Watching all the girls go by
~Bernie Paquette (May 16 Nature Journal)
Imagine you live in an apartment complex. Not the typical two-story structure, but a round single story that is about 500 mm high compared to your body length of between 3.4–8.1 mm. The apartment is a flower pot that measures sixteen inches straight across the top. Imagine the house is filled with soil with a few dried leaves and other bits of plant material on top. Now imagine there are at least twelve holes a few mm in diameter leading down to tunnels below the soil.
You are a Metallic Sweat Bee, Subgenus Dialictus belonging to the genus Lasioglossum. “Though solitary bees such as Lasioglossum [ ] often live in proximity to each other, unlike communal bees, the nests of solitary bees are built by lone females. The female builds the nest and feeds her offspring without workers or help from other bees. Solitary bees often nest in the ground and tree bark. Solitary bees are important pollinators.” -Wikipedia
As you fly around the apartment you recognize (having memorized them earlier) the features of the area and zone in on your entrance quickly diving into the hole. You are no longer visible to the large creature sitting in a lawn chair observing you. Minutes later as you peek out of the hole, that giant is still there. How does the human perceive you? How do you perceive the human?
Likely the primary question on the bee’s mind is “Is it safe to fly out of the hole and tunnel to forage or should it duck back further down and hide out a while? The metallic sweat bee cautiously twitches its antenna - located high on the face - seemingly unsure of staying or going.
For the human (for me), the first perception is how incredibly small the hole is as well as how small this life form (the bee) is. As the bee ducks back inside the tunnel, I wonder how the bee got its name. Lasioglossum means “hairy tongue” in Greek and is referred to as sweat bees. Perhaps because they appear to crave sweat. They will seek out and lick the sweat off the skin of humans. I hope one will lick the sweat off my skin so that I can find out if they have hairy tongues!
Once the daring bee decides it is safe after jutting out about a third of its body out of the tunnel hole, it flies off to find flowers. Flowers use UV patterns to advertise to pollinators. Though many flowers look similar in color to humans, bees can see the UV patches at the base of their petals, usually acting as guides to indicate the position of nectar. Their eyes are most sensitive to green, blue, and UV. Bees, also seem to detect electric fields with an extended sense of touch. - An Immense World, Ed Young.
Meanwhile, another metallic sweat bee has come back laden with pollen and takes no time to fly around the apartment complex but instead shoots directly into a seemingly daring dive straight into its own entrance, again seemingly no bigger than itself. This reminds me of circus acts whereby a circus person climbs a very very tall ladder then dives from way on up high down to a very small container of water. I guess it's hit or miss, come out for a cheering crowd or get squished. The bee always comes out and if I am there watching I definitely cheer.
The color of the pollen (yellow) on this bee, and given that dandelions are one of the few flowers blooming nearby today, leads me to think that is where this bee has been foraging. Most Lasioglossum are generalists feeding on a number of species of flowers. A few are specialists, like the subgenus Sphecodogastra which comprises only specialists on evening primrose. Because Lasioglossum is so abundant throughout the flowering season, they are often important pollinators. Lasioglossum can be found from the earliest days of spring through the fall. Almost all of the Lasioglossum species in the US and Canada nest in the ground. - The Bees in Your Backyard, Wilson & Carril.
A spider has been running around the perimeter inside the pot, unsuccessfully attempting to climb up to the rim or find a way out of the endless loop of the circular pot. It takes me many tries to lift it out with a stick (as it keeps jumping off), finally, I manage to lift the spider out of the pot onto the wide open spaces it seemed to desire. For every creature including humans, the world as we perceive it is only that which we can perceive. For that spider perhaps the world is once again flat and endless!
Wolf Spiders and Allies Superfamily Lycosoidea
As I await the next incoming or outgoing ground-nesting bee, I cast my eye to some movement on a nearby white-colored flower pot. Low and behold another insect is circling (its) globe only this one is not trapped as it is on the outside of the flower pot. Like a moon shot, I get to take multiple photos every time the green, reddish-orange, and black Calleida punctata ground beetle comes around from its orbit around the pot. Every once in a while it stops, looks over the edge, then goes back to the duty of circumnavigation - for what purpose I am left to only imagine. Alas it, unlike the formerly trapped spider, though possibly constrained by perception, is not confined by physics. For my part, I am appreciative of this elliptical orbit of art displaying itself with regularity, every few minutes, with a burst of colors.
Next up in this menagerie of captive or not animals is a Flea Jumping Spider (Naphrys pulex). It too starts in my view scape on the outside of the (Bee complex) flower pot. Only this animal seems intently interested in ME. First, it seems to be standing on its rear legs looking up at me with some of its eight eyes - though probably does not see me well. Most spiders have eight eyes, some six or fewer, but (most) have poor vision). It seems to rely on its touch, and vibration (hopefully not taste), to figure out what I am. And so it launches, and I do mean launches itself straight at me - no spider line, just one great leap of faith - and lands on my leg. Quickly it thirsts for more knowledge - friend or foe, predator or lunch. The spider runs along my leg towards regions I would prefer a spider or any other wild creature to not venture any closer to, then does another seemingly straight up about a foot in the air - jump. If I had this fellow’s capabilities, I could pogo-stick myself over trees!
