Bee Mama Missive: Honey Flow, Honey!

Posted on November 11, 2014 by Tina

My honeybees have been busy bees this autumn. They’re all over the fall blooming perennials like Goldeneye, Viguiera dentata,

...and Frostweed, Verbesina virginica.

And let’s not forget how much the honeybees (and everyone else, it seems) work the Blue Mistflower, Conoclinium coelestinum.

As well, honeybees adore the blooms of Coral Vine, Antigonon leptopus.

When I walk into the back garden, day or night, the fragrance of honey drifts from my hives. Mmmm. Breathe deep. That honey-strong fragrance indicates that there is a honey flow happening and it’s been going on for a while. Honey flow occurs when there are blooms galore and plenty of nectar to gather and honey is busily bee-ing made.

Recently, we checked both hives and Scar’s three boxes are full of comb and honey.

Mufasa has been the weaker of the two hives, but its two boxes were also full of comb and honey and ready for a third box. So we prepared another set of top bars for Mufasa’s third box. We melted down some frozen comb from the July honey extraction,

…to add to the bars. This little track of wax will help the girls start their comb-building.

Before adding the third box to Mufasa, we sneaked a peek to assure that all is well. The comb in Mufasa’s second box is heavy with honey and larvae.

However, If you look closely,

…you can see how the comb is undulated–sort of wavy-gravy kinda comb,

…not neat, tidy and vertical comb aligned with the bars as it’s supposed to be.

This, dear readers, is an example of poor beekeeping management. In early September, while checking Mufasa, one of the combs broke off of the bar. Unfortunately with the Warre type hives that we built, this easily happens. I made the beekeeper’s executive decision to place the broken comb back into the box, as best I could, rather than removing the comb and the honey. If it was earlier in the growing season, I would have removed the comb and extracted honey and the bees would simply rebuild–after all, that’s what they do. But the latest broken comb incident occurred late in our growing season and I didn’t want to take honey from the bees. So, I dropped the comb in, knowing that they wouldn’t repair it as perfectly as it was originally built. Given that our beekeeping goals are not so much about the production of honey for us, but for the bees themselves, it’s a reasonable decision to make.

Assuming our hives survive winter, my best amateur guess is that there will be honey left over and we’ll extract it then, along with the wonky comb. With our Warre hives, when we take honey, we have to take comb too, as there is no straightforward way to extract the honey without crushing the comb. It’s simply how the design works. Next spring, the hive will have the whole growing season to rebuild and restock their honey stores.

We added the third floor to Mufasa a couple of weeks ago and when recently checked, the bees completed two bars with comb and honey. That’s fine and expected; they’ll build more comb over time.

I’ve continued observing a few Small Hive beetles in both hives, which you can read about here, but not many and not every time I check. When I opened Mufasa this past week, I saw and killed what looked like two Wax Moth larvae. Well, I knew they would invade eventually. I opened both hives and didn’t see any webbing that is indicative of a mass infestation of the Wax Comb moth. Whoop! But I am popping Mufasa’s top off most days to check–just in case. In one of the articles I read about the Wax Comb moth, the author suggested that if the beekeeper kills the moth larvae, then drops the dead larvae into the hive, it teaches the bees to kill the larvae as invaders. I have my doubts about that particular management practice, but that’s what I did–not because I’d read to do that, but because I was grossed out and offended to see the two larvae crawling along Mufasa’s hive.

Bee Mama is protective of her little bees.

We’ll thoroughly check both hives at least one more time before true winter sets in. Both hives have plenty of honey stores (fingers crossed) for the winter and we’ll see how they fare.

The bees continue their work. Foraging,

….pollinating,

…sipping at their local watering hole,

….and being bees.

Tree Following: Texas Retama in November 2014

Posted on November 7, 2014 by Tina

I’m happy to participate for the first time with Lucy and her Tree Following meme which is celebrated on the 7th of every month on Loose and Leafy blog. I discovered this charming gardening meme while researching garden blogging memes and it appeals to me. I relish the idea of a month-to-month, year-long study of a particular garden subject through its seasonal and gardening changes.

So, my tree for the coming year will be–drumroll please–the Retama, Parkinsonia aculeata, which is living happily in my garden in Austin, Texas, USA.

