Linden Swoon

 It was a stressful morning. I had to leave the house by nine, but everything was against me. I shook the dust out of my beekeeping suit, but I couldn't find one of my gloves. Bags and pots overturned. I put my bus tickets and all my bras in the wash. (Don't ask.) I couldn't find anything in the fridge to being for lunch and change for the bus was MIA. Finally, I just chucked some ice and cold tap water in a bottle and headed to a coffee shop to get a sandwich. (Yes, dear reader, it was closed.) However on the way there I was waylaid by a sight that I figured was a good excuse to be late for a hive inspection. The bees were swooning.

 I came upon two cute little shaggy dogs on the sidewalk surrounded by bees. "What's this?" I wondered? Then I looked at the linden blossoms that had fallen from the trees and dried in drifts of golden yellow. It was swarming with bumble bees. Everywhere I looked bees were frantically sifting through the blossoms. It was a frenzy. The dog owner was sitting on the nearby apartment stoop. "The bees have been doing that for two days," he said.

 It seemed as though the hot muggy weather had released the essential oils in the blossoms and it was driving them around the bend. One bee was frantically sticking her tongue in a blossom that had not yet dried up. I snapped these photos and then I hopped on the number three bus down the hill. I was eager to share my story with the other bee nerds I was meeting.

After the hive inspection I came home by way of the linden trees. There were no frenzied bees, but dotted here and there was the occasional dead bumble bee and one honey bee. I looked at the leaves on the trees and then I realized these were the silver lindens, Tilia Tomentosa, that are reported to be toxic to bees. The bottom branches had been pruned up so high that I had failed to distinguish them from the other lindens. I had been watching a silver linden around the corner for days, looking for dead bees, but everything there was hunky dory and the foraging honey bees and bumble bees were very much alive.

 So the mystery deepens . . . . What is it about these lindens that causes some bees to dance to their death? Are the older bees the ones who succumb to a linden swoon?

 If you look at the wings of the dead honeybee you'll see they are quite ragged, so she was probably on her last legs. Did she experience an alternative reality under the influence of the linden blossoms? Was it a beautiful way to die?

A Bee--Themed Block Party!

 I am always happy to give a bee talk at a local block party. On Sunday we had the perfect day for it. The parents had arranged for the children to decorate mason bee boxes. Some were filled with blocks of drilled wood that will be stuffed with paper tubes and others will be filled with hollow bamboo reeds. These can be nailed to a house or a sheltered fence facing south east to get the morning sun. In the spring the folks will go to Wild Birds Unlimited to buy some cocoons to release mason bees for the houses.

One little boy sat down and declared, "I am not here to learn anything!" I guess he was adamant about the separation of school and holiday. "Okay, we won't learn anything," I said.  "I'll just show you some pictures of bees." Turns out he was very well informed about bees and wasps, having watched one of the many excellent documentaries out there now for kids.

 Two of the easiest things you can do for bees is letting your brassicas flower and putting out water for your bees, like I have done in the photos below. You can modify a bird bath by filling it with stones, or use shallow plates and dishes with stones and moss for the bees to drink from.

I went through all the types of bees and the roles of the bees in the hive, then we went on a bee safari, looking for bees and good bee plants. The best plants we found were buddleja, ( which comes with an invasive warning), blue lacy hydrangea, and lavender.

A honeybee obliged us by crawling onto a girl's hand and groom herself. "How do you know it's a girl?"they ask suspiciously. "It's the girls who come out and forage," I explain. "Drones have big eyes and they are longer, larger bees." You don't often see drones out and about far from the hive. They are usually inside the hive eating honey or inside another hive eating honey. (Brian Campbell told me that male bees have a free passport to enter other hives, which also makes them a vector for spreading mites and diseases.) Drones are in training for that big mating flight, which is their ultimate and final achievement. Once the summer comes to an end they are turfed out of the hive.

I explain that the worker bee isgrooming the pollen out of her eyes, grooming the pollen off all the hairs in her body. She's even grooming her tongue. She's like a cat! "She's just like my dog," one little boy says. She seems to be trying to fly, but not being able to do it. I think she might be at the end of her life cycle, I explain. Bees only live for about six weeks at this time of the year and foraging is the final job in a bee's life. In fact, as you can see in the photograph below, her right wing has become ragged and damaged.

In the meantime, a couple complains about a wasp nest under their stairs. I try to convince them to hire Joe Wasp to come an humanely remove it without poison.  You don't want wasp poison around adults, children, pets or bees.

I am very happy this block is carrying on a tradition of bee--themed block parties. This is a great legacy for the children who live here. Check out what we did last time!

Bee Plant of the Day: Coreopsis

 In the first week of July the coreopsis started blooming. The perennial form is a wonderful well-behaved plant that expands a bit every year. It is a cheerful low maintenance plant and I see the city is growing them in sunny hot spots. Check out the shadow of this little sweat bee. Doesn't it look like she is secretly sticking her tongue out at the photographer. Cheeky!

 Daisies are also blooming. They are not my favorite perennial because they are quite agressive spreaders and they smell like stinky feet. Maybe that's why it's a favorite of syrphid flies. This is another classic composite flower, and this little leaf cutter doesn't seem to mind the funk.

 Scientists call her megachilidae--I just call her cutie pie. Her little shield-shaped abdomen is coated underneath with pollen and she tends to raise her back end up--there must be a yoga pose name for that--upward bee as opposed to downward dog.

This is a photo of a syrphid fly on a daisy--I have saved an article in a magazine about the decline of bees that featured a similar photograph. Real bee nerds chuckle at this sort of mistake.

Along with lavender and linden, this hedge plant is blooming and is teeming with bees, mostly honeybees in this case. I think it's a kind of syringa with thick waxy leaves--more research is required on that ID, but it makes a fabulous bee plant hedge, high and dense.

ETA: So, I think this might be a form of privet. If it is, apparently honeybees love it, but it gives un unpleasant odor to honey which beekeepers tend to feed back to the bees. I will continue to do some detective work on this.

Under the Laburnums

We really should start a tradition of picnics under the laburnums when they are thrumming with bumble bees.

 The bumble bees and honey bees also love these alliums which look like fireworks.

And for the calming version of the alliums, head over to the white garden.

 I like this white version of the perennial cornflower, especially with a side order of honeybees.

 Masterwort is a good bee plant for dreary late spring days.

 This shows the inspired interplanting, integrating the shades of pale green and the burgundy, with a good use of texture.

 There were bumble bees in the red white and blue comfrey.

 The pollen from this false indigo is lighter in color than the lupin pollen. ˙Her suitcases are overflowing!

 This honeybee fits so nicely in the rosemary flowers. Her abdomen in distended with a nectar load.

 

It's bloomin' squid!

 There weren't any bees in this columbine patch, but there were some mining bees hanging around the green mulch nearby.

 You can really see why this is called milk thistle.

Another good choice for your white bee garden. The milk thistles I've grown have always been purple.

Here are my seedlings waited to be potted up.