A cool robberfly, and a doppelganger

As always, click the photo to enlarge

You would not want to be a lesser bug and see this thing looking your way. It is one of the bumble bee-mimicking robberflies (Laphria thoracica [I should caveat my specific identity to say that I think it's that species. There are a few very similar Laphria species, and if I got it wrong, please let me know]). These large, highly predatory flies light out after flying insects, envelop them in an iron maiden death clutch, and administer the coup de grace with a syringe-like proboscis. Powerful neurotoxins are pumped into the victim, immobilizing it while other chemicals accelerate deterioration of the innards. The robberfly then sucks out the slush, using the proboscis as a drinking straw. All that'll be left is a withered husk.

I visited the legendary Cedar Bog last Friday, June 10, mostly to catch the end of the blooming of one of North America's most stunning orchid, the Showy Lady's-slipper (Cypripedium reginae). But there is always a wealth of subjects on display, and one I was watching for was the above robberfly. I saw a few, and as always had to try for some imagery.

Here's the robberfly in profile. Most anyone, upon seeing one of the bumble bee mimic robberflies in the genus Laphria, would think them to be just that - a bumble bee. But upon inspection, something isn't right, starting with their habit of sitting out in the open. A closer inspection reveals that the fly often quickly twists and tilts its head as it watches for potential victims. The remarkable mimicry may have evolved to give the predatory fly a measure of protection as it sits on its conspicuous perches. Many birds, notably excepting the Summer Tanager, probably learn to avoid big bugs that look like this. They don't want to get stung.

This insect was "hunting" in close proximity to the second robberfly that I located. And does it ever look like a robberfly, and acts very similar as well. But it is a type of flower fly in the vast family Syrphidae: the Orangeback (Pterallastes thoracicus). Flower flies are not predatory to my knowledge, instead living up to their name and visiting flowers for nectar and pollen. But boy, do the Orangebacks ever act the part of robberflies. They sit atop leaves, and make frequent loud buzzing flights as if they are after something. There is an aggressive element to them, and this one even strafed the significantly larger legitimate robberfly perched nearby. Perhaps its coloration, structure and habits are mimicry of the fearsome robberflies, although I don't know this for sure.

In an admittedly brief search, I could find next to no information about the Orangeback. I did learn that it apparently is rather uncommon and local. In the vast and ever-growing iNaturalist archives, there are only scattered - often widely so - records across the eastern U.S. They seem to become more common eastward and there are only about 30 Ohio records, mostly in the northeastern corner of the state. As conspicuous and easily seen as this insect is, there would no doubt be far more iNaturalist records if Orangebacks were everywhere. I pay more than casual attention to most insects, and I've only seen this species once before, in 2020, also at Cedar Bog.

If you know anything about the Orangeback and perhaps have some good sources to learn more, please pass them along.

Hanging Thief bags wasp!

I visited the famous Huffman Prairie last Thursday, mainly to photograph hummingbirds. The Royal Catchfly, Silene regia, is at peak bloom, and there are many Ruby-throated Hummingbirds. This plant is primarily pollinated by hummingbirds, and I can think of no better setting or situation in which to photograph these tiny birds. I did manage some nice images of hummingbirds face deep in the catchfly flowers, and will perhaps post some of those here later. CLICK HERE, though, and you can see my efforts from last July.

A prairie as rich as Huffman always has legions of INTERESTING THINGS, whether they be floral or faunal in nature. After packing up the big lens, I had a few minutes before I had to leave to go teach a macrophotography course, so I clipped on a macro lens and set out to see what I could find in a short time frame.

I didn't have to wait long. I'd barely got 30 paces from the Jeep when a strangely shaped, largish tan and black blob whirred by. Giving chase, I followed the UFO for a short distance, trying to place what I was seeing, when it had the good manners to alight on some foliage. Scroll on...

A "Hanging Thief"! Not only that, but it had bagged a large wasp! This is the aggregation of predator and victim that buzzed by me, and why I had a hard time placing it while on the wing.

The so-called hanging thieves are robberflies in the genus Diogmites. There are supposedly two dozen or so species in North America, and I'm unsure of the species involved here. Maybe someone can let us know. They've earned the name "hanging thieves" by their peculiar perching habits. Our star in this scene illustrates this perfectly. Note how it casually dangles from one leg, its "foot" wrapped around a leaf, while it deals with the wasp with its other five legs.