My Retama is situated in a moderate-sized urban garden, flanked on its right by a large, native Red Oak tree and a smaller native Mountain Laurel tree and on its left by a non-native Crepe Myrtle (which belongs to the back neighbor). Also and unfortunately, during the coming year of Retama-watching, we’ll have to tolerate the unattractive electric lines which span unceremoniously across the back of my property and will appear in many of the Retama photos.

Yuck. I don’t see those lines when I stroll my garden, gazing admiringly at the Retama or other garden pretties, but I certainly notice them in photographs.

I just want you to know that I know the lines are there.

We’ll cover the basics today, accompanied by some November Retama photos. The Retama, Paloverde, Mexican Palo Verde, Jerusalem thorn, and Lluvia de Oro is a native-to-Texas tree with many names, it seems. Its native range is Central Texas, west to Arizona and southward to South America. It’s a small tree, usually 15-20 feet tall, with airy foliage and yellow bloom clusters in the summer months.

Silhouetted against a gray sky, its foliage and branch forms are graceful and elegant.

The bright green, tiny leaves are borne along a pair of stalks, opposite one-another.

The fine foliage gives a feathery, soft appearance to the tree. The Retama is deciduous, but the bark remains green, even during winter.

The bark is completely green when the tree is young, developing a layering of textured orangy-brown bark as the tree ages, though the green bark remains a characteristic feature. The bark reminds me of the outer layer of cantaloupe.

Thorns grow along the branches,

…and yes, those thorns hurt when the gardener bumps against them while working around the tree. Which I’ve done. Numerous times.

Ouch!

The seed pods are typical legumes, which makes some sense as this tree is in the Pea (Fabaceae) family.

The blooms are gone on my Retama as it is well into autumn, with shorter days and cooler temperatures. But the tree remains attractive and useful for the birds, like this migrating Blue-gray Gnatcatcher.

The tree is a favorite of many birds.

Retama.

When I was growing up, my mother called it Palo Verde. I’m not quite sure why I don’t use that moniker for this beautiful tree, but by whatever name it’s called, Retama is lovely and unusual and I look forward to studying it more closely this next year.

Thanks to Lucy for hosting Tree Following–please pop over to Loose and Leafy and check out trees being followed from all over the world.

Wildlife Wednesday, November 2014

Posted on November 5, 2014 by Tina

I should call this month’s post: what you notice when you bother to pay attention. The reason I started Wildlife Wednesday was (unselfishly) to promote planting and gardening for wildlife and (selfishly) to improve my own observation, identification, and photographic skills. One thing I’ve learned is just how much wildlife actually resides in my gardens that I hadn’t fully appreciated. I wasn’t oblivious to the myriad of creepy, crawly, flitty pollinator/seed distributor-types, but I didn’t notice them all that much. Bees? Oh sure, they’re in the garden, but don’t ask me to tell the difference between species. The birds were easy to identify, as long as they were colorful or in some other way caught my eye. All those little brown/gray/tan things? They were just “twitty birds” to me. Butterflies, because of their obvious beauty, were much easier to discern, but I didn’t necessarily observe and identify moths or the many little skippers out there, which are important pollinators, along with the most beautiful butterfly. I’m still more likely to be aware of the conspicuous; sometimes, that’s all I have time or patience for. But in these past few months, in focusing my observations on life-beyond-the-plants, I’m amazed at what I’ve seen that I wasn’t aware of. I have grown to value, even more than before, the abundant diversity residing in my patch of the Earth.

I must have spent fifteen minutes attempting to get a decent photograph of this pollen-heavy leafcutting bee,

..as it worked the blooms of a Henry Duelberg Sage. At least I think it’s a leafcutting bee, which is categorized as a Megachile species. I was more fascinated at how this little bee moved around, so laden with pollen. At one point she rested along the stem.

Just afterwards, she lumbered away in flight, her corbiculae, which I like to call pollen pantaloons, loaded with valuable cargo. Honestly, I wasn’t sure she could fly, she was carrying so much pollen. But fly she did.

Throughout this blooming fall, I’ve seen many individuals of this species of Tachinid fly at blooming plants, like Frostweed.

The first of these flies that I saw was at a distance and I assumed it was some sort of black bumblebee. Upon closer inspection,

…it had that definite fly look about it. Those huge eyes! And don’t you just love those hairs sticking out of its abdomen?

