Eastern Cicada-killer Wasps at peak activity across city blocks
July 29, 2026
(Sphecius speciosus) are at peak activity across the waterfront and inland parks this month — 19 sightings since late June, with seven logged just in the past four days from Greenwood Heights and Prospect Park to the waterfront edge and Herbert Von King Park, including sightings along Joralemon Street and in Herbert Von King Park on July 28. These are North America's largest native solitary wasps, two inches long and formidable-looking, yet they rarely sting. Their midsummer timing is no accident: they emerge and hunt precisely when cicadas do, each female provisioning a single egg with a paralyzed cicada dragged back to her burrow.
That sightings are turning up across this many city blocks — from Greenwood Heights to Prospect Park to the waterfront edge — points to the persistence of suitable ground. Sparse vegetation, sandy margins, and bare soil patches still exist here in sufficient patchiness for a native insect with strict nesting requirements to establish and forage.
The monarchs you see here are not the ones that overwintered in Mexico. That generation died in the spring. The butterflies laying eggs on Brooklyn milkweed now are their offspring, born somewhere to the south in April or May and continuing north. Their own offspring will be the ones that fly back to Mexico in the fall, navigating by the sun and by some sensitivity to the earth's magnetic field that researchers are still working to understand. The insect on the leaf in front of you has never made that journey and never will. It is here to reproduce, and the leaf it chooses determines whether its line continues.
The milkweed flowers are just opening on some plants, the pink-purple globe clusters tight and fragrant in the heat. Find a patch in sun and stand near it for a moment. The bumble bees are audible before they land.