Tachytes guatemalensis

Wasp Watching

An accidental encounter with a paper wasp underscored the importance of mindfulness. It also brought into focus a little-known truth: Humans live and walk among an extraordinary number and diversity of wasps every day without ever getting stung by these remarkable creatures.
The vast majority of wasps, like this one in the Tachytes genus, are solitary and very unlikely to sting. Most make small, inconspicuous nests in the ground.

If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to be stung on the tongue, wonder no more: I have the inside knowledge, my friends. And there’s one wasp out there who has the inside knowledge of my mouth.

That’s right: A few weeks ago, I was reading in our treehouse when I took a swig of coffee without looking. The next few seconds were an explosion of shock and regret, with time speeding up and slowing down as everything happened all at once: a terrified wasp zooming around places where no winged creature should ever be, primordial signals of pain firing at my brain, and a projectile-splashing of coffee-soaked wasp back out onto the table. The wasp sat stunned as I ran for the screen door and dashed into the house, leaping up and down as if on fire.

Ice cubes were my relief for the rest of the day, and, I’m happy to report, the paper wasp was fine. A few minutes later, I found her getting her bearings on the pages of my book, and I brought her onto the deck, where she promptly flew away.

A Northern paper wasp (Polistes fuscatus) nectars on goldenrod. I assume the one who ended up in my coffee was attracted to the sugar.
A Northern paper wasp (Polistes fuscatus) nectars on goldenrod. I assume the one who ended up in my coffee was attracted to the sugar.

What’s most remarkable about this episode is that it represented only the second time in our entire 24 years of living among wildlife—particularly all manner of insects—that I’ve been stung. And the first time was no less provoked. Years ago, despite repeated reminders from my husband, Will, to avoid steering a wheelbarrow near an underground yellow jacket nest, I became absorbed in my daydreaming and forgot. Only one wasp got me, but for good measure she flew up my shirt and went right for a nipple.

Who wouldn’t lash out when they suddenly land in the mouth of a monster or their babies are threatened by the crushing feet and machinery of a massive predator barreling over their home? These animals were fighting for their lives. I’ll never begrudge them for that.

Most Wasps Are Very Unlikely to Sting

Considering the sheer number and diversity of wasps living among us humans, such incidents are surprisingly uncommon. The stings I received were from social wasps who make large nests together that they then need to defend. Our culture tends to pay attention to whoever makes the most noise, often at the expense of the quieter introverts, and so it is with insects too. The vast majority of wasp species are solitary and mostly hidden from sight, typically creating an underground nest as furtively as possible.

Many wasp species are parasitoids, using an organ called an ovipositor to lay eggs in other insects; hatching wasp larvae then feed on those host insects. Some wasp species have modified ovipositors that allow them to sting and inject venom into grasshoppers, caterpillars, spiders and other arthropods before carrying the ill-fated prey back to their nests. None of these lone actors are likely to go after people. “Solitary wasps have little incentive or time to use their valuable venom to defend their nests,” writes Heather Holm in Wasps: Their Biology, Diversity, and Role as Beneficial Insects and Pollinators of Native Plants. “They reserve their venom for subduing their prey so they can provide a paralyzed, fresh, and live food source for their larvae.”

As ancestors of (and sisters to) bees, many wasps visit flowers as adults and transfer pollen around in the process. Their lifestyles and skills are so varied that, as some naturalists and writers are fond of saying, when it comes to a variety of much-needed ecosystem services, “There’s a wasp for that.”

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At this time of year, a stunning array of these insects is hard at work in our habitat: mason wasps, great golden digger wasps, organ pipe mud dauber wasps, blue-winged wasps, gold-marked thread-waisted wasps, cicada killer wasps, rusty spider wasps, cuckoo wasps, Trogus wasps, and more. We walk freely among their favored plants—the mountain mints, bonesets, burnweeds, black cohosh, and swamp milkweed—saying hello to the wasps and knowing they’re there not to hurt us but to drink nectar and gather insects for their young.

