The Milkweed Diaries
Showing posts with label beneficial insects. Show all posts
Showing posts with label beneficial insects. Show all posts

Sunday, March 23, 2014

On Bumble Bees


Bombus terricola (left), Bombus pensylvanicus (center) and Bombus auricomus (right), courtesy of the Xerces Society
The wild bee identification class I took at the Organic Growers School earlier this month got me all fired up about bumble bees. I've always loved their presence in the garden, but I've just been a casual observer. I had no idea that there were hundreds of species of bumble bees in the perfectly named genus Bombus.  It turns out that the bumbling Bombus is hairy, clumsy, loud, and extremely efficient as a pollinator. Bumble bees' size, fuzzy texture, and loud buzz all add to their pollinating prowess - the buzzing actually helps shake loose pollen, which then attaches to their big hairy bodies as they bumble and lurch all over the bloom.

Sadly, as I've delved deeper into bumble bees, I've learned that a number of formerly common Bombus species are in rapid decline due to habitat destruction, pesticides, invasive species, and climate change.

I was astonished to learn that bumble bees are used commercially like honeybees as pollinators for large-scale agribusiness operations. According to one study I found (Plight of the bumble bee: Pathogen spillover from commercial to wild populationsSheila R. Colla, Michael C. Otterstatter *, Robert J. Gegear, James D. Thomson, Department of Zoology, University of Toronto, available at www.sciencedirect.com): "Since the early 1990’s, private companies have mass-produced and distributed colonies of native bumble bees (Bombus impatiens Cresson in the east and B. occidentalis Greene in the west, although more recently B. impatiens has also been shipped to the west) to large-scale commercial greenhouses for year-round pollination of tomato and sweet pepper. A pollinating force of commercial Bombus can reach 23,000 bees per greenhouse."  These large scale commercial bumblebee colonies are apparently one of several factors contributing to native bumblebee decline.  


Bombus pensylvanicus female courtesy of DiscoverLife.org
The Xerces Society has a ton of great information about how to protect and conserve bumblebees including this useful publication: Guidelines for Creating and Managing Habitat for America’s Declining Pollinators.

Besides the obvious (stop using pesticides and herbicides) there is some really interesting information about how to create habitat. For instance: most bumblebees nest underground, often in abandoned homes of other animals, including rodents and birds. So by killing mice and other rodents, land owners are indirectly decreasing bumblebee habitat.  They also like to overwinter in brushy and unmowed areas, woodpiles, grass clumps, hollow logs, dead trees, and debris piles - which means a little bit of mess is great for the bumblebees, yay!

Bombus pensylvanicus courtesy of DiscoverLife.org

Xerces Society is conducting a Citizen Science Project to track the status of five declining Bombus species - of course I will be participating, since the idea of a "Citizen Science Project" gets me all fired up and ready to get out my field guides and magnifying glass and Neil deGrasse Tyson T-shirt.  One of this summer's goals will be learning to identify different Bombus species. Nerding out with the Bombus in the garden!  Because they're big and slow and harmless, I'm hoping they'll be easier to identify than some of the other beneficial insects I've hunted in years past.

More bumblebee information can be found at Bumblebee Watch and you can see some gorgeous bumblebee photos on the USGS Bee Inventory and Monitoring Lab's flickr page. 

Here are a few Bombus greatest hits photos from my garden over the past few years.

Some Bombus getting busy on a sunflower

Bombus on Bee Balm 

Echinacea in last year's garden with a bodacious Bombus visitor
Rock on, Bombus. Long may you thrive and pollinate.


Wednesday, March 12, 2014

On Bees, Beauty, and Science


Osmia lignaria (Blue Orchard Bee), a native megachilid  bee that nests in holes and reeds
Growing up, I experienced science classes as irrelevant tedium, something to just try to get through with as little pain as possible. I remember being bored with science classes in elementary school, doing a lot of rote memorization in my high school chemistry, biology, and physics classes, and never having any interest in learning any more than I had to about science.

Something strange happened in college. To meet my minimum science requirements, sure that I would be suffering through more tedious memorization of numbers, rules, and formulas, I looked for the least boring, most "liberal artsy" of the science classes in the course catalog.  I signed up for Evolutionary Ecology and Cosmology and fell in love with both. 

Suddenly, science was fascinating, relevant, and useful.  It was tinged with mysticism and magic, and full of beauty and wonder. My two science professors, passionate about their fields of expertise, brought to life for me the science of life and of the cosmos. Evolution and ecology and the mysteries of the origins of the universe fascinated me.

