Three Bees Pollinating

Spring sprung many months ago, summer’s hardy floral gifts, amidst Texas heat and drought, delivered color and life with attending pollinator action throughout those toasty months. Summer is finally done and autumn is a robust flowering period, full of blooming goodness. A pollinator frenzy is in full swing in my Austin garden.

The yellows, especially Plateau Goldeneye, Viguiera dentata, are the pollinators’ delight. Monarchs have mostly drifted southward along gusts delivered by the last cold front. Other butterflies seem to be on vacation, but bees are still around and about–and pollinating. Most folks know about honeybees, but native or wild bees, are common and vital in any healthy ecosystem, whether in a natural green space or a planned and loved garden. In a recent stroll through my garden, I observed multiples of three kinds of bees that were all-in with their pollination business, sharing flower space they buzzed about a Plateau Goldeneye.

Here, a honeybee works the flower, her little leg splayed out, maybe for balance or perhaps preparing to scoot over to the next flower. A bee’s version of getting a leg up?

The same bee on the same flower, all hunched up and nectaring away!

This bee isn’t a honey, but a native, or wild, bee. My best guess, utilizing this website hosted by an entomologist at The University of Texas whose research focuses on native bees, is that this little gal belongs to the leafcutter bee family.

I like this bird’s-eye view of the leafcutter bee, pollen pantaloons (aka, corbiculae) full-to-bursting with a packed load of beautiful, golden pollen.

The third bee sort zipping around was this tiny thing, most likely a native sweat bee. All native bees are efficient pollinators, regardless of size, though size dictates how much nectar is consumed and the amount of pollen that is gathered. This little one won’t sip as much nectar or pack as much pollen as her bumble relatives, but she and her sisters are excellent in their important work.

This shot captures the difference in size between the sweat and the honey bee. Both are focused on their respective flowers.

Some bees are generalists, visiting a variety of flowers, others are more particular, arriving when certain flowers are in bloom, absent from the garden when that plant is in a resting stage. How the bee knows when its favored bloom is ready for pollination is a mystery, at least to me. Entomologists understand much about honeybees, but there’s comparatively little research on native bees. There are roughly 20,000 native bee species in the world, about 4000 reside in North America, and 350 in Texas. In fact, a new bee was recently discovered and named, existing only in Texas and Oklahoma: the Andrena androfovea–a blue bee, which you can read about here. This blue bee is one of those bees that sips from only one species of plant!

I’ve “identified” roughly 15-18 native in my garden over the years. I don’t necessarily know the name of each (though I know some), as there’s not much information available, so I look at photos and make guesses. Lots of guesses. But I have learned to recognize a bumble from a carpenter, a sweat from a leafcutter, a metallic from a bee mimic. I’ve become familiar with their habits: some are wood nesters, others nest in the ground, most (except for honeybees) are solitary and make small amounts of honey to feed their offspring. I recognize the leaf ‘damage’ that bees do to certain plants in my garden, as they pack their nesting sites with leaf matter, mud, and pollen. Some native bees forage for a brief time in early spring , lay their eggs in protected wood or plant stems, then die. Others are around throughout the growing season, procreating and nectaring all the while.

Native plants and native wildlife, insects included, evolved together and need each other to survive. A vibrant ecosystem will support this symbiotic relationship which defines the life cycles and relationships of flora and fauna. Go native and watch your garden and its inhabitants bloom with life and activity!

Sweet Things

It’s good to be home. More so, 24 hours after my return to Austin last week, the sky opened and delivered a welcomed dunk of rain followed by the coolest temperatures since last April. These lovely events kicked to the curb the second hottest and driest October on record. How nice is that?! I’m glad I missed the heat; where I traveled, the weather was perfect.

The Monarchs are coming through, too.

They’re late this year, owing to the drought, I suspect. Amber-winged beauties waft through my garden, movements highlighted by autumn sunshine, wings opening and closing as they perch. Proboscises unfurl at floral fonts in search of the next sweet meal.

The garden is in its second spring, blooming madly, providing for all who partake.

Bees are busy at this bloom-up time, as are birds nibbling seeds from the same spent blooms.

I spent a good deal of October in Europe with Amsterdam as a base, Belgium as a new-to-me place to explore, and Georgia to celebrate these two Sweet Things as they married in Georgia’s capital city, Tblisi.

Why Tblisi? Son-the-Groom is American, Beloved-the-Bride is Iranian. Georgia offers easy legal requirements for foreigners to marry and every country in the world has signed on to the legality of civil marriages performed in Georgia. As they currently live in Erbil, Iraq (Kurdistan Autonomous Region) and are planning to move to an EU country in the not-too-distant future, marrying in Georgia was a romantic and practical slam-dunk for these two crazy kids!

