According to botanists, there are almost 500 species of Bellflower, a.k.a., the Campanulas, and while there are a number of native species, most of the showier ones—many are absolute knockouts—are escaped garden varieties that came to us from their Eurasian haunts. I don't know where this one came from, and I don't mean that I'm not sure of its botanical origin. I mean that one day, two or three years ago in July, it just appeared among the flowers. I didn't plant it. I didn't know anyone who had one. I'd never seen it in a catalog or in a display garden. The nearly two-inch-long drooping blossoms were suddenly there and I was entranced. Then, after it had bloomed, it disappeared, seemingly never to return. Well, clearly not never. Completely unbidden, here it was... in all its remembered glory. It might be a Spotted Bellflower, a native of Korea, Japan, and Siberia, or a cousin, known as the Korean Bellflower. In any case, I hope it decides to make itself at home in my garden and put on an annual show. It certainly is a attractive bloom, both to me and this equally attractive Long-horned Beetle, which goes by the name of Strangalia luteicornis.