The summer sun sets on the cul-de-sacs, loopy drives, strip malls, and parked cars that populate the periphery of a great metropolis. Despite the massive human alterations this landscape has seen from both indigenous and foreign influences, patches of verdure, teeming with non-human life, continue to spring forth as if from nothing. However, these patches of weeds arise from colonization events just as directed and enterprising, on their scale, as the colonization of the Americas. Their inhabitants, locked in fierce competition for resources, press ever outward into the well-groomed lawns and gardens of unsuspecting suburbanites. They do this via wind and muscle, much like many of our ancestors, in order arrive in richer lands where they might grow and give their progeny a leg up. These insects were all found in a 10 foot stretch of green at the edge of a small patch of forest in Northern Virginia, surrounded on all sides by pavement and housing developments.