Bees A’buzz

It was a slow start to the carpenter and bumble bee action this year, I assume because of the heavy rains experienced in Central Texas in May and June/early July. But recently the garden is a’buzz with honeybees and a variety of native bees, including the big, noisy carpenter and bumble bees.

This Horsefly-like Carpenter bee, Xylocopa tabaniformis, worked the prolific blooms of a Flame Acanthus, Anisacanthus quadrifidus, in my front garden.

These charming bees are probably my favorite bees. They’re noisy and buzzy, darling in looks. I love their racing stripes and melt at their dreamy blue eyes.

I like this up-side-down visage: bee-butt up pointed upward, proboscis-leading snout concentrated on the liquid deep in the tubular nectar fonts where the bee’s proboscis is headed.

Nectar stealing or nectar robbing is when an insect pokes or bites a hole in flowers that are too deep or small for the insect to enter from the open bloom. The insect then sips nectar without entering the flower’s innards, bypassing direct pollination.

Ole Blue Eyes here is just about to deliver its pointy proboscis, aiming for the fleshy, thin petal and the sweet stuff inside. The bee sliced the petal with its formidable mandibles to gain entry.

Bum-up view of the nectar-stealing, nectar-sipping bee. While direct pollination isn’t happening, you’ll notice grains of pollen sprinkled on Ole Blue Eyes’ body. It’s likely that some of those grains will play a role in pollination.

The other bees I’m seeing more of–and a big Huzzah! for that–are American Bumble bees, Bombus pensylvanicus. These graceful, yellow-n-black sweethearts are working many kinds of flowers right now, but a favorite bumble dining spot are the blue blooms of Henry Duelberg Sage, Salvia farinacea, ‘Henry Duelberg’. Notice the pollen booty on this bee’s pollen pantaloon, also known as a corbicula. If you look carefully, you can see a dab of golden on the other side of the bee–no doubt that pantaloon also carries a load of pollen.

My garden always enjoys more insect action, especially of the pollinator kind, as the growing season progresses. Heavy rains in spring and early summer often damage ground and wood nesters, so their procreation is slowed. Those insects rally as summer heats up and stable weather patterns settle in. In a healthy, diverse garden community, the pollinators persevere, the garden flourishes, and the gardener gives thanks.

Bumbling in Baskets

The annual American basket-flowers are nearing the end of their cycle. There are still a few stalwarts blooming, but basket-flower foliage is crispy, most flowers are spent, and seeds are scattered and scattering. Those flowers still flowering are doing what flowers do: opening prettily for the gardener and supplying sustenance for the pollinators.

Pollinators–native bees, honeybees, butterflies and hummingbirds–are active at the baskets in the early morning hours, before searing, oven-like heat sets in and the baskets close for business. Just after daybreak, there are many honeybees and nearly as many American Bumblebees at the baskets, partaking of the flowers’ gifts.

The Bumbles crawl in, around, and through the lavender filaments, adorning themselves with pollen, afterwards moving to the next available bloom. The insects buzz by one another, focused on their next landing, seemingly aware that sharing space is a necessity. Some rules of the road are employed by these critters, as there’s never a crash, nor a disputed landing spot.

Bee butt!

The bumblebees move constantly, with determination, alighting on as many flowers as possible in the few hours that the flowers beckon.

I estimate that in a week’s time, there will only be a few of these stunning wildflowers remaining in the garden. I’ll miss them with their glorious, elegant blooms, dramatic heights, and wildlife they attract, but time moves on, seasons evolve, plants change and die. It’s time. Pollinators will segue to other flowering plants as the garden advances into August.

Thousands of seeds have dropped, a few picked up by birds and maybe squirrels; most lie dormant in the soil for the near future. Winter’s cold and rain, coupled with spring’s dew and longer days will encourage germination and growth of the seeds. Most of the seedlings which appear will be pulled and composted, but those left will continue their path towards beauty and life. Next summers’ bounty is already in play.

Flexible Foliage

Leaves on my American sycamore, Platanus occidentalis, are useful indeed.  They provide beauty in waving flags of luscious green,

RICOH IMAGING

…and cooling shade for the trunk and anything (or anyone) else beneath the canopy.

The sycamore tree  exfoliates beautifully, revealing creamy white new bark.

 

Sycamore foliage also provides shelter for a bird home and a nursery for bird babies.

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Only recently have I spotted this nest in the sycamore.  I was standing in a part of my property where I don’t usually hang out, when I saw a nest structure nestled in the lower part of the tree. There are no birds there now, no doubt their having fledged earlier this summer. I’m not sure how I missed seeing it before now, but going forward,  better tree observance is in order.

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Handsome, peeling limbs serve as strong foundational support for the nest.

I suspect it was a Blue Jay, Cyanocitta cristata, nest because I know that they were active in the tree earlier in the summer–they’re wonderfully gregarious birds and even if I don’t see them, I hear them.  Plus, in perusing photos of nests, Blue Jays appear to favor building with larger sticks, which I guess makes sense because they are large-ish birds.

Dropped sycamore leaves are also versatile on terra firma.  Dead, downed, and brown leaves provide cover along the soil and pathways,

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…though that can be annoying when they drift to the gardens or patio and cluster, becoming garden “detritus.” Because of the wet year, there wasn’t as much shedding of sycamore foliage as is typical, but some dropped.

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I find the large, thick leaves graceful and lovely ON the tree, but awkward and messy on the ground and in the garden.

On occasion I’ve used a leaf as a tool to pick up and remove an insect that I’m squeamish about, or  to remove fresh goo (use your own imagination on that one) from lawn furniture surface or a  birdbath.  Never though have I utilized a Sycamore leaf to feed a bee–until about two weeks ago.  I watched an American bumblebeeBombus pensylvanicus, cruise along the ground in my back garden one morning.  I suspect that it was near the end of its life, because it wasn’t flying and bees fly when they’re healthy and productive, but not when they’re dying.  At some point, I thought that some sugar-water might be in order to nourish and reinvigorate the bee.  Per my knowledge of feeding honeybees, I mixed a tiny amount of white sugar with water, (30% sugar to 70% water).  I found a sturdy Sycamore leaf which had a slightly convex shape and poured the liquid in. Placed in the path of the bumble bee, it eventually found the leafed treat and enjoyed a snack.

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He/she sipped and slurped for several minutes.

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It vacated the sugar-water leaf for a time, but returned for more of the sweet stuff.

Eventually, the bumble left  for unknown parts–I didn’t see it again.  Ants moved in for the remaining sugary drink, and by later in the day the leaf was back to playing the role of a brown and crispy leaf, or, garden detritus–take your pick.

My American sycamore has retained most of its leaves this year and is full-foliage as we enter into fall.

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I’m glad there was at least one leaf that could be put to use for the wayward, and perhaps hungry or thirsty, American bumblebee.

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A few days late for Tree Following, I’m thanking Pat of The Squirrelbasket for graciously hosting this fun and interesting meme about trees. Check out her blog to learn about trees from all over the world.