The photo of the newlyweds was taken in the Japanese garden section of the National Botanical Garden of Georgia, a glorious green space in a busy, congested city. The botanical garden is located in the heart of the Old Town, with the highest point, guarded by Mother Georgia, overlooking the sprawling, dynamic city.

Winding up and down pathways along the Tsavkisis-Tskali River, the garden is located within the river gorge, waterfalls and hills define the landscape. The garden boasts well over 4000 plant families, with pockets of formal gardens surrounded by forested areas and the soothing sound of water.

It’s an old garden, established in the 1600s and expanded over the centuries. In our few days in Tblisi, we spent a good deal of time there, also exploring parts of the Old Town area.

Post wedding, an afternoon train to the Black Sea port and resort city of Batumi, in the Georgian Republic of Adjara, deposited us in a place with a very different vibe. However, we found ourselves once again charmed by gardens. The Batumi Botanical Garden is a huge garden, covering 270 acres, with thousands of profiled plants, particularly focused on subtropical flora. The pathways are steep, the focused garden exhibitions lush and available for exploration.

Stunning views of the Black Sea present themselves through groups of large trees.

Interestingly, both botanical gardens focused on trees of the world, while the formal gardens were placed like surprise gifts along the pathways. There were quite a few trails and we spent most of a day in Batumi Botanical garden, grateful for places to rest and enjoy the beautiful and peaceful space, appreciative of those whose wisdom and foresight created such a place.

I was tickled to find a small section dedicated to native plants. One plant was in showy bloom, a Prenanthes petiolata.

I used my iNaturalist app to identify it as ‘a member of Lettuce Subtribe (Subtribe Lactucinae)’, native to the Caucasus and Western Asia. It’s always nice to meet a new plant.

Funnily enough, in Belgium and then again in Georgia at the botanical gardens and other places in Tblisi and Batumi, I came across this plant: a cultivar of the native Texas Salvia greggi, Salvia greggi, ‘Hot Lips’.

I’ve seen ‘Hot Lips’ for sale at nurseries here in Austin, but I’ve never grown this cultivar. The Europeans sure like it and it certainly grows happily where I visited.

I was impressed with the cleanliness of both botanical gardens. As well, while Batumi is focused on tourism, especially with the many casinos, the public parks were many, varied, and well used by the population. My sense is that folks in Tblisi and Batumi appreciate the special qualities of each garden, are respectful of natural habitats, taking care to keep the trails and gardens free of litter. I haven’t necessarily seen that in other European (or American, for that matter) gardens.

It’s good to be home, but it was a great trip with sweet memories that I’ll cherish.

Sunset over the Black Sea from my hotel balcony.

After Dinner Drink?

On a recent evening my back garden was honored with a visit from this immature Cooper’s Hawk, Astur cooperii, who spent time at one of my bird baths. The bird sat and surveyed its surroundings,

…took thirsty dives into the water,

…and with beak pointed to the sky, gulped, gulped, gulped, enjoying a cool water drink at the end of a day.

At first, I assumed he’d landed looking for dinner, but the squirrels were somewhat active (not directly under the hawk’s beak, but nearby) and birds were around, though giving this formidable predator its space. Cooper’s Hawks typically hunt birds, but I’ve witnessed one catch a squirrel. A successful predator will hunt whatever is available and catch-able.

I wouldn’t want to be on the catching end if these things–would you?

Given the hawk’s lack of interest in a meal and its focus on the water bowl, I wondered if this one had dined earlier, in some other venue, and was in my garden for its after dinner drink.

The hawk sat, sipped, looked around and eventually hopped to the opposite side of the water bowl. This young Cooper’s has a regal form: bright, intelligent eyes, glorious plumage, and a dignified figure.

My favorite photo of this half hour of hawk watching is this one.

The hawk has a I meant to do that! look on its face. Maybe it took a page out of the White-winged Dove book and pooped in the water? Or perhaps it belched a bit and was embarrassed? Do hawks belch? Do hawks get embarrassed?

Shortly afterwards, my hawk buddy winged to the overhead utility wires behind my property and then onward to its perch for the night.

I love to spy on the flitty birds in my garden, both migratory and resident. They’re quick, agile, easily hidden in the foliage and a triumph when I get a good look and photograph. That said, it’s rewarding and so much easier to watch and appreciate a bigger bird. It’s truly a gift when one lands and spends time resting in the garden.