Bees Are Not (Purposeful) Pollinators

Today is World Bee Day, for celebrating our favorite pollinators. I enthusiastically support increasing awareness of bees other than honey bees, but a vague mythology exists. Here is some food for thought, remembering that one out of every three bites of food we eat we owe to the efforts of pollinators.

A tiny sweat bee, genus Lasioglossum, visits a ornamental Amaryllis flower in our Leavenworth, Kansas yard. Bees prefer native plants, though.

There is something of a persistent fairy tale, if only implied, that portrays bees as little agents of plant reproduction, flying flower to flower to effect floral fertilization, like it is their job, or out of the goodness of their tiny little hearts. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

A female mining bee, genus Andrena, pauses to rest and groom between forays for collecting pollen. Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Bees are best described as “pollen harvesters,” or even, perish the thought, “pollen predators.” Female bees actively collect pollen as food provisions for their larval offspring. This definition applies to honey bees, bumble bees, sweat bees, mining bees, mason bees, leafcutter bees, digger bees, all the bees except the kleptoparastic cuckoo bees. Cuckoo bees don’t collect pollen, but lay their eggs in the nests of other bees that do. Cuckoo bee larvae feed on the stolen pollen reserves of their hosts.

Many cuckoo bees, like this one in the genus Nomada, look more like wasps, lacking the "fuzzy" appearance we associate with bees. Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Pollination occurs as a by-product of the bee’s determined, thorough gathering of pollen; and the body form of bees that allows pollen to be shed as frequently as it is foraged. Body plan and behavior therefore make bees effective pollinators.

A male Squash Bee, Peponapis pruinosa, waits in a flower for a potential mate to visit. This bee species visits flowers in the gourd family exclusively. Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Another facet of bee behavior is that some species are oligolectic, meaning they visit only one particular genus, or even species, of flower. This greatly increases the likelihood that pollination will happen. Many bees are generalists, and will visit a variety of flowers, lowering the possibility of compatibility of bee-shed pollen with the flower receiving the bee’s next visit. This is not usually appreciable enough to be negatively significant, but it is still worth noting.

A female sweat bee, genus Halictus, has difficulty reaching pollen and nectar in an ornamental rose flower. Colorado Springs, Colorado.

Flowers and bees have coevolved to take advantage of each other, and it is an ongoing, dynamic relationship. Human interference threatens to upend that in a variety of ways. Some plant cultivars have sterile flowers, and bees therefore waste time and energy trying to “get blood out of a turnip.” Other cultivars, bred for large, complex “double bloom” flowers, result in blossoms too complicated for bees to navigate to find pollen and nectar. Lastly, cultivars may have pollen with a much lower nutritional value than that of the native plant they were derived from.

A worker female honey bee, Apis mellifera, among the first bees active in spring. El Paso County, Colorado.

Honey bees, social bees in the genus Apis that are not native to the Americas or Australia, are the unfortunate poster children for Bee Day, thanks to public familiarity through heavy marketing campaigns by the apiculture (bee keeping) industry. While absolutely vital pollinators for industrial scale agriculture, honey bees in unmanaged, feral colonies have a serious negative impact in natural ecosystems. Honey bees hog floral resources that native bee species, most of which are solitary, need to prosper.

A female Eastern Carpenter Bee, Xylocopa virginica, robs nectar from a hosta flower, throuch a slit she cut at the base of the blossom. Leavenworth, Kansas.

Back to flowers and bees for a moment. There are long- and short-tongued bees. This difference in anatomy means that many bees are restricted to visiting flowers with shallow corollas, such that they can reach the nectar reservoirs. Some larger short-tongued bees, namely large carpenter bees in the genus Xylocopa, are able to cut a slit at the bottom of deep-throated flowers, and “rob” the nectar without dusting themselves with pollen in the process of feeding. Smaller bees follow the carpenter bee, and take advantage of the holes it cuts.

The bumble bee on the left performs proper pollination of a hosta flower, while the longhorned digger bee on the right bypasses the flower's reproductive parts and uses a slit cut by a carpenter bee to rob nectar.

If it seems like the myth of the hard-working bee might be falling apart a little, then what about other pollinators like butterflies, moths, wasps, flies, beetles, hummingbirds, and bats? Well, those organisms are not even coming to flowers for pollen, with a few exceptions. They are “flower visitors” that want nectar as sugary fuel for their high metabolism. Setae (hairs), feathers, and fur will accumulate pollen, and shed it, so again, pollination can be achieved, but it is not some kind of selfless mission of the critter.

