Death by Phlox

So, this morning I couldn't find anything flashy to take a picture of.  My freckled Tiger Lily finally bloomed, as did my maroon dahlias.  Only one bloom each but I have to admit, the excitement has waned.  The Daylillies have, as they say, pretty much had their day.  And the mass of Shasta daisies are all brown headed now.  At first I was like, ok, this is boring and then I just looked around.  There's gotta be something interesting, right?  So I walked around to the backyard and up against the west side of the house was a Junebug nose-deep into a phlox, making me smile.  I had to fact-check the plant name on my PictureThis app (which only applies to plants not insects - damn) but I was pretty sure that was a Junebug.   The winged insects, also called Screen Thumpers, that crash into my window screens at night during the summer months, drawn to the incandescence.  Who congregate with other believers around my porch light as the sun sets, praying to the glowing orb.  But I'm not positive this is a Junebug also called a Maybug who I'm looking at in August, cause I can't see his whole body.  But I know he's not a black and white spotted Calligrapha Beetle.  That'd be fun.  Nor is he Dung Beetle.  Nose-deep in the wrong and much more fragrant target.  And he clearly isn't a Emerald Euphoria Beetle with iridescent blue and gold wings.  But I wish it was.  It prefers rotting fruit and this is, well, phlox.  There are, shockingly, 170 other varieties of beetles that roam, infest, hangout in Maine, but I'm going with Junebug here. Asleep at the wheel.  Or maybe dead.  Death by phlox.