of the Japanese knotweed that refuses to die. One new stalk had popped up through a sheltering tangle of ivy, and I dug down through it, to get at the knotweed root. And got stung on a finger. It hurt, and I yelled, but foolishly stood there long enough for the angry householder to sting me again, on the arm. Then I ran, too late.

I didn't see what stung me, but it was probably a sand wasp, like this one, maybe. They are solitary wasps. (I'm glad I didn't disturb a paper wasp nest, with dozens, at least, of angry stingers.) The females dig burrows, where they bury a prey insect, into which they have inserted an egg. This will hatch and eat the paralzyed host.

The males don't sting, and the females are usually non-agressive; this changes if they feel their nest is threatened, say, by some careless weeder, scrabbling at the entryway.

The stings are painful. Very. My finger is still throbbing, swollen and red. I am unhappily aware of every single nerve ending from the knuckle to the nail, some 2500 per square cm. They are all complaining. The sting on the arm was less intense to start with, and now is just a red, sore swelling a couple of inches across. I took an anti-histamine and a pain pill, which may or may not have helped. I put a paste of baking soda on both stings, since that is what Mom used to do. And I packed both stings with ice. That did help, a lot.

Handy to know, for next time.

No photos today. I'm signing off, going to put more ice on my finger. 

More Colony Farm flowers and plants, tomorrow. Goodnight, y'all!

Dune bugs

North of Centennial Beach on Boundary Bay, trails lead through a varied landscape of dunes, marsh, and dry, dusty grasslands. This time of year, the gumweed is in full flower and fireweed is setting seed. On low ground, purple loosestrife (unfortunately) with its feet in the water competes with the cattails.

Fireweed fluff

In the heat of the afternoon, each flowering plant hosts its quota of feasting critters.

Copper butterfly, Lycaena helloides

At the side of the trail, bees and wasps were diving into holes in the sand. I tried to get a photo of one that was starting to dig from scratch, but in the brief time it took to focus the camera, it had dug itself in until only the tail end was above ground:

Going, going ...

A second later, not even a hint of yellow was visible. It had to come out again, so I waited, camera focused on the hole. Nothing, nothing, nothing; and then, from the other side of the clump of dried grass, six inches away, here it came in a burst, out and away before I could react. Sneaky bug!

The digger wasps are easily identified. They are fast flyers, zipping back and forth, never still; but their striped abdomens flash silvery-blue in the sunlight. They do back out of the same hole they entered by, at least. And they slowed down once they landed on a flower.

Digger wasp, Bembix, on gumweed. Love those green eyes! (There is a green leafhopper on the top petal, too.)

I think, however, that the tunneler was a bee, going by the fat yellow pollen bag it was carrying. Maybe one of these:

Bee on gumweed. Digger bee, Melissoides, possibly.

Another bee. Nice, new wings, four of them. Bee's knees.

Bee's nose? Notice the elbowed antennae.

Ladybugs tomorrow.