A Peek into the Lives of Solitary Wasps

Rarely have I been able to witness solitary wasps creating nests in the ground, but recent disturbances to our patio garden—where I had to move some plants in the spring to accommodate a deck repair project—gave us a front seat to the activities of Tachytes guatemalensis, known also as dark grasshopper-hunting wasps. It started as these things often do, with a frenzy of fliers zipping back and forth from the ground to their perches on leaves and stems. Those were males who, like many of their solitary bee counterparts, search for mates soon after they emerge. Though some people find such frantic activity disconcerting, male wasps lack stingers and pose no threat at all.

As the wasps have gone about the business of building and outfitting homes for the next generation, I’ve sat close by to watch them mate, dig, and carry paralyzed grasshoppers into their nests. They seem to ignore me completely, performing orientation flights in full view, flying in ever-wider circles to memorize visual landmarks—a violet leaf, perhaps, or a pebble or a twig—that will help them find home again. One day Will spotted a mother wasp fly past, clutching a grasshopper. We watched as she struggled to subdue the much larger insect, all so that her babies would have something to eat when they hatch.

It wasn’t long before I began noticing some rabblerousers hanging around the nest, especially satellite flies just waiting for their chance to enter and lay eggs on or near the grasshopper prey. If they’ve been successful in their sneaky endeavors, their fly larvae will eat all the provisions that were intended for wasp babies, and no wasps will emerge from the nests next summer. I can’t help but feel sorry for the wasps, but I know the flies have to eat too.

The Hard Work of Digging Out a Nest

After a torrential rain about a week ago, I worried that the wasp nests would be washed out. But within a couple of days the tumuli, or excavated mounds of soil, had been refreshed, and more Tachytes wasps hovered about the area. A walk toward our meadow revealed that the storm had helped create habitat for even more wasp species. There in the middle of the path, where six inches of water had fallen within 24 hours and washed away the woodchips and pine needles, a great golden digger wasp was excavating a home for her babies too. Once hatched, they’ll feast on katydids and crickets captured and stowed away by this industrious mom.

Looking back at my video of the great golden digger, I see—or rather hear—something I hadn’t noticed while filming. She appears to be sonicating to mine her nest. (Watch the video above to see if you can hear the sounds, which are detectable even amid the noise of planes and neighbor’s machines.) I’ve listened to organ pipe mud daubers use the same mechanism, which involves contracting thoracic flight muscles to create high-frequency vibrations for gathering mud balls and molding them into nest tubes. (Read more in “The Surprising Life of a Gentle Mud Dauber Wasp.”) Mining bees who excavate sand do the same, noted Heather Holm when I interviewed her for my book Wildscape: “Because their nest entrance just collapses when they leave, they will sonicate head first down through the loose sand to get into their burrow.” Bumblebees and other native bees also make waves when foraging, vibrating their flight muscles to shake flowers that won’t release pollen grains without a bit of a ruckus.

Coexisting with Wasps

I’ve long since recovered from my wasp stings, and I hope the wasps fully recovered too. Though I don’t wish to repeat the experience, they reminded me of the importance of mindfulness. It’s usually easy to avoid a social wasp nest if they’re not directly in your path. When yellow jackets have made their homes in the ground, we give them a wide berth, knowing that their predatory ways are helping to keep a balance in the garden. When baldfaced hornets create nests in shrubs or trees, we maintain a respectful few feet of distance and have even had dinner parties nearby with no issues; they became agitated only once when I got too close to photograph their nest entrance. (Read more in “Happy as a Hornet.”) We also know the nests aren’t permanent. Later in the season, most of the wasps will die, leaving only new queens to begin the process again a year from now, in new spots of their choosing.

In the meantime, for extra precaution, I carry coffee outside in a metal mug with a plastic lid. I call it my Wasp Coexistence Cup, a simple way to keep wasps out of my mouth and in the garden where they belong.

Wasp coexistence kit
Everyone should own a Wasp Coexistence Kit, which includes cups with lids as well as books to educate ourselves about the natural history and amazingness of wasps.
Recommended Resources

Wasps: Their Biology, Diversity, and Role as Beneficial Insects and Pollinators of Native Plants

Wasps: The Astounding Diversity of a Misunderstood Insect

[Credits: Video clip of wasp subduing grasshopper on an ostrich fern: Will Heinz. All other photos and videos: Nancy Lawson.]

