Bald-Faced Hornets Can Remember Human Faces

Some wild facts about wasps and my asshole neighbor

photo by author. it was a digital zoom because I didn’t want to get any closer.

On a balmy Wednesday in July, I got out the ol’ lawnmower and filled her up with petrol. In the US we call it gasoline, but I’ve always been a wannabe Brit. Bollocks, I know.

I set off with the mower to tame the wilderness that was my weed-infested lawn. I started where I always do, and it’s upsetting how much of a rut I’m in — quite literally — as the mower wheels have worn ruts into the lawn because I mow in almost exactly the same pattern every time. I try to change, but change is hard. A few years ago I attempted a diagonal pattern, but things went south. My lines were crooked and it didn’t look at all like the fairways at Pebble Beach I had imagined. I couldn’t sleep for weeks.

A small Japanese maple grows peacefully on the side of the house where nobody ever has any reason to be. I mow concentric squares around it until I get close, then duck under the stubby little branches. I bumped the trunk with the mower and a bunch of horseflies took off around the tree.

I stood back and thought, Boy, that’s weird. I‘ve never seen horseflies swarm like that before.

That is because they were not horseflies. They were black and buzzy, hence my cursory identification. Upon closer inspection…