Humming Flowerfly (Syrphus ribesii)

Discover the hoverfly that delivers the news & sings.

Humming Flowerfly (Syrphus ribesii) 

Wing Length 7.25-11.5mm. Body size 9-13mm

Flight. Apr-Nov

Species to spot in June July

I’m a little late with June’s species of the month—unusual for me—but I’ve recently been “whispered” some good news… by a hoverfly no less, more on that in a moment.

Have you ever walked along a path or paused near a sunlit glade and noticed flies hovering at about head height? Darting, stopping, then settling briefly on a leaf before lifting off again? Chances are it might be this species of hoverfly.

So, you’re walking along a path and notice flies hovering at about head height. This little fellow above could well be one of them. I say “fellow” because it’s most likely a lekking male. He hovers in a shaft of sunlight, then settles on a leaf, only to take off again a minute or two later and repeat the display. You might spot other males doing the same thing a little further along the path, each holding their own patch of air. If anything ventures too close into that space, he’ll dart sideways to check it out—hoping it’s a female, though it could just as easily be another male trying to steal his territory. Often, though not always, there’s a patch of flowers beneath him, acting as a lure for females coming in for nectar and pollen—but this isn’t always the case.

Keep an eye out for this behaviour next time you’re out on a walk—and let me know in the comments what you spot!

What you’re observing is the behaviour of a very common hoverfly found across the UK and Europe—the Humming Banded fly, often referred to in the literature as the Common Banded Hoverfly or Flowerfly Syrph. I’ve used these names myself, though I’m not particularly fond of them. “Syrph” is technically correct—it’s right there in the scientific name—but it feels a bit incomplete. In America, hoverflies are often called “flowerflies,” which I do quite like, as this group of flies are often noticed around flowers. “Common banded,” on the other hand, feels rather generic and could apply to almost any striped hoverfly. So, after much deliberation, I’ve settled on calling it the Humming Flowerfly. Whether that name catches on or not remains to be seen – let me know if you like it. Whatever common name we prescribe it will always be known as Syrphus ribesii.

Why have I called it “Humming”? Well, for one very good reason. If you get close to this hoverfly while it’s lekking or resting on a leaf, you may hear a faint hum. It’s more noticeable with a bat detector—though you’re unlikely to have one in your pocket during the day unless you’re out listening for crickets or grasshoppers (a post for another time). This humming acts as a mating call a courtship song to any passing females. Whether it’s effective is another matter—grasshoppers produce sound by stridulation to attract a mate, but hoverflies lack that ability, so instead they make do with what they’ve got their wings.

If you’re lucky, it might hover right in front of you—if it does, take a moment to marvel at the display. Hoverflies are incredible fliers, able to switch from high-speed flight to a perfectly “dead steady” hover in the blink of an eye. This manoeuvre is often described as a sudden "zap"—a near-instantaneous cessation of momentum.

 But folklore suggests there may be more to it… as if it’s trying to tell you something. In parts of the Appalachian and southeastern United States during the 19th to early 20th century, hoverflies were affectionately known as the “News Bee” or “Gossip Bee.” This comes from their habit of hovering close to people’s faces, almost as if they’re studying you or delivering the latest local update. 

According to folklore, these encounters carry meaning:

•Yellow: A mostly yellow hoverfly brings good luck or positive news.

•Black: A mostly black hoverfly—especially one indoors—is seen as a bad omen.

•The message: If one buzzes close to your ear, it’s said to be whispering that important news is on its way.

If you’re in the US and have heard of this folklore, I’d love to hear more about it.

If you’re in Europe and have come across anything similar, I’d really enjoy hearing your story—where you heard it and how.

Drop me a line and let me know what, where, and how you came to know them as “news bees.”

There are other hoverflies that exhibit this same hovering behaviour too—species such as the Great Pied (Volucella pellucens), Marmalade (Episyrphus balteatus), and Tapered Dronefly (Eristalis pertinax). Earlier in the season, I’ve also spotted Spring Smoothtail (Epistrophe eligans) and the Common Dronefly (Eristalis tenax) doing much the same. However, I have never noticed any of these species' humming, it seems to be unique to just the Humming Flowerfly, but this will require a little more field research. 

Now here’s the part that will amaze your friends: try holding your hand just beneath a hovering hoverfly and see what happens. In my experience, they’ll often land almost immediately to take a rest. Don’t worry—they can’t sting, as they simply don’t have the equipment to do so. They may, however, begin to “taste” your skin for salts, but again, nothing to worry about—they don’t bite. At most, you’ll feel a slight tickle, as their mouthparts are more like a soft brush designed for soaking up nectar. If they don’t land straight away, try slowly moving your hand closer.

I have tried this trick many times with various groups it works particular well with Humming Flowerfly, less so with Marmalade and Eristalis species and vary rarely if never with Great Pied and Spring Smoothtail. 

Let me know which species you are able to coerce to land and which ones you don’t, it would be good to compare lists.

Another place to look for this Humming Flowerfly, at this time of year, is around flowers—especially the females (you can tell them apart by the separation between the eyes). Here, they’ll be doing one of two things: either feeding on nectar and pollen to fuel egg production or searching for developing aphid colonies where they can lay their eggs. When looking for aphids, females often hover just beneath the flower head near the stem. They avoid landing until the right place for its egg is found, as doing so too could trigger chemical alarm signals in the aphid colony—a warning of a predator.

The larvae are voracious aphid predators, and I often find them among the flowers in my wild garden, particularly on oxeye daisies. They vary in colour from whitish green through to red or yellow brown. Along their backs run darker patches forming chevron-like markings. At first glance, they resemble bird droppings—a clever bit of mimicry to avoid being eaten. I’ve also found them on the underside of sycamore leaves, which likely explains what blackbirds are searching for when you see them turning over leaves in the ground litter.

So next time you’re clearing up leaves—whether bagging them or burning them—pause for a moment. Not only could you be destroying future hoverflies, but also removing an important food source for birds, hedgehogs, and other wildlife.

Anyways that’s it for species of the month – back with another one soon. Let me know if you have any suggestions for hoverflies you would like me to feature.

My acrostic postcard about Syrphus - for more – click here

Sources: 

Good-news bees: more than a colourful buzz in the blooms

*This folklore doesn’t seem to exist in Europe and the hoverfly most associated with this lore in the US is technically Virginia Giant Hover fly (Milesia virginiensis) more commonly known as the ‘Yellowjacket Hover Fly’, they also have a stout buzz, but apparently not when sat on a leaf. Let me know if that is incorrect.

News Bees | Historic Union County