 

 

30 thoughts on “Wasp Watching”

  1. Thank you SO MUCH for educating others about wasps. I’m on a few gardening websites where people panic if they have bees, wasps, or hornets in their yard, and for too many, their first inclination is to kill them. It saddens me in angers me. Why have a garden if you don’t want any wildlife in it? It seems cruel.

    I have been gardening on my property since 2006. I welcome all pollinators. I’ve only been stung a few times. Once because I pulled a weed and there was a yellow jacket nest in the ground. And just two days ago I stepped on a bee with my bare feet, and it stung me twice in the arch. I actually felt bad for the bee because I would fight back if something were crushing me too.

    Thank you for being a Humane gardener. And teaching everyone about the importance of all pollinators.

    Peace,
    Patricia

    1. Thank you too, Patricia! I wish more people were like you. It pains me to see how people treat wasps too. It’s just such an unthinking reaction to an animal simply trying to defend herself. I hope you get the chance to watch the videos — I forgot to make them public on YouTube before I posted this, so I don’t think they showed up! Hoping they are there now. 🙂

  2. Walking around my yard, I gasped, at the sight of a bald-faced hornet’s nest amongst some shrubs. First time I’ve seen one up and close. I was able to get a short video of them flying in and out of their entrance, and then I continued on to my to do’s. Now I’ll just have to make sure to walk a few feet away for the next 2 months or so. It is about 4 feet away from the sidewalk, but the entrance to their nest faces my driveway, so I’m not too worried. Now I know why I’ve seen so many throughout my gardens!

  3. My next door neighbor and I found bald faced hornet nests high up in trees in both our yards yesterday (Wilmette, Illinois). We had noticed them flying around in our gardens. I feel better knowing where they live as their nests are well concealed and now can avoid them and warn visitors. When my neighbor first found hers earlier in the day, I immediately sent her a copy of your article on bald faced hornets, which I send to everyone who mentions them. Here’s a link to a video (by me)… https://share.icloud.com/photos/00aOx_UHugr5wp1JO9ngu0mcA

  4. Wow! What an amazing experience and how beautifully written. I’m glad I’ve had the chance to visit your sanctuary so I could see the places you talked about in my mind’s eye. Thank you for all the wonderful lessons you share with us.

  5. Thank you for that article. I enjoy watching the various wasps, along with the bees and hoverflies, that go about their business in my gardens. The frequent yellowjacket visitors to our patio lunches don’t bother us. We find that putting a piece of burger (or whatever else we happen to be eating) aside for them keeps their attention and provides for a degree of mealtime entertainment. It’s fascinating to watch them diligently sawing away at a piece of food and then flying away with a chunk of it to wherever they might be going.

  6. Two little girls live next door and play barefoot in the grass. I heard the 3 year old screaming and crying for an hour. It wasn’t long before the Orkin man showed up. I don’t know if he sprayed but he hung a tube on the lemon tree.

    1. That’s so sad. It wouldn’t be very hard to put shoes on the kids and teach them to look out for things — and to check out the area first before kids start playing. And it’s not like one spray will guarantee that more won’t come later.

  7. That was quite a story! I live at peace with our resident wasps but have, in the past, had a couple of memorable encounters but never any such as yours! Thanks for sharing.

  8. Until only recently, I have had a toddler’s picture book knowledge of wasps, bees and the like. You know, one generalized representative for each. It was iNat that shook me into an adult-type understanding of the varieties: most recently the Spotted Cuckoo Spider wasp. I looked into habitat info on Wiki and it commented that a sandy soil area was preferred…astonishingly, I discovered it in an overused farm/grazing/clearcut area here in Vermont that was stripped to its sandy underlayer. A preserve which is now in recovery.
    So cool!

    1. That is so neat! iNat has really been an incredible resources for furthering people’s appreciation and understanding.

      When looking through my videos, I found one of a spider wasp from nine years ago, carrying a spider across the patio. I also saw that happening a few years ago with another kind of spider wasp (while watching mud daubers build their nest — it was a wasp bonanza that day!).

      The soil aspect is really interesting. Here we live on a once-marshy area that was filled in for development, something I found out only a few years ago. (It had been connected to a farm so I thought it had been farmed.) The more time goes by and that long-mowed back area keeps recovering, I’ve realized there’s a lot of sandy soil! Every year there are more and more sand-loving plants and animals.