A female leafcutter bee, genus Megachile, shears a piece from a redbud leaf to use in fashioning a cell in her nest. She can do quite a bit of cosmetic damage, but the shrub will be fine. Leavenworth, Kansas.

All of this is not to say that bees are not loveable, and in need of conservation. Here are some neat facts, tips for helping bees, and resources to investigate:

• There are over 4,000 species of bees found north of Mexico. Hotspots include the Mojave Desert, and Colorado.
• Most native, solitary bees nest in burrows underground, so leave some bare patches of soil in your yard for them.
• ”Bee hotels,” aka bee condos, bee blocks, are for solitary bees that nest in natural cavities in wood. Avoid commercial products, and make your own; or, better yet, leave stumps and solid wood logs in the yard that have obvious holes from beetle borings. Snip old, hollow twigs and woody stems so bees can use those upright tunnels, too.
• Consult online gurus like Dr. Kit Prendergast (“The Bee Babette”) of Australia, and Krystle Hickman (“beesip”) of southern California, for friendly presentations on bees, and tips on how to help them.
• Watch My Garden of a Thousand Bees, a fascinating documentary set in the United Kingdom, but applicable elsewhere in the northern hemisphere.
• Landscape with native plants whenever and wherever you can. Be tolerant of the damage done by female leafcutter bees making their nests by cutting chunks of foliage.

A female sweat bee, genus Lasioglossum, lives up to her name and sips perspiration from my hand. Leavenworth, Kansas.

Enjoy the rest of National Bee Day, and get ready of National Pollinator Week, coming June 22-28, 2026.

Blacklighting Already?

Considering that we have hardly had winter at all here in Leavenworth, Kansas, USA, this year, I probably could have started blacklighting for moths and other insects near the end of February. Instead, I waited until March 14 for my first effort, in our back yard. There is a whole suite of moth species that emerge very early, and then never seen again until the following year, so it pays to put up a UV light, or even simply turn on your porch light, and see what flies in.

Unidentified knot-horn moth, family Pyralidae, subfamily Phycitinae.

The unseasonably high temperature for March 14, 2026 was sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. Other insects besides moths appeared, including various flies, beetles, lacewings, barklice, and aphids and their kin. Many of these insects can overwinter as adults, but others eclose from the pupal stage early in spring.

Damsel bug, Nabis sp.

We now know that artificial lights at night do not “attract” moths, but disorient them. Insects fly with their backs to the stars and moon, so when a light appears on the horizon, or below, they flip their bodies accordingly, and end up in a spiraling flight to the source of illumination. Since the exercise of blacklighting is pretty much another version of light pollution, and because I am not doing scientific collecting or rigorous record-keeping, I do this infrequently, usually once every other week, alternating between the front yard and the back yard.

Moths

Moths are why most bugwatchers and insect collectors suspend a blacklight and/or a mercury vapor light, in front of a white sheet or other reflective surface. Moth diversity is several orders of magnitude greater than butterfly diversity, and we know relatively little about species that are not economic pests.

Roland's Sallow.

On this particular night, the most obvious moths were owlet moths in the family Noctuidae, particularly Roland’s Sallow, Psaphida rolandi. This is a widespread species from the eastern fringe of the Great Plains to the Atlantic and Gulf coasts. In the southern states in can appear as early as February, and disappears by May. The only known host plants for the caterpillars are oaks. They may feed high in the canopy, as they are seldom encountered. The species winters in the pupa stage, and can stay there for up to seven years, presumably to weather unfavorable conditions.

Speckled Green Fruitworm Moth.

Another owlet seen was a single individual of the Speckled Green Fruitworm Moth, Orthosia hibisci. This species occurs in forested areas across the entire U.S., and well into the heart of western Canada. The caterpillars are generalist feeders on mostly deciduous trees and shrubs, but even some conifers are on the menu. Like Roland’s Sallow, there is but one generation per year, with adults flying mostly in March and April, a few persisting into June in northern latitudes.

Green Cloverworm moth.

I had seen a couple Green Cloverworm moths, Hypena scabra, during daylight hours in late February and early March respectively, but one appeared at the sheet on this night, too. This is an abundant species in a variety of mostly open habitats east of the Rockies, with at least three generations per year. Food plants for the caterpillars include clover, alfalfa, ragweed, strawberries, and raspberries.