Interestingly, I’ve observed these flies exclusively on the Frostweed and White Mistflower blooms–both white flowers, though I couldn’t find any information that suggests they prefer white blooms.

Of course, I must brag about my little honeybees,

…as they work flowers for the benefit of the hive(s).

Throughout October, I’ve seen several types of hover fly species in the gardens. The Common Oblique Syrphid, Allograpta obliqua, is remarkably photogenic.

This little “flower fly” is a beneficial garden resident as it sips nectar in its adult stage and controls aphids in its larval stage, as a little green worm. Beautiful to look at and valuable for gardens,

…they’re good garden partners.

And of course, no parade of October-in-Austin insect photos are complete without a bevy of butterfly images. The Monarchs, Danaus plexippus, have been daily visitors through most of October, nectaring on favorites like the Gregg’s Mistflower.

A relative of the Monarchs, the Queen, Danaus gilippus, also prefers Gregg’s Mistflower,

…as does the American Painted Lady, Vanessa virginiensis,

…as does the Mournful Duskywing, Erynnis tristis.

I guess the garden lesson demonstrated here is that Gregg’s Mistflower is a must-have wildlife attracting plant. It’s pretty, too.

Common in Austin, the Pipevine Swallowtail, Battus philenor, is a high, strong flyer. Though this one,

…looks a little worse for wear. It was nice to see him one sunny afternoon, because I haven’t enjoyed many of his kind visiting my gardens this year.

As we head into cooler temperatures, the various dragon and damselflies will be dormant. I spied this beauty, a Springwater Dancer, Argia plana, sunning himself on the rocks which border my pond.

He may be the last one I see this autumn, but I’m sure he and his Odonata brethren will return next spring to grace my gardens.

I think this little insect is a sweat bee of the Halictidae family. He/she was busily working a Goldeneye bloom. Small bloom, smaller bee. I thought that I would definitely find a photo and identifying information for this critter, but didn’t locate information which gives me total confidence on my identification. I’ll have to take a guess on this one.

But it’s an example of what you notice when you pay attention. Unobtrusive and small, I might not have seen this native bee (of whatever variety) if I wasn’t looking for wild visitors.

This Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, Polioptila caerulea, was hopping around in my Retama tree one Sunday afternoon as I attempted to photograph a Tufted titmouse.

The Gnatcatcher is apparently a summer resident in Central Texas, before migrating south, but I don’t know that I’ve ever seen one before.

More than likely I have seen a Gnatcatcher, but relegated it to the category of “generic neutral-colored bird,” which I’m afraid I sometimes do. My bad.

He’s another example of what you notice when you pay attention. And I never did get a decent photo of a Tufted titmouse.

This American Redstart, Setophaga ruticilla, visited and this is the best shot I could manage.

The photo is poor quality, in part because I was so excited to find a bird that I’d never seen (I need to work on that breathe deep and focus thing), but also because he was flitty and flighty in his movements. Then my dog waddled near to where the bird was. Then the cat decided to stroll in the general vicinity of Mr. Redstart. Well, he’s no fool and he flew away. Migratory through Central Texas, on his way to Central and South America for winter, I saw him a little later in an oak tree, but it was late and he just wouldn’t cooperate for a photo. After looking at photos of both the male and female Redstarts, I believe I observed a female mid-month working her way among my perennial shrubs. Alas, no photo of her either.

The Lesser Goldfinches, Spinus psaltria, descended on the Goldeneye as the flowers went to seed.

They were around for a week or two, making themselves at home.

I haven’t seen them in about two weeks. I live on the edge of their year round habitat, but it’s possible the visiting crew headed south. I did read that they tend to move around quite a bit. I still have Goldeneye seeding out; I wish the Lessers would stop by for some meals.

And I’m always amaze at the noise the petite Carolina Wren, Thryothorus ludovicianus, makes.

This little guy is a common bird in my gardens and packs a wallop of sound from that tiny body. This fellow was singing away just after sunrise.

Lots happened in my garden during October and I’m sure yours also hosted plenty of wild action. Please join in posting about the wild garden visitors for November Wildlife Wednesday. Share the rare or mundane, funny or fascinating, beneficial or harmful critters you encounter. When you comment on my post, please remember to leave a link to your Wildlife Wednesday post so we can enjoy a variety of garden wildlife observations.