  9. There’s a heartbreaking tweet from 2022 that says,

    “I had a dream that I was commissioned to write a poem from a bug to god, and I do not remember any of the poem except for the last line which was:

    I pray nobody kills me for the crime of being small.”

    (tweet by @KaylaAncrum but has been traveling around Tumblr)

  10. Wow!!!! What a great article. So sorry you were stung though. Bob tramped on a yellow jackets nest a few weeks ago. We both also got sting by wasps this summer . We like you still love them all.

  11. I loved your article. Mud Daubers are my favorite. I remember when I was sitting in a wading pool with my 10 month old daughter. A Mud Dauber landed next to me on the edge of the pool. She was using a drop of water to make the mud for her nest. It impressed me so much. Such a tiny amount of dirt and the work to make mud and then repeat it hundreds of times to make a nest. They always made their nests out in our garage. I could find them when I listened for the buzzing noise as she shaped the tubes. It was fascinating.

    1. That must have been amazing to watch!! I forgot to mention in this post that I saw these wasps dipping down into the pool for water! It amazed me that they could dip down and come back up again just fine. One year when we first built our pond and the organ pipe mud daubers were using the soil we’d excavated, I saw them leaning over the edge of the pond for water, just as you described. It’s pretty fantastic to see how they find and use the resources all around them!

  12. Thank you Nancy for the surprise visit to my inbox ! I’m delighted to read your first hand (and tongue) observations about wasps in your garden. I will try to be more careful when traversing my own bee-attended garden.
    Best to you,
    Jeanette

  13. Bear here… liking the observing of Small World Life…
    Since starting to do citizen science with the bumble bee brigade (Wisconsin)I have spotted many different types of wasps in our Yarden. I have petted bumble bees and had paper wasps land on me. (you are right, they are not out to get us.)
    mostly I get grass wasps and northern paper wasps. I may be a little too excited about the little critters I have 2 wasp and several bumble bee tattoos on my arms.
    keep up the good work…

  14. I enjoyed your informative article ! I know all wasps, bees etc have a purpose. We have Giant cicada killers. I have seen them carrying a cicada to their burrow in the ground where they have deposited their egg. Quite a sight! We have ground nesting yellow jackets. I’m not a fan. We had a skunk dig up a nest close to the house air conditioner during the night. The skunk odor was sucked into the house. The next day a skunk was under our bird feeder looking for fallen seeds. It would stop and scratch, then continue eating. I assumed it was stung many times. Amazing animals. Before I realized we had them, I let my dog out before bed. She was sprayed! I used the skunk scent removal wash (baking soda, Dawn dish detergent and hydrogen peroxide) to lessen the smell. Our dog was miserable. I was too. We now have a skunk free area for her to do her business. We yellow jacket nest now. Hope the skunk finds it soon!

    1. Hi Cindy, thank you! Even if the skunk doesn’t find the current nest, it should be done within a couple of months – the queen will be off and will build a new nest elsewhere next season. I had to laugh when I read the description of your dog getting sprayed because many years ago I was reading in bed when I had quite the surprise. My husband had taken our dog out and didn’t realize there was a skunk under the potting bench. Mattie thought she was making a friend and went inspecting under there, got sprayed, and — when Will tried to hold onto her while negotiating the door so he could go inside and get some supplies to wash her off — Mattie ran up the stairs and into the bedroom and jumped onto the bed. It was stinky but hilarious. But I did feel sorry for the skunk because they really need to conserve their spray for more important predators.

  15. Thank you for the wonderful article, Nancy! My house is liberally adorned in mud wasp tubes.
    I LOVE wasps and do whatever I can to attract them to my garden and yard. I’ve long since gotten over my fear of being attacked and find them fascinating to watch. They don’t bother me and they are fabulous pest control.

    1. That is so awesome, Alicia! The more people plant mountain mints, bonesets and some of these other wasp favorites, the more I think many realize just how gentle they are toward humans. If all they have is a turf lawn, they’re not going to see the diversity of solitary wasps – they will mainly see yellow jackets and other social wasps.

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