Buzzy Builders Trivia Quiz

Answer: Wood fibers and saliva

Polistes, the scientific name of the paper wasps, are the papier-mâché artists and architects of backyard nuisances. They scrape wood fibers from fences, trees, and my back deck, chew them up, mix them with saliva, and voilà: a papery pulpy mess that they use to construct their nests.

They work solely with their jaws, a bit of spit, some wood, and sheer determination. And they do it all just to make my summers a little less enjoyable.

Answer: A circular comb of hexagonal cells

Paper wasps build their nests as open circular combs made of hexagonal cells. They hang these combs from a stalk, usually under eaves, porch ceilings, or tree branches... basically anywhere inconvenient for a middle-aged man who'd prefer to enjoy a beer out on his deck in peace. The end result, when not impeded by surroundings, is an upside-down ever-widening umbrella shape.

The design is crude but very effective. Each hexagonal cell serves as a cute little nursery for cute little developing wasp larvae. Unlike hornets or yellow jackets, which enclose their nests in a paper shell, paper wasps tend to prefer the open-plan look.

Answer: Semi-social hierarchy

Paper wasps live in colonies that are semi-social, often considered eusocial. There's typically one dominant queen who lays the eggs, while the other females (all sisters) take on the worker tasks of nest building, foraging, and taking care of the cute little larvae. It's a pretty classic insect hierarchy: one boss and a whole bunch of underpaid employees.

As the season goes on, new queens and males are produced. This is a fine time for wasp-watching, if that's your thing. The new guys will leave the nest, mate, and the fertilized queens will overwinter to start new colonies the following spring. The old workers and the original queen die off when cold weather sets in, making the society seasonal rather than permanent like honeybee hives.

Yup, that papery umbrella hanging under your back deck is a fascinating little social experiment, exhibiting cooperation, division of labor, and a cyclic rise and fall of empires. Just don't poke it with a stick.

Answer: Laying eggs and starting a new colony in the spring

The queen paper wasp has one job, and she does it well. That's laying eggs. In the early spring, after overwintering in some quiet sheltered place, a mated queen emerges to start a new colony. She chews up some wood, builds the first few cells of the nest, and lays eggs inside them. After the first workers develop, she becomes a full-time mom laying eggs as necessary and leaving it up to the rest of the colony to handle the busywork.

Unlike honeybee queens, which may reign for several years, paper wasp colonies are more seasonal monarchies. Their colonies only last for one warm season, and by the time autumn comes around, their job is done. The workers and the queen die, leaving only new queens, mated and ready to overwinter, to start the next generation.

Answer: Nectar from flowers and fruits

Adult paper wasps have a surprising sweet-tooth for creatures with such a violent reputation. Their main diet consists of flower nectar, fruit juices, and other sugary stuffs. This makes them unexpected, if inefficient, pollinators, as they flit and fly from flower to flower to find a fast fix of the sweet stuff. If you've ever had a wasp hover a little too close to your soda can at a picnic, you now know why.

They're always looking for dessert.

Answer: Chewed-up insects

Cute little paper wasp larvae don't get the luxury of honey like their distant bee cousins. Instead, workers hunt down caterpillars, flies, and other small, squishy insects, chew them into a nice protein paste, and deliver the slurry straight into the open cells where the cute little larvae wait.

While adults prefer sweet nectar and fruit juices for fast energy, the cute little developing larvae need protein to grow big and strong. The workers act as both the culinary masters and the free delivery service, bringing in their fresh-caught groceries, pre-chewing them (you're not gonna make a cute little larva chew up its own caterpillar are you?), and feeding the colony's future workforce.

Answer: Defensive but reluctant to sting

Paper wasps have a reputation for painful stings, but they're not nearly as hot-headed as hornets and yellow jackets. Generally, they're defensive rather than outright aggressive. If you wander too close to their nest, they'll give you a nasty look and may buzz around you as a warning. Push your luck... well, you'll discover that they're not afraid to back up their warnings with a sting or two.

Interestingly, paper wasps usually need a solid reason before they sting. Unlike honeybees, which die after using their stinger, wasps can sting repeatedly, but they don't want to spend their venom recklessly. It's a precious resource, reserved for defending the colony or taking down prey. So unless you give them a good (to them) reason, they're much more likely to posture menacingly than to attack.

So, while they may not be your ideal neighbors, paper wasps tend toward caution. Respect their space, and they'll usually return the favor... unless their space happens to be on my porch roof right over where I sit. (Paper wasps and I have a history, OK?)

Answer: Longer, more slender, with legs that dangle during flight

Paper wasps tend to look like the yoga instructors of the wasp world. They're longer, more slender, and they would be elegant in flight if their legs didn't dangle down under them like someone swinging their feet on a Ferris wheel. Yellow jackets, by contrast, are stockier and more compact, built like a little black and yellow brick. If you see something buzzing around that looks sleek with ridiculously dangling legs, you're probably looking at a paper wasp. Either way, I recommend against petting it.

Their nests also help give them away. Paper wasps build open, umbrella-shaped combs with open cells, while yellow jackets like to feel fully enclosed in their spherical paper nests. Add to that their difference in temperament, and you've got a few ways to tell who's who before getting the bug spray.

Answer: They are predators of caterpillars and other garden pests.

Paper wasps may not be as beloved as honeybees or butterflies, for good reason, but they do pull their weight in our gardens. One of their biggest contributions is as natural pest control, which some might consider ironic. Workers hunt down caterpillars, beetle larvae, and other chewy insects, pulp them into a protein paste, and feed them to their developing young. In the process, they help keep populations of garden and crop pests in check.

On top of that, paper wasps dabble in pollination. Since adults primarily sip nectar and fruit juices, they inadvertently transfer pollen from flower to flower to flower. They're not nearly as efficient as bees, but they still give a modest helping leg for plant reproduction.

So, yeah. It's worth remembering that paper wasps aren't just out to ruin picnics. They're also part of the delicate balance that makes gardens and whole ecosystems flourish. That doesn't mean I have to like them.

Answer: Only mated queens overwinter.

By the time summer ends, the paper wasp colony is on its last dangly legs. The queen and her workers, who've spent the summer constructing the nest, foraging, and raising those cute little larvae, won't survive the coming cold. Instead, only newly mated queens make it through. These ladies will look for a safe crevice or pile of leaves but will inevitably choose a cozy corner of my shed to overwinter until spring.

When the warmer weather comes, each queen starts the process anew by establishing her own nest. That means every spring, the paper wasp colonies you see are brand spanking-new, not carryovers from the previous year. Unlike honeybees, which keep a colony alive indefinitely through their famous teamwork and stockpiled food, paper wasps follow a seasonal boom-and-bust cycle.

It's a harsh colony survival strategy, but an effective one. Workers sacrifice themselves for the summer's success, while the new queens carry the genes forward. So no, the colony doesn't hibernate or migrate; it dies with the exception of a few lucky ladies who'll wake up in spring, stretch their wings and their dangly legs, and create another unwanted reboot.