Robberflies typically hunt from perches, and when a suitable victim flies by, the robber launches and strikes it on the wing. It uses its long, spiny legs to embrace the prey in a death grasp, and administers the coup de grace with its long syringelike proboscis. Debilitating neurotoxins are pumped into the victim, nearly instantly disabling it. Other compounds cause a speedy liquefication of the innards. The robberfly retreats to a comfortable perch, as this one has done, and casually sucks out the sloshy contents with the same proboscis that dealt death to the hapless prey.

I will tell you right now, were these robberflies the size of swans, it would be the stuff of our worst nightmares. They are entomological Clint Eastwoods; true tough guys seemingly without fear and capable of taking down even the most dangerous of insects. I'm not sure which wasp species this hanging thief has captured, but it looks like it might be one of the spider-hunting species, which are quite tough in their own right and also pack a stinging punch.

But even a big wasp is no match for a fearsome robberfly.

A dangerous flower-stalker

The Amen of Nature is always a flower.

--Oliver Wendell Holmes

The ivory flowers of White Milkweed, Asclepias variegata, are irresistible to pollinating insects. And photographers.

I had a great day last Sunday down in Shawnee State Forest, birding with Carl and Karen Winstead. We found many species of birds, with good looks at choice feathered bits such as Cerulean, Kentucky, and Worm-eating warblers. Lots of plants, butterflies, dragonflies and other elements of natural history, too.

After the Winsteads and I parted ways in late afternoon, I took the long way out of the forest, stopping to shoot some interesting subjects, mostly plants and insects. And is often the case when loitering around insect-rich plant life, I was witness to a kill by a spectacular flower-stalking insect that hunts other insects.

A Silver-spotted Skipper, Epargyreus clarus, taps nectar from the small blossoms of Spiked Lobelia, Lobelia spicata. These large, easily identified skippers are quite common in Shawnee, and are especially smitten with the flowers of American Ipecac, Porteranthus stipulatus, which forms large drifts of flowers along favored road banks.

Another plant that is at peak flower right now is the New Jersey Tea, Ceanothus americanus.  This small shrublet often forms rather sizable colonies, and if it is interesting insect activity that you seek, hanging out around the New Jersey Tea is sure to result in some action.

The Lilliputian white flowers of New Jersey Tea are typically awash in small pollinators: beetles, flies, wasps, and native bees such as the one in this photo.

A platoon of Summer Azures, Celastrina neglecta, works over a lump of coyote scat, tapping minerals.  While fresh scat draws many butterflies, they also seek out flowers and the New Jersey Tea is a favorite for some of the smaller species, including this one.

A Summer Azure on a more photogenic backdrop than coyote scat, the flowers of Dogbane, Apocynum cannabinum.

I spent a fair bit of time observing some especially large New Jersey Tea colonies, attempting to photograph visiting pollinators. Many Summer Azures were regular visitors to the flowers.

At one point, an odd rather large shape whirred by, looking like it was trailing a small blue flag. Fortunately the unidentified flying object did not go far before settling onto a leaf. A robberfly! With a freshly captured Summer Azure! I crept in and managed a nice series of images of the spectacle.

It turns out that this species of robberfly is Asilus sericeus (thanks to Benjamin Coulter for the ID), and it is well known for attacking butterflies. One source states that it is not particularly common, and my experiences would bear that out. I tend to notice such things as large spectacular robberflies, and don't recall seeing Asilus sericeus before. As robberflies go, it is quite handsome with its rich golden tones.

Once again, the reality of flowers as potential death traps is reinforced. Robberflies and myriad other predators often lurk near flowers that support heavy pollinating insect activity, and routinely make a meal of the flower visitors. Brutal as this may be, it's all part of the circle of life.

A positive note about flies

In my warm-season wanderings, I notice flies. Lots of flies, everywhere, in all sizes, shapes, and forms. Mostly doing interesting things, and more often than not, very valuable things.