But it was too late - I was already deep into my major and committed to thinking of science as something arcane, confusing, and dry -- something that belonged to science and math people, not to English majors like me. Those classes, I thought, were just odd diversions, strange aberrations, lucky breaks in my quest to knock out the core courses required for a liberal arts major to graduate.

Rachel Carson paying attention
Many years later, as a gardener and lover of the natural world, I came to feel ripped off.  Science is amazing. The universe and the planet are amazing, and science is one of the ways we witness and comprehend all of the wonder of the universe and the Earth. I wish that science classes in elementary school and high school had consisted of bird watching, making compost and studying worm bins, walks in the woods, animal tracking, night field trips with telescopes, and wading in the stream with a magnifying glass.

I especially regret not studying botany earlier in life, along with all of the life sciences - the studies of the amazing community of life on the planet--entymology, ornithology, zoology‎, microbiology, and so on.

So in small ways I've been trying to remedy my ignorance of science for years, and I've made more headway with plants than with other living things, but still feel woefully un-learned.  Carl Sagan and Rachel Carson have helped, and field guides, and smart friends, and just spending a lot of time outside in the natural world paying attention.

So when I get to look at a sweat bee under a microscope and see her back glittering iridescent green, a tiny, magical, shimmering, bejeweled surface invisible to the naked eye, it's an exciting day for me.

At the Organic Growers School last weekend I had a chance to do just that - at a class called "Meet the Bees," taught by Dr. Jill Sidebottom.  I sat next to my new blogger friend Rachel in Dr. Sidebottom's bee class, and we totally nerded out.  

Inspecting bees under the microscope

Agapostemon sericeus (Sweat Bee), courtesy of Bee Tribes of the World (bugsrus, York University)
-- similar to the emerald green sweat bee I studied under the microscope in "Meet the Bees."

Dr. Jill has been studying bees and insects sometimes mistaken for bees in Christmas tree fields, thanks to NC Extension (yay, my tax dollars at work!). She showed us a lot of specimens and put us through the paces with bee, wasp, and fly identification (I have a lot to learn, suffice to say).

The class deepened my love of the bumbling Bombus genus (Bumblebees!).  Bombus species, I learned from Dr. Jill, are excellent pollinators because they are big, hairy, clumsy, and loud.  The volume of their buzzing as they perch on the edge or hang out inside of a flower actually helps shake loose pollen, which then collects on their hairy bodies.

 Bombus terrestris (a Bumblebee species) courtesy of Wikipedia Commons
And I have a new appreciation for Sweat Bees. I love that they are shockingly, excessively beautiful in a way that is invisible to the naked eye. Certain Sweat Bees are downright "blingy" in the words of our instructor - iridescent, sparkly, exquisite, and glamorous up close. Seeing some of the members of the genus Agapostemon (Metallic Green Bees) under the microscope, you would think you must be looking at some rare and exotic insect. But it's just a pesky, common, tiny Sweat Bee.  Having seen their beauty up close, I know I'll think twice about swatting them this summer.


Rachel inspecting bees with a hand lens
Dr. Jill also shared some great sources of gorgeous photos of birds, bugs, and other natural wonders -- here are a few that live in Facebook world:


Thanks to Dr. Jill Sidebottom for a great introduction to all of the different kinds of bees in this part of the world, and thanks to the Organic Growers School for the chance to play at science!

PS/update 3/13: Thanks to Christina for sending me another amazing wild bee photo collection: the USGS Bee Inventory and Monitoring Lab's Flickr stream which includes hundreds of beautiful photos of bees. 




Friday, July 17, 2009

In Fruit & Flower

Photos from this afternoon in the garden:









Sunday, February 15, 2009

Bee School

We just finished Bee School , an annual intensive sponsored by our local bee club.  It was a veritable jamboree of all things apian.

This Spring we'll set up our first hives, facing southeast toward a beautiful red maple tree a short distance from our kitchen garden.  We won't be using any chemicals in the hives, and after the first year we plan to feed the bees only with their own honey (rather than the white sugar or corn syrup that are often used).  

Rather than attempt to summarize the many hours of bee-knowledge that we took in, here are some great links for bee information and inspiration:


Every Third Bite:  A really wonderful 9-minute documentary about bees, food, and life.  I love this little film for a bunch of reasons, but one thing that's great about it is that it showcases not just country bees, but urban and suburban beekeeping operations-- including the Chicago Honey Co-op and a New York City beekeeper who has hives on rooftops all over Manhattan.  

WNC Bees dot org:  The fabulous Buncombe County Bee Club's excellent portal to a wealth of bee-knowledge. 

Wild Mountain Apiaries:  We are buying "nucs" this Spring from this local supplier.  "Nuc" is short for "nuclear colony" -- a small honeybee colony created from a larger colony, and the easiest way to get started in beekeeping.

