Thick-legged flower beetle: ‘By our thighs you shall know us’

There’s nothing so delicious as a flower. A nice, wide, generous open flower beneath the sun in an ever-warmer world: that suits me just fine. There I sit and shine, glowing in the sunlight, a living jewel on a floral throne.

Monday

It’s my thighs that do the best shining. They tell the world – and more importantly they tell all the slim-legged female thick-legged flower beetles – that I’m male and not unduly ashamed of it. By our thighs you shall know us, and if my thighs are jewels I accept the fact in humility and gratitude.

Tuesday

I hope I’m not boasting when I say that no animal does humility like a beetle. It’s all to do with one of the great contradictions of life: the knowledge that we are unique and at the same time one of many. That’s a concept that involves numbers impossible to grasp, even in the mind of a beetle. In times of plenty we have time to muse on life, commuting from flower to flower or resting up from another fragrant meal and contemplating the meaning of life.

Wednesday

I have a pair of perfectly effective wings but you can’t see them as I lounge at my ease in the vast cup of a wild white rose, pondering great matters such as whether or not it’s time for another mouthful of pollen. You can’t see them because they’re protected by a pair of shimmering shields. I can creep and crawl anywhere without damaging my wings. Pretty good, eh?

Thursday

OK, OK, I can imagine your response. Protected wings is a good idea but it’s not that good. I mean, not compared with the tooth of a shark, the trunk of an elephant, the brain of a human and the wings of an albatross. You might think that, but you’d be wrong. Protected wings is the greatest idea in the history of life.

Friday

This idea is the USP of beetle-kind, and it has enabled us to conquer the world. There are 300 species in the order of primates, and they all think they’re pretty bloody wonderful. There are 2 million of us — species, not individuals – in the order of Coleoptera or beetles. Humans think they’ve done well to describe 400,000 of us; they’ve barely scratched the surface. Practically everything that has ever lived is a beetle: 25% of all life forms are beetles, and every single species of beetle is as distinct from every other species of beetle as humans are from their chimpanzee cousins.

Saturday

Being a beetle gives you a certain perspective on life. We know that uniqueness is only half the story. We’re unique in being thick-legged flower beetles: we’re also one among 2 million other beetle species. We’re great; we’re part of something greater. Learn wisdom from the beetles. Humans are always searching for the meaning of life, but it’s there every time they look at a beetle. The meaning of life is diversity.

Thick-legged flower beetle CV

Lifespan A year from egg to corpse

Eating habits Pollen and a drop of nectar

Hobbies Botany

Sexual preferences A slim-thighed lady

Photograph by Arterra Picture Library/Alamy