Male scorpion fly

This is a male scorpion fly.  Apart from the genital capsule at the rear end (which gives it the common name of scorpion fly) it looks pretty much like the female scorpion fly.

This is a close up of the genital capsule.

Males are much more difficult to find than females.  I'm not sure why this is.  It could be that there are just fewer, or perhaps they are more wary, or maybe they do not live long after mating.  They are also more difficult to catch.

Well it is summer, though you wouldn't know it by the temperature.  The birch leaves have stiffened up and are now a dark leathery green.  The bracken is knee high, and is trying to take over every edge it can making some paths impassable until the winter.  I step on the fronds that come up on the paths, but this is not nearly enough to keep them open.

Today I saw two male scorpion flies, but I didn't have my camera or a net, so all I could do was look at them.  I must make an effort to catch one and take a photograph for the web site.

Bombus pascuorum workers were busy in the field and woodland edge, but I haven't seen many in the garden, although all the other common bumblebees are out in force.  I am so glad to have a lot of Bombus hortorum on my viper's bugloss.  it is such a wonderful plant for them, and the flowers go on and on.  They will last at least until the lavender is in bloom, so hortorum will have plenty of nectar from my garden all through summer and until it gets colder.

Oh, my timer is pinging at me, that means by bread must be ready, so I'm off.

The Octopus by A C Hilton

I've been up to my eyes in emails, gardening and trying to catch and photograph a male scorpion fly.  I've seen a few males, but have yet to catch one.  I've given up trying to photograph them outside as I cannot get anywhere near enough. Oh well, now time to veg out on the sofa and watch a prog called The joy of stats. - oxymoron if I ever saw one! 

To relax I've been reading the Faber book of comic verse, and came across this.

The Octopus by A C Hilton

              Strange beauty, eight-limbed and eight-handed,
                 Whence camest to dazzle our eyes?
              With thy bosom bespangled and banded
                  With the hues of the seas and the skies;
              Is thy home European or Asian,
                  O mystical monster marine?
              Part molluscous and partly crustacean,
                  Betwixt and between.

              Wast thou born to the sound of sea trumpets?
                Hast thou eaten and drunk to excess
            Of the sponges -- thy muffins and crumpets,
                Of the seaweed -- thy mustard and cress?
            Wast thou nurtured in caverns of coral,
                Remote from reproof or restraint?
            Art thou innocent, art thou immoral,
                Sinburnian or Saint?

            Lithe limbs, curling free, as a creeper
                That creeps in a desolate place,
            To enroll and envelop the sleeper
                In a silent and stealthy embrace,
            Cruel beak craning forward to bite us,
                Our juices to drain and to drink,
            Or to whelm us in waves of Cocytus,
                Indelible ink!

            O breast, that 'twere rapture to writhe on!
                O arms 'twere delicious to feel
            Clinging close with the crush of the Python,
                When she maketh her murderous meal!
            In thy eight-fold embraces enfolden,
                Let our empty existence escape,
            Give us death that is glorious and golden,
                Crushed all out of shape!

            Ah! thy red lips, lascivious and luscious,
                With death in their amorous kiss,
            Cling round us, and clasp us, and crush us,
                With bitings of agonised bliss;
            We are sick with the poison of pleasure,
                Dispense us the potion of pain;
            Ope thy mouth to its uttermost measure
                And bite us again!

Female scorpion fly

I've just added this image of a female scorpion fly crawling over my hand to the Scorpion fly page. I caught her in July. I had been trying for days to get a good photograph, but couldn't. They are quite nervous insects, and as soon as they detected me would fall into the vegetation - usually a whin bush - and I could never find them. So this one I caught in my net and took home. Then I got her to walk over my hand. She seemed remarkably docile. Perhaps it was the bright light, as they are usually in shade or dappled shade. Anyway, I put her back in the afternoon and was determined to get a male to photograph his tail, but try as I might I couldn't find one. There were plenty of females, but no males, though I'd seen some the previous week. All through August I tried to get a male, but couldn't. So perhaps the males are only around for a short time in June and early July.
I'll try again next summer.
We have had our first snow today, so there will be few live insects to be photographed from now on. I'll just have to make do with by backlog of photographs and the dead ones I've been collecting to photograph during my walks with the dog. I have a little box of corpses on my desk (goodness knows what my cleaning lady thinks), many of which I need to identify. Most of them I find at the side of the road, so I assume they've been hit by a passing car. Some are not even dead, and when I get home I find they are very much alive. These I quickly photograph and let go once they can move properly. Others I find floating in puddles. I found a queen ant one morning in the dog's water bowl in the garden. I thought I could detect some movement, so I put her on a tissue and left her for a day, but she was dead.