The Honeybee Project:  A locally-based initiative to raise awareness about the importance of honeybees.

Bee Guardian: Committed to working to help honeybees survive and thrive.

Long live the honeybees!

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Guerilla in a Bright Red Dress: Sumac

Over the summer, Christopher took this photo (left) of sumac in bloom on our land -- if you click to enlarge, you'll see how beloved the sumac flower is by bees. Providing sustenence for pollenators is just one of the wonders of sumac, a woefully under-appreciated plant.  

Sumacs are a family of native plants that grow througout most of North America, and are widely thought of as a common weed.  Here in WNC, sumac grows along the highways and in trashed-out urban lots, among other places.  It's a tough plant.

I've heard sumac's growth habit described as rangy or scrappy, but if you look at stands that have been allowed to mature, the plants cluster together and take on a graceful, curvy, elegant form that I think is quite beautiful.  

In the summer, sumac looks like a bushy green shrub or small tree, eventually bearing huge yellow flowers.  In the fall, the leaves turn deep crimson and the flowers dry on the plant, becoming a gorgeous shade of red. After the leaves are gone, bright red fruit clusters remain on the tips of the long thin branches.  

Below: two photos of Sumac that I took across the river at Warren Wilson College today - neither of these shots captures the color but you can get a sense of the shapes of sumac trees.

Coming across a stand of sumac in the winter feels to me like witnessing a ritual of some kind. A mature patch of sumac with its branches bare looks like a gathering of lanky, sinewy women, arms and legs intertwined, reaching up to the sky.  In the winter the sumac sisters, those tough leafy warriors, shed their red dresses and stand still together,  their arms snaking throuh the air, holding up offerings of bright red fruit.  Magical.

Each red sumac pod is made up of a cluster of tiny bright red berries. Birds and animals feast on the fruits as long as they last--the fruit is a rare treat for wildlife in a winter landscape.  

Food and medicine traditions of many native peoples include sumac, and for good reason.  The dried fruit makes a deliciously tart beverage, and the tiny hairs on each of the small red fruits are jam-packed with vitamin C.  In addition to the high C content, sumac fruits contain potent natural antibiotics (Foster/Duke).  According to Peterson's field guide to medicinal herbs,  sumac was used to treat and prevent a wide variety of maladies in native traditions throughout North America.  For more on sumac's medicinal qualities, see this overview.)  

So back to our sumac.  In the fall, Christopher remembered that an old friend of his, Lalynn, used to make a tea from dried sumac heads to drink during the winter, and decided he wanted to harvest some for us.   So he picked some dried heads of sumac and we broke them apart and let them air dry inside (see photo above) before jarring them up.  We left plenty behind for the birds and other wildlife, and ended up with about a half gallon of dry sumac berries.  I snacked on the tiny berries as we processed the heads, and the zingy, tart flavor was so strong it sometimes made my eyes water.  This winter we'll use the berries to make hot sumac tea or steep and then cool and strain to produce refreshing sumac-ade.  

I appreciate sumac as food and medicine, but most of all because I see it as a plant that goes where others can't, takes root, and grows like wild.  Sumac is often found growing in neglected areas, along roadsides, in old railroad beds, and in places where woods have been recently cleared or there has been a fire.  

Above: Sumac and rivercane growing on a roadside in Swannanoa, December.

I see Sumac as a guerilla gardener of the plant world, with dandelion and mullien and other tough front-line plants, dropping seeds in wastelands and bringing bare earth back to life.  
Sumac is one of the first plants to come in as living systems begin to recover and regenerate.  It is drought-tolerant and can survive conditions that would kill many other kinds of plants, and it helps make way for a succession of plant and animal life gradually to renew and heal damaged places.  (See the US Forest Service's page on Sumac for more information on sumac's role in rehabilitation of damaged and disturbed land, as well as other interesting facts about sumac).  

I'm thankful to sumac for being one of the tough ones on the front lines of the healing of damaged ecosystems.  And for its beauty and healing power, and its tenacious presence as an ancient native medicinal plant.  

Long live sumac--graceful, strong, and powerful plant warrior adorned in flaming red!

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References:





Saturday, July 26, 2008

Christopher's Sunflowers

At the end of last summer, Christopher harvested hundreds of seeds from sunflowers -- wild sunflowers, Mexican sunflowers, and various of the ten or so cultivars that we grew last year -- and saved them all in a big mason jar over the winter to replant this spring. He planted a giant patch at the northeast corner of our main veggie garden.

Now there are sunflowers blooming to beat the band!

