Beasts in the Beauty
Sharon Moore
I love to take pictures of flowers, native or domestic. Their fascinating shapes, colors, and textures make great photographic subjects. I really got hooked on the pastime during the Pandemic. Confined to my own backyard or the occasional neighborhood patch of wildflowers, it was a way to curb afterwork anxiety and ease feelings of isolation. To my surprise, I found there’s a whole universe in small floral spaces. These spaces are populated by different “wee beasties”—some ornate, some brightly colored, some creepy or kind of terrifying, but never boring.
Springtime, I like to go peering into our native prickly pear flowers (Opuntia engelmannii var. lindheimeri)—a variety named after Ferdinand Jacob Lindheimer (1801-1879), often called the Father of Texas Botany because of his work as the first permanent resident plant collector in Texas. What I find within the bright yellow or orange petals might be a familiar pollinator like the domestic honeybee wading in pollen, or it might be something completely unexpected.
The exotic-looking Kerns flower scarab (Euphoria kernii) with its calligraphy-like markings is also a pollinator. This beetle can be found blissfully wallowing in the glossy cactus blossoms or in our native prickly poppies (Argemone aurantiaca). A member of the “flower chafers,” this particular beetle feeds on pollen and nectar. Beetles, in fact, pre-date our more familiar bees and butterflies as pollinators, having evolved along with the first angiosperms (flowering plants). Some plant species with ancient lineages, like the magnolia, are still pollinated primarily by beetles. The Kern’s flower scarab has another unusual characteristic. Before it gets to lounge around in flowers, it occupies much more humble surroundings. Its larval stage is spent in the lowly domain of packrat middens or pocket gopher mounds.
Beetles are a huge part of the planetary ecosystem. They alone make up approximately 40% of the named insects. They occupy many niches, so not all are beneficial pollinators. When I first saw this next guy scampering around on one of my roses, I thought “Great! A green lady bug!” Don’t be fooled. This chartreuse critter is a cucumber beetle (Diabrotica sp.). To my dismay, these beetles can cause plant damage with their foliage feeding and transmission of viruses and bacterial wilt. I was hoping that he’d fly away soon.
Another colorful insect and potential pest is the nymph stage of the Aztec spur-throated grasshopper (Aidemona azteca). When I found them on some dried-up lavender stems in my garden, I couldn’t help but admire them. Their range includes Central America, Mexico, and the Southwest, yet this was the first and only time I’d seen them. Like beetles, grasshoppers have an ancient lineage. Theirs stretches back to the early Triassic. They evolved to be important herbivores and can leap 20 times the length of their own body. I’m happy as long as they don’t leap on me or eat my tomato plants.
Along with the pollinators and pests, there are hunters to be found in the flower universe. For example, there’s this pale-looking crab spider (Family Thomisidae) I found hiding in my frilly antique rose.
These spiders are chameleon-like, with the ability to change their color—white, green, yellow, or pink—to match the flower they are on. These commonly known “flower spiders” are ambush predators. They can be helpful by taking out insects that damage your plants. Conversely, they can also capture and kill the pollinators you want, such as the Southern dogface butterfly (Zerene cesonia) on honeysuckle flowers (Lonicera ciliosa), or that gray hairstreak butterfly (Strymon melinus) on a Mexican Hat (Ratibida columnifera). I actually saw the crab spider killing a Red Admiral butterfly (Vanessa atalanta) a couple days after I took its picture. Not my favorite moment.
Roses seem to be a favorite hideout for arachnids in my yard. A few days after the crab spider vacated the premises, a ghost spider (Hibana sp.) showed up. Ghost spiders, like crab spiders, can change their color to match their environment. This helps them hunt and also avoid predators. They are primarily nocturnal and are known for spinning intricate webs.
In a twist, this hunter may have become the hunted the next day. I spied a bristle fly (Family Tachinidae), which looks just like an old movie villain with its black spiky body, probing around the rose with the ghost spider. These flies eat nectar and can act as pollinators. They are also parasitic on many different types of arthropods, including spiders. It certainly looked like it might be trying to scent its prey.
It’s been surprisingly difficult to find detailed information on many insects and arachnids that show up in my garden. They just aren’t as charismatic, I suppose, as the other denizens, such as butterflies, frogs, and lizards. What I have found has been interesting and sometimes gruesome. At the end of the day, it’s nice to leave the drama behind and just hang out, like this katydid nymph (Scudderia sp.) on a colorful lily.
More photos of flowers and garden critters courtesy of Sharon Moore: