When we read “Lord of the Flies” at school, we were taught that the term referred to the devil. It turns out that both adolescent male humans and flies were given some bad press by William Golding. Journalist Rutger Bregman discovered that when a bunch of schoolboys were indeed stranded on a deserted island in the Pacific during the 1960s, they organised a very functional and caring little society that helped them all survive until they were rescued. And of course, flies far from being repulsive representatives of unadulterated evil, are providers of essential ecosystem services and can be very beautiful.
During last Monday’s heat, lots of flies of all sizes sheltered on our back porch. The largest looked to be about 20 mm long and were very reluctant to have their photos taken. Truly Lords (or Ladies) of the Flies I thought. There were quite a few beautifully marked flies, well bristled and still quite large at about 15 mm long. And these were very sedate – easily encouraged from the decking onto a leaf for relocation and portraiture on the way.
The very helpful site Insects of Tasmania unlocked the identity of this splendid dipteran for me – a Golden Tachinid Fly (Microtropesa sinuata). Whilst it’s hard to pin down much information about this species, Tachinid flies occur across the world and are mostly parasitoids. Unlike a parasite which lives with or in a host without killing it, a parasitoid will end the life of its hapless host. Tachinid flies lay eggs on or in hosts, mostly caterpillars. Pretty grim perhaps, even evocative of Golding’s Satanic vision. But they are essential components of ecosystems, preventing herbivorous caterpillars from decimating vegetation. Adults will usually have an important role as pollinators.
I’ve mentioned in previous posts how one particularly prolific Hardenbergia in our yard is a haven for invertebrates by day and night. Currently quite a few Garden Mantis nymphs (Orthodera sp.) patrol it. They often leap onto my hand or camera as I try to get shots of them. They will then taste their forelegs with the palps around their mouths to work out what I am.
In some years, we’ve had an abundance of tiny Spiny-legged Leafhopper nymphs on eucalypt leaves. This year I’ve seen very few. Whilst they don’t run away, they can be hard to get a good photo of as their main defence is to turn their spiky tails towards any perceived threat. I eventually got a photo of one from the front end. I know it’s not what’s going on, but it’s hard not to see this little cutie as having a very big smile.
I’m always pleased to find Red Velvet Mites in our bush and mostly they are scrambling around the leaf litter and hard to get a good view of. I found one recently on an old grass flower stalk. Again, very cute.