Here (photos above and below) are some of the blooms in the big patch that C. planted. Besides being beautiful, they're highly functional. Their roots are breaking up the soil in a spot where we'll plant vegetables next year, and once they're done blooming, they'll make great biomass for the compost pile.

AND, they attract a swarm of garden helpers. I've watched all kinds of birds and insects get very excited about the mondo patch of sunflowers. There's a bright yellow gold finch who especially seems to love them, and the bees are all over them.

We want our garden to be swarming with beneficial insects, pollinators, and birds, so setting a table of big, gold, heaping dinner plates for those of the bird and insect persuasion is a wonderful way to bring them in.

It's hard to take any of the bloom banquet away from the birds and bees, but it's just such a pleasure to bring a few inside (see below)....

I'm feeling so grateful to C. for saving sunflower seeds and planting them - especially since he's out of town for a week, at what appears to be the height of the sunflower sunburst. It warms my heart to have these sunny reminders of him around the garden and house this week!

Friday, June 20, 2008

Fat, beautiful parsleyworm...and some less desirable garden vistors

Watering the garden this evening, I came across this beautiful creature (at left) in the towering fennel.

Thanks to the internet, I was able to perfom a quick google ("fat black yellow striped caterpillar") and discover that s/he is a parsleyworm, which is actually the caterpillar stage of the black swallowtail butterfly.

Thankfully, I did not squish before googling. After attending "Bug Church" at the Organic Growers School, I know better.

It turns out that they don't eat much and really don't affect the health of their host plants unless the plant is already weak or there is a major infestation.

In any case, this caterpillar was gorgeous. And really fat. I wonder if s/he will make it to butterflydom or get eaten by a bird first? Apparently they have "a forked, glandular process behind the head that can be everted to emit a strong odor distasteful to predators." (Arthropod Museum Notes.)


So after the photo shoot, the parsleyworm went back to her normal life and I moved on to finish watering and weeding.

A few minutes later I came across a spotted cucumber beetle and then some eggs that turned out to be cucumber beetle eggs (see below). The spotted and striped cuke beetles, tied for second place most despised insect in my life (after the mexican bean beetle), were swiftly executed (squished, drowned in steeping compost tea - what a way to go).

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Bees & Other Beneficial Insects


























Honeybees at work.....






After some inspiring bug and bee classes at this year's Organic Growers School (www.organicgrowersschool.org), CF and I are fired up to become beekeepers and more committed than ever to encouraging swarms of beneficial insects to make their homes on our land.

I took a great "honeybee stewardship" class from Diana Almond, where I learned a ton of facts, including these:
  1. Honeybees and flowering plants co-evolved, starting about 100 million years ago.
  2. Feral bees are virtually nonexistent now in North America.
  3. The number of domestic honeybee colonies in the US declined from 5.9 million in the 1940s to 2.7 million in 1995.
  4. 2/3 of the remaining 2.7 hives are "migratory" -- meaning that they are mounted on the backs of 18-wheeler trucks and driven around all over the country to pollinate various commercial crops. 1 million hives are needed for the California almond crop alone.
  5. 1/3 of what we eat and drink, and some of what we wear, comes from plants needing pollination and 80% of that pollination is done by honeybees.
  6. Non-insect pollinators (mammals and birds) are also becoming extinct or threatened at an alarming rate.
So, we were already planning to keep bees, and already knew that it was an important thing for people to be doing, but Diana's class was an affirmation and a kick in the seat of the pants to get started right away.

Here's an image that really shocked me - this photo was part of Diana's slideshow:

So all of the talk about Colony Collapse Disorder that I've heard just among non-bee people has never really been in the context of the reality that most of the bees in the US are riding around on the backs of trucks being "worked," in addition to being given antibiotics, exposed to pesticides, and etc. But apparently, most of the CCD problems with bees have been with hives that are on these big bee trucks.

We are looking forward to providing some good, stable, non-mobile homes to a bunch of bees, and learning all about organic beekeeping (we got a very cursory overview last weekend from Eric Brown of Milk & Honey Farm). Bee School here we come.

More inspiration was to be had in "Bug Church" - the intro to beneficial insects class taught by Patryk Battle and Richard McDonald (aka Dr. McBug).

Here's a maxim from Pat: "Maximize diversity. Hold your fire. Observe. Nature will do it all." Those directives were offered as the "20 second version" of the beneficial insects class, but they are pretty good words to live by.

Below: A "C7" ladybug on a yarrow flower....from Dr. McBug's extensive and very informative website.



More information on Beneficial Insects:

Meet the Beneficial Insects (Organic Gardening Mag article)

Beneficial Insects 101

Viva la buzz!