Drone Flies

When we think of 'flies', the image that comes to mind are those annoying blow-flies that somehow manage to get into a slither of space in a window, bash themselves about your house, trying to find a way back outside, yet can't seem to find their way out of two open doors, and several open windows! We think of pesky, dirty things we swat away. Things that carry disease and land on dirty things. Things that bite!

However, there are over 7,000 species of 'flies' in the UK (ref https://dipterists.org.uk/) and once you see the range, colours, jobs and characteristics of many of these, you will see there is more to the fly than just the irritating housefly, or biting midge! Thankfully, we have very few biting flies here in Great Britain. The worst of those would be the gruesome horsefly, whose bite is a thing of nightmares!

So, annoying flies, and creepy biters aside, there is actually a kaleidoscope of beautiful and very charismatic little flying insects about. I really love watching dainty little humbug striped hoverflies land delicately on nectar rich flowers, and use their straw-like tongues as sponges. Sit still, though, as these little ones can be easily spooked.

And there are some amazing jewel-coloured flies. We have had a lot of them in our garden this year. It's fun to watch them squabble and meet in mid-air. I'm not sure if they're foes or lovers, to be honest! These ones are quite attracted to a patch of bright yellow wildflowers I did my best to crush earlier in the year, thinking they were bindweed, but his only spurred them on to grow faster, and they produced dainty, star-like yellow blooms on thin stalks.

During lock-down, we became aware of some fascinating little characters in our garden. A bit of research told us that they were 'drone flies' deliberately making themselves look like bees to deter predators, but without the sting in the tail.

I would be hanging washing in bright April days, when I'd notice them landing delicately on the washing, and then rubbing their heads and bodies.

Pretty soon, they'd be landing on me, especially if I wore brightly coloured clothes. And then, soon, I was able to hold my hand out, and they would happily land, not in any hurry to fly on, as long as I was still and calm.

I came to really enjoy seeing these little insects everyday. I tutor English, and while sitting outside, preparing lessons, and enjoying the early spring sunshine, they'd land on my books, my leg, my shoulder. They seemed to have their own little territory in the garden, and I'd see them chase off would be usurpers.

Each day, while the weather was good, I'd say hello, and hold out my hand. The little flies would land, clean nectar off their large eyes and furry bodies, and then dart off to chase away any intruders onto their patch. It was both comedic and humbling. Who knew flies could be so interesting, and have such dramatic lives?

To help enrich our garden, I have been consciously planting nectar rich flowers in the garden, like heather, ox-eye daisies, letting dandelions thrive, and we also have fruit trees in bloom in early spring. It's a privilege to share our world with nature. These little creatures have shown it's worth it. We have solitary bees in our very rustic bee hotel, and it has been amazing watching the queens fly bac and forward, filling the cells with pollen from a nearby rosemary bush, and mud from the garden.

My daughter, who has become a bit of an insect-phobe, really got to love these little critters, too, and would spend a long time, patiently offering the back of her hand to our garden friends. They were only happy to oblige! She couldn't understand why drone flies in public places weren't as keen, and would be frightened off by an offered hand of friendship.

Sadly, our little friends have either died or moved on, and late summer days are now filled with the sound of bumble bees, and not drone flies. However, one evening I had a quick look into our 'wildlife pond'. When I say pond, I really mean a bucket my daughter and I sunk into the ground, filled with rainwater, pebbles, and one plant. There, under an overhanging piece of broken terracotta pot, were drone fly larvae, also known as rat-tailed maggots. They were wriggling and swimming, coming up to draw oxygen into their bodies via their 'tails'. The next generation of garden friends was already in residence.