Sometime later an ant carrying a maple seed (helicopter we called them as kids) draws my attention. The ant carries the seed that is many times its length, high over its head, from side to side, or pointing down depending on what obstruction the ant faces or gap or divide that it must cross. After watching its long march and final arrival at an underground den, I revert my attention back to the bee apartment complex to see how the girls are doing.
Lasioglossum includes solitary, communal, semi-social, primitively eusocial, and parasitic species. Most are solitary. Some species build nest cells that are individual, separate, and sealed off from each other by earthen partitions. Several species build subterranean chambers with combs containing their progeny. Nests might be a few to five inches underground. - The Bees in Your Backyard, Wilson & Carril.
Each animal has its own umwelt*. (*in ethology the world as it is experienced by a particular organism). What would these creatures who go to work every day, establish a home, and raise and support a growing family, what would they think of our (humans) lifestyle, our house size, and the colors we see that they cannot? And what would they think of me having time to sit on a lawn chair watching all the girl bees go by on a warm spring day?
I am Bernie, I am an Inverter!
Though the bees have the location of each of their respective nest entrance memorized, I do not. I marked ten of the twelve nest sites.
Yes, we will forgo planting in the flower pot this year in order to Leave Room For the Wild Things (in this case the twelve-plus families of Metallic Sweat Bees).
Share your Yard, Save the World.
An unsuccessful search leads to discovery.
I wonder how many explorers went looking for something they never found yet came back reporting discoveries never imagined, never seen, or at least previously underappreciated.
May 6 - 12, 2023. Strolling back and forth with about 150 feet between, I monitor the honeyberry bushes, on one end, currants in the middle, and willows on the other - a wet area. I am hoping for a new bee species to break my logjam at 81 species. Our honeyberry bushes are already producing fruit, however, the small carpenter bees, a few sweat bees, and bumblebees attest there are still blooms offering a meal. With the leaves matured in size catching a shot of the bumblebees is getting tougher to do. While the small carpenter bees (3/8 of an inch long) who seem to be quite skittish, usually fly off as soon as I lift the camera halfway to my face, and that is only when they seldom land in the first place.
Cloud cover moves in and out adding a challenge to keep the camera settings appropriate for the shot. Growing restless, I am about to head to the wet area, when a pair of Eastern Phantom Crane Fly land on the bush 'tandem' - in the mode of procreation. What a show they put on (for me, the voyeur?). First, the female holds or carries the male dangling below, then they turn so that they sort of face each other with the thorax segmented into a C, still attached together. Later the male seems to have its head facing in the opposite direction of the female while they remain in the C position. Another Kuma Sutra for insects lesson for me.
Along the way to the willows, a May Beetle scurries in our freshly dug potato bed. No doubt we disturbed its habitat. I do hope it is successful in rebuilding its home.
The dandelions catch my eye. I find them to be the spring roses of my childhood. Today they perhaps, offer an Eastern Pine Elfin a buttery butterfly delight.
The willows offer a number of different species of bees over my course back and forth from there to the honeyberries; Clark's mining bee is so loaded with pollen I am amazed it can still fly carrying such a large load. A Nomad bee creates some excitement for me as I do not often spot a 'cleptoparasite' (cuckoo) species - they lay their eggs in the nests of other bees. The orangish-brown eye in the photo of this one is adorable, I think.
Earlier I had spotted a Cuckoo Wasp the color of the famed comic character The Green Lantern only more sparkly. This one was on a critter house I built out of pallets, bricks, blocks, straw, and other materials and with old stumps on top. On May 12 I am amazed at seeing the largest quantity of green (solitary) sweat bees I have ever encountered at one time in one place which I viewed for over two hours flying about the stumps, entering various wholes and crevices. Watching one kick out bits of wood from a hole in a stump, then peeking out the hole, was a treat.
Many times while near the willows I would stop only briefly to check on the 5-foot-high serviceberry shrubs or trees but came up empty each time. One day I wandered over seeing no insects, but pausing a bit longer than usual, when a green sweat bee landed on my camera. I think it was trying to tell me to stick around and be more patient. So I did. Though they seldom landed or stayed still for more than a few seconds I did get a few shots of some of them on the serviceberry flowers. The combination was a first for me. I am interested in, of course, recording the insects I observe, but I also record what flower the insect is on, if any, as part of the record for science and for my awareness as well. Many insects have a limited species of plant on their acceptable menu.