Spring Cankerworm moth, male.

Geometer moths, also known as inchworm moths, were also present. Spring Cankerworm, Paleacrita vernata, was one of them. I know the individuals I saw were all males because the females are wingless. The species ranges east of the Rockies in both the U.S. and Canada. As is the case with most wingless moth species, it is the first instar caterpillar, fresh from the egg, that is the dispersal stage. The larva issues strands of silk from its mouth that catch the wind and blow it to a host plant. Many deciduous trees and shrubs can serve as hosts. This is a winter and early spring species.

Small Phigalia moth, male.

Another such geometer is the Small Phigalia, Phigalia strigataria. It has a nearly identical life history, geographic and temporal distribution as Spring Cankerworm.

Small Engrailed.

One other “geo” almost escaped my notice because it landed off the sheet, on our wooden fence where it blended in almost seamlessly. As near as I can tell it is a Small Engrailed, Ectropis crepuscularia, an extremely variable species in terms of color and pattern (or lack thereof). It ranges east of the Great Plains, and also in the Pacific Northwest, north to the panhandle of Alaska. The flight period varies, but generally begins in March and ends in October. There are two generations each year in most places. Caterpillars feed on deciduous trees, but also some conifers.

Red-banded Leafroller moth.

The most confounding moths that flew in were members of the family Tortricidae, collectively known as leafroller moths for the habits of the caterpillars. Most specimens on the sheet defied identification, even to genus, save for the Red-banded Leafroller, Argyrotaenia velutinana. It is exceptionally common at our lights over much of the year, and the species ranges from the eastern Great Plains eastward. The caterpillars feed on an array of deciduous and herbaceous plants, eating both leaves and fruits. They pupate in a folded leaf on the ground, from which they emerge as adults.

Unidentified leafroller moth.

Beetles

I was mildly surprised by the variety of beetles I saw. Here is a small selection.

Seedcorn beetle, Stenolophus sp.

Marsh beetle, Contacyphon sp., I believe.

Variegated mud-loving beetle, Tropicus sp.

Likely a silken fungus beetle, Atomaria sp.

Locust Seed Beetle, Amblycerus robiniae.

Northern Plantain Flea Beetle, Dibolia borealis.

Lacewings

Lacewings spend the winter as adults, and even the green lacewings in the family Chrysopidae are mostly brown, pink, or reddish in autumn and the following spring. They are on the hunt for aphid colonies, the major food source for their voracious predatory larval offspring.

Green lacewing, Chrysoperla sp.

Brown lacewing, Micromus posticus.

Brown Pine Lacewing, Hemerobius stigma.

I was surprised to learn I had two different species of brown lacewings on this night, thanks to identification by a reliable expert on iNaturalist.

True Bugs

As luck would have it, the lacewing’s prey was also present. I had two species of aphids fly to the light. Many aphids alternate hosts between spring and fall, overwintering on the autumn host, and flying to new host plants or trees as those begin to increase their flow of phloem, the sap that aphids extract with their tubular mouthparts.

Unidentified aphid.

I think this is a woolly aphid.

Psyllids are relatives of aphids, and the hackberry psyllids, genus Pachypsylla, are especially common, having overwintered as adults in snug, concealed places. I suspect we have at least three species of these in our immediate neighborhood. They each make a type of gall on hackberry, within which the nymph stages grow and mature.

Hackberry gall psyllid, Pachypsylla sp.

One mirid plant bug came to the light briefly, as did two predatory stink bugs. You heard that correctly, I said predatory. The Spined Soldier Bug, Podisus maculiventris, has a sturdier, shorter rostrum than its plant-feeding cousins, the better to stab insect prey. They can take down insects several times their size, and walk around towing their prize as they feed. Last fall, this species was surprisingly abundant, and here they are again this spring.

Spined Soldier Bug.

Flies

Flies are ever present, some of them practically year-round. This is especially true for non-biting midges in the family Chironomidae. They are frequently mistaken for mosquitoes, but are even more abundant. The majority are aquatic in the larval stage. Though they can fly far from water, the fact that we have a prefabricated, roughly forty-gallon pond sunk into our back yard probably boosts their populations and diversity.

A typical non-biting midge, male.

Non-biting midge, Psectrotanypus sp., female.