Flies get a bad rap. Ask your average person what comes to mind when "fly" is mentioned, and it'll usually be some variation of "yuck". What a huge injustice to the massive order Diptera, which is estimated to include one million species. It is only a tiny thimbleful of fly species that cause the all-important Homo sapiens issues - the overwhelming majority are beautiful insects that play essential roles in ecosystems, and mostly go unnoticed.

As I've been working through photo edits from recent excursions, I came across a few fly photos that show a trio of examples of fly coolness and value.

One of the most beautiful wildflowers of the North Country is Bird's-eye Primrose, Primula mistassinica. It grows in profusion on cold, gravelly shores of lakes Huron and Michigan at the northern tip of Michigan's Lower Peninsula, where I've been going annually for the past seven years.

The flowers of this diminutive species are irresistible photo subjects, and when I came across a drift of especially colorful specimens in Wilderness State Park last week, I naturally started in with the camera. It wasn't long before I noticed this tiny flowerfly in the family Syrphidae plunging into the pollen-laden depths of the flowers. A great many of our wildflowers depend upon insects to move pollen from plant to plant, and scores of species of flies play a major role in pollination.

Here's proof of fly pollination. This species, which resembles the common housefly but is decidedly not (although I do not know the species), is caught red-handed (or eyed) as it services another native wildflower, the Starry False Solomon's-seal, Maianthemum stellatum. This photo was made shortly after the one above it. The fly appears to be eating pollen from the anthers. Some of that pollen will adhere to the fly's body, and eventually be rubbed across the whitish bottle-shaped process in in the flower's center, which is capped by the stigma. Thus pollinating the plant. This fly and others of its ilk methodically brushed their way through many of these flowers, and certainly they play some role in the lily's pollination.

I made this image last Saturday in Shawnee State Forest in southern Ohio, and it shows the toughness of our big predatory robberflies. I was kneeling on a dry embankment along a remote forest road, photographing a very cool plant known as goat's-rue, Tephrosia virginiana. Suddenly I heard the buzz of loud wings, and this pair of medium-sized robberflies (about an inch long) comes roaring in, mating on the wing (I'm unsure of the species). They ran headlong into the web of an orchard spider, and seemingly became ensnared. In this photo, the pair hangs suspended from the silken strands, but apparently still quite intent on their amorous coupling.

The spider, which was hanging in the web, made no move to approach the ferocious predatory flies. Finally, I moved in a bit too close, the flies stirred from their trance and easily broke free of the web, flying to a nearby leaf to continue on. Even a venomous arachnid caused no worries for the six-legged beasts. Woe to any creature their size or smaller than crosses paths with one of these flies when it's hungry. Or perhaps interrupts them in flagrante delicto.

Robberflies are the Peregrine Falcons of the fly world.

A homicidal "bumblebee"

If you are smaller than, say, a hummingbird, you don't want to get locked in the sights of this beast. In fact, this is the LAST thing you'd want to find staring at you, hungrily.

I visited some friends' property in Hocking County last Sunday, and we had a tremendous field trip, full of interesting finds (more on that in a later post). At one point, we stood quietly in a woodland clearing, as I had just spotted a basking hairstreak butterfly. Suddenly, with a loud buzzing of the wings, this huge bumblebee mimic robberfly, Laphria grossa, flew in and took center stage.

I find these creatures amazing. Their resemblance to a fuzzy black and yellow bumblebee is uncanny, and that's likely what you would think it was from any distance. Move in, as in this photo, and the fly's jig is up. Huge eyes, only one set of wings, and a longish abdomen that the robberfly curls down in an arc. Finally, there's no peaceful lapping of nectar for this animal - it has a rigid syringelike proboscis mounted to its head.

When a victim - usually a flying insect - is sighted, the robberfly takes off with a noisy whirring of the wings, like a six-legged Sikorsky Skycrane helicopter. It quickly scrambles to its target, and basically enfolds the hapless prey with its long legs and abdomen. Then, the coup de grace is administered. That pipelike proboscis is jammed in, and the equivalent of battery acid is injected. The robberfly will flutter down to a perch with its prey, and when the victim's innards have softened to the consistency of a milkshake, the fly will suck it dry with its versatile proboscis, leaving little more than a dried husk.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again: DON'T come back as an insect.