At a few points during these last few days, I sat in a lawn chair and let the spring come to me instead of me trying to find it. One set of insects took advantage of my anchoring, by landing on my hand and continuing their (mile-high club) procreation. A third (fellow?) came along and tried to join in but was discouraged and sent away. Apparently, they did not mind my interloping or perhaps that was the trade-off for having a safe port - the back of my hand. Are their sailors in the insect world?
Nearing the end of the day on May 12, leaving the sweat bee convention on the critter house, I wandered out for one last look of the day at the willows. I spotted a lone sweat bee on the small opening at the bottom side of a large tomato planting pot. Was it digging or finding some mineral to eat there? Who knows, but unlike its brethren, it did not seem to be disturbed by me. I moved the camera to within a few inches of the bee and took many shots over a few minutes time, seemingly without disturbing the lovely bee. What a strange place to find a bee, and one so amiable about a long sitting (for me?).
Did I up my count of bees this week and does it matter? No, and no. Why? For one, the rewards that I had not sought, imagined, or expected brought me delight. These observations may not be new discoveries to science, but they were discoveries to me just as a multi-year friendship and love can be renewed, refreshed, and found surprisingly new every day.
This leads me to believe, it is not what you look and hope for as much as what you find, observe, and appreciate. Look at what nature offers up on any given day and place, she is sure to delight you - for the day-to-day goings on of Life are a treasure to behold.
I am Bernie, I am an Inverter!
- Sabina E., Jericho
One-on-One Grandma time.
May 2, so far the warmest it has been today is the current 55 degrees Fahrenheit. Most of the day it has been in the mid-forties. Apparently, that is still *warm enough for the bumble bees though I find little else today beyond a few spiders on the prowl. No wonder, given the cool temperatures and so few plants advertising food by their buds and flowers. Most likely the trees are feeding bees and some other insects more than the low-height plants I can most easily focus upon.
Fortunately, the honeyberry and currant bushes along with some young willows that I planted a few years ago are low-level grocery stores for bees right now. All the bumble bees out this early in the year are the first-year queens, just out of their winter dens. The first I observed over the last couple of weeks were feeding for themselves but most were not carrying pollen on their **legs. Now most are doing just that, carrying food back to their new nest where they will store it and prepare a spot to lay eggs. Soon they will lay eggs and then brood or ***sit on them similar to how a chicken does to keep the eggs at the right temperature range. They may be nesting within a few hundred yards of where I observe them feeding.
I like the idea that there are not only birds but many other smaller animals including bees finding habitat in our yard suitable for their specific needs, to safely raise a family. We leave the leaves on the ground, particularly under the trees, and build brush piles, and other plant debris piles. We continue to add new native plants each year to help offer them healthy food to support their new families. Beyond native trees and shrubs, we are now also working at adding native perennials to provide blooms throughout the season.
*Bumblebees hold their wings steady and use their muscles to shiver to keep their bodies (their thorax) at about the same temperatures as ours.
**Bumble bees store pollen within specialized branched hairs, (or scopae), that are located in a groove on their hind legs (called corbiculae). Together, the scopae and the corbiculae make a pollen basket, which can be easily seen with the naked eye. And what a basket it its. Sometimes I view so much pollen on their basket, I wonder how they can still fly.
***The queen keeps the eggs warm by sitting on her wax 'nest' and shivering her muscles to keep warm. Sipping from the nectar pot gives her enough energy to incubate the eggs for several days until little white grub-like larvae emerge.
Last summer, it seemed like the bumblebees were quite tolerant of me, and so focused on collecting food that they paid me no mind, and at times even practically ignored spiders waiting to pounce on them. Sometimes they would raise an arm, particularly on a couple of times that I petted a *male. I suspect they were signalling me to quit pestering them, but then they quickly got back to their food harvesting chores. Today, the new queens, who of course do not recognize me like the summer bees might have, seem less patient with my intrusion and more disturbed by it. Every so often one buzzes in a wide circle around me for three or four laps before flying off or returning to the berry bush.
*Male bumblebees do not have stingers. Just the same I almost always resist the urge to touch them for concern that I might in some way not only disturb them, but also might perhaps cause them a health issue from residuals on my fingers.
To show them I mean no disrespect I take a short walk to another area where the willows are growing in a wet area of the yard. Some miner bees have been visiting here on warmer days recently, but today only a fly shows itself to me the first six or seven times I visit the area. On this walk-over, I spot what looks like it might be a bee on the lone dandelion blooming in this area. It flies off before I can capture a photo. Though I wait a few minutes, it does not return to the ‘yellow rose of early spring’.
I move slowly and look closely at the willow catkins hanging from stems grown five or six feet high. No luck. Then I spot a tiny flicker of movement on a short (~2-foot high) willow stem. I take a couple of photos from my standing position for insurance, then crouch and move close.
The miner bee, or mining bee (Andrena) is working very slowly, no doubt the temperature is keeping it sluggish. *Genus Adrena is in the family Andrenidae - solitary ground