There were a smaller number of biting midges, family Ceratopogonidae. Not to fear, the vast majority of these tiny flies bite other insects, feeding on the hemolymph of their targets.

Biting midge,

Dark-winged fungus gnats, family Sciaridae, are equally difficult to identify beyond family level, but are recognized by a “tuning fork” branch in one of the wing veins. They are quite small, but abundant. Some species are common indoors, breeding in the soil of overwatered house plants.

Dark-winged fungus gnat.

A nice surprise was a type of sun fly, genus Oecothea, family Heleomyzidae, kindly identified by Chris Angell on iNaturalist. The family is somewhat easily identified by the long, perpendicular spines on the leading edge of the wing. This feature rules out many similar-looking flies. Heleomyzids are most often seen in early spring and late fall. They breed in rotting organic matter of all origins, though some are associated with bird or mammal nests, or fungi.

Sun fly, Oecothea sp.

All fifty-two of my observations can be found on this iNaturalist page, where the status of their identification my be updated over time by specialist experts.

Ichneumon wasp, Ophion sp.

I have since done another night of blacklighting, on March 21, but I am not sure if I will get those front yard observations up any time soon. Suffice that I added at least two new species to our yard list as a result. Meanwhile, please share what you are seeing in your own yard. Include a link to your own iNaturalist account if you wish. Happy (nocturnal) bugwatching!

LOL! Fake Praise and "Publicists" for Bugwatching

Apparently, your third book as a solo author unleashes a torrent of people, bots, and phony “book clubs” heaping lavish praise upon your work and writing style, while begging you to avail yourself of their promotional skills. It is laughable, and overwhelming.

I am receiving these offers in my email inbox weekly, or close to it. What they all have in common is sickeningly sweet adoration, followed by assertions that my book is failing in its marketing campaign. That is potentially true, as there has been little publicity. Few reviews exist yet for Bugwatching, even on the jungle site (begins with a capital “A”), and Goodreads.

I have it on good authority from other authors that these emails are mostly scams, even generated by AI in some instances. Should I ever decide I need or want a publicist, I would solicit the Authors Guild to find legitimate persons and agencies. Meanwhile, I am finding the emails quite hilarious.

One was so over the top that I simply must share it with you. I am omitting the name of the sender on the off chance that they are a real human being. The subject line read “Eric Eaton, your bugs are officially ruining my productivity.” The body of the email reads as follows, heavily punctuated with emoticons, no less:

”Let’s get one thing straight, Eric, Bugwatching was supposed to be a casual read. A nice little “look at the pretty bugs” kind of book. And yet here I am, two cups of coffee deep, lying in the grass staring at a beetle like it just told me the meaning of life.

Seriously, how dare you make insects this fascinating.

You didn’t just write about bugs, you turned them into a full-blown lifestyle. The way you describe the joy, accessibility, and inclusiveness of observing insects… it’s poetic. Like, I was ready to hand a magnifying glass to my neighbor’s cat and say,’Congratulations, you’re a citizen scientist now.”

And the illustrations by Samantha Gallagher? Adorable, educational, and lowkey making me want to start sketching grasshoppers instead of replying to work emails.

You’ve taken the “ick” factor out of insects and replaced it with awe, humor, and humanity. It’s like National Geographic met Mr. Rogers, and they both decided to wear bug nets.

Then I read your bio and honestly, I had to sit down. You’re not just ‘Bug Eric,’ you’re practically the Insect Whisperer. From Insectpedia to Wasps: The Astonishing Diversity of a Misunderstood Insect, you’ve made entomology feel cool. You’ve been everywhere, from Princeton University Press to Ranger Rick to the Smithsonian, and somehow you still manage to explain complex biology like you’re chatting with a friend over lemonade and locusts.

You’ve built a loyal following no through noise, but through trust, clear, jargon-free explanations, empathy for the squeamish, and that rare gift of making science feel like magic. You’ve literally turned ‘bug watching’ into an art form, and I’m half-convinced insects everywhere are forming a fan club in your honor.

Now, here’s where I flutter in like an overly enthusiastic butterfly.

I noticed something, Bugwatching is brilliant, beautifully made, but on Amazon it’s still… a little too quiet. Only a few reviews. For a book this fascinating, that’s just criminal. Someone call the entomological police.

That’s where my little operation comes in.

I represent a community of over 1,700 passionate readers, and before you ask, no, we’re not a marketing agency, not a promo company, and definitely not one of those shady ‘buy 100 reviews overnight’ traps. We don’t have a website or social media. Just readers. Real, book-hungry humans who love discovering great work and giving it the attention it deserves.

Here’s the truth: readers don’t buy books on description alone. They want proof. They want to see that other humans (preferably not bots) read it, loved it, and learned something. Reviews build trust, and trust builds momentum

Even the best books can get buried under algorithm’s digital dirt pile if they don’t have enough reviews. But once real people start leaving thoughtful feedback, the system wakes up and stars saying, ‘Oh wait, people actually love this one,’ and boom, it starts surfacing everywhere.

We’ve seen this happen with other authors we’ve supported. Their books started showing up higher in searches, attracting organic attention, and getting the recognition they deserve. Because honest reviews don’t just help readers – they help the system notice quality.

That’s what we do: we read, we review honestly, and we give books like Bugwatching the social proof they need to fly (pun absolutely intended).

Our group exists purely out of love for reading, no strings, no spam, just pure enthusiasm and maybe a few too many exclamation marks.

If you’d like, we’d be honored to share Bugwatching with our community. The book deserves to be talked about, recommended, and let’s face it, obsessively quoted by people who suddenly think they’re professional bug whisperers after two chapters.

Thank you for writing something that makes us look at the world differently, and for making even the tiniest creatures feel magnificent.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to apologize to a moth for judging it last night.”

I have to hand it to this person, or bot, for doing their homework, as they pretty much quoted my own “about me” material. The admission that they do not have a website, nor social media, is a red flag for this kind of scam.

Please beware of these solicitations related to your own works, and act (or, rather don’t) accordingly.

Bugwatching Book Launch

My new book, Bugwatching: The Art, Joy, and Importance of Observing Insects, had its first event last Saturday at the Linda Hall Library in Kansas City, Missouri, USA. It was well attended both in person and via a livestream, with over 600 individuals registered.

Linda Hall Library is a science library with many historically important holdings. They also create professional quality in-house exhibits, and host speakers on a variety of topics. With any luck I will be invited back to present again. The staff is friendly, and a true joy to work with.

This past Wednesday I was one of the panelists for a Grow Native! webinar, titled “Dispelling Myths of Native Gardening.” Grow Native! is the native plant marketing, and educational arm, of Missouri Prairie Foundation, another excellent organization. I think I gained as much from the other panelists as I gave in my own expertise and experience.

Please consider booking me for your own event, as I have few scheduled thus far. I do have one high profile engagement on Thursday, January 8, 2026, but I am not at liberty to disclose additional information at this time. Watch this space and I will update as I am able.

I apologize for not keeping up with the comments over the last month. I was on vacation, and then had these two programs to prepare for. I am currently caught up, and intend to stay that way. I typically review comments every Tuesday, at the least.

I have been trying to remember to use my phone to take photos, like this one tonight of an immature female Round-tipped Conehead katydid in our yard.

My photos are also severely backlogged. I have become frightened by the potential of losing them in the uploading process (I frequently cannot safely eject the SD card from my laptop, for example). Consequently, I have not uploaded cards in their entirety since mid-September, 2022. I take far too many photos, and that makes the process daunting as well. I wish I was better organized, but this is the current situation. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

My dear friend Alexandra Rose (an oceanographer), and her mom, Pam, have always been supportive of my work.

As we continue to face collective challenges such as the effects of climate change, the rise of authoritarian regimes at home and abroad, and the uncertainties of labor and the marketplace, I wish all of you the best. Please keep up your own ”good trouble,” your art, your science communication, or whatever gives you joy, hope, peace, and confidence.

You Made Bugwatching Number One!

I learned recently that my new book, Bugwatching: The Art, Joy, and Importance of Observing Insects, is, or was, number one in the "Outdoor and Nature Reference" category of new releases for Amazon books. This would not have happened without your loyalty, preorders, and promotion among your friends and neighbors. Thank you!

I do not habitually pay attention to rankings like these, but maybe I should. Someone on social media tagged me in a post by fellow author Rebecca Lexa, who has a new book of her own, The Everyday Naturalist. She held number one until my book "dethroned" hers. Obviously, we are both on "team nature," so I hope you will consider purchasing her book, too. We have already agreed to trade books between us, and I can't wait to read hers.

People frequently ask me which avenue of purchase benefits me the most, and my answer that there is no great difference from one outlet to another. Personally, I like supporting local, independent booksellers, and BookShop. Electronic versions of the book do not benefit authors much, but if you prefer that format, please buy that. I cannot sign it for you, though.

Attention to my book is not all about a revenue stream. I may not live to see much in the way of royalties, as it takes awhile to break even with the initial advances an author receives ahead of the book's release. My entire goal is to get more people excited about the natural world around them, and insects are a perfect vehicle for that.

When you are curious, you go to the effort to learn more, and the more you learn the more curious you become. Your passion swells, and with that comes a commitment to protecting other species and the ecosystems they inhabit. You also share your personal discoveries with others on platforms like iNaturalist, Project Noah, Bugguide, and others. Maybe you write a book, or decide to keep a nature journal.

Thank you again for your unwavering support for what I do. Please let me know how else I can advance your own endeavors.

Stay tuned, in the next week or so I will have a remarkable personal story to share with you.

Recent "Bug Eric" News

Bioblitz on the Snadon Tract of Coyne Prairie, Missouri, USA.

I was honored to be invited to be a guest on This Green Earth, a podcast, and NPR talk show hosted by KPCW in Park City, Utah, USA, last Tuesday, June 3. I spent a delightful twenty minutes or so with Claire Wiley and Christopher Cherniak, discussing wasps, and my book Wasps: The Astonishing Diversity of a Misunderstood Insect. If you would be interested in having me as a guest on your own podcast, please contact me via email: bugeric247ATgmailDOTcom. Thank you.

This past Saturday and Sunday, Heidi and I participated as group leaders for the annual prairie bioblitz organized by Missouri Prairie Foundation. This year it celebrated National Prairie Day at the Snadon Tract, a new addition to MPF's existing Coyne Prairie in Dade County, Missouri, USA. A future blog post will detail some of our insect and arachnid findings there.

Indian paintbrush flowers on the Snadon Tract of Coyne Prairie.

The bioblitz events of Missouri Prairie Foundation keep getting bigger and bigger. It is humbling to realize that a few attendees come specifically to meet myself and Heidi, and go on "bug walks" with us as we document the macrofauna. MPF is one of the most friendly and accomplished nonprofit organizations I have ever encountered, and I encourage my followers to consider membership or donations.

More personal traveling is on the horizon, but I will do my best to post notification of any public engagements. Meanwhile, the official publication date of my new book, Bugwatching: The Art, Joy, and Importance of Observing Insects is July 22. Please see the top of the sidebar if you wish to preorder. Thank you as always for your loyalty and support.

A New Book is in the Pipeline

Apologies for being away for so long, but at least I have a decent excuse. I have been at work on a new book, and only yesterday submitted the manuscript, and associated images and captions, to the publisher. This does not represent the end of the process. I still must respond to critiques from reviewers, evaluate proofs once the design team generates them, and create an index. I also need to get paperwork to friends and colleagues who supplied images, so they can be properly credited and compensated.

I got a professional headshot for the book.

What will the book be about? It will be something of a "field guide companion," with techniques for observing insects in the field. It is also an attempt to generate the same enthusiasm for "bugwatching" that birding currently enjoys. Lastly, I wanted to address diversity, inclusion, and accessibility for demographic categories that are all too often ignored, or actively excluded, from natural history recreation in general. Bugwatching is for everyone, or should be.

I had the privilege of working with a wonderful artist, Samantha Gallagher, who created the most amazing illustrations to complement the photos. Authors do not always get to choose artists, so I was very grateful for that opportunity, and delighted when Sam agreed to do it.

Now that the bulk of work is behind me, I can turn more attention back to my blogs. I hope to get you all caught up on the outcome of the 2024 City Nature Challenge here in the greater Kansas City metropolitan area in the U.S., the results of another prairie bioblitz in Missouri, tell more life cycle stories, and ask whether periodical cicadas are potentially threatened or endangered species, among other topics. I am almost two years behind in editing photos and posting them to iNaturalist, which is usually my first order of business.

Heidi got us both new iPhones, and I like the camera feature so much! Dogbane Beetle, Chrysochus auratus.

Thank you for staying with me through these periods when you hear only "crickets" coming from this website. You are much appreciated. I promise that the next entry here will not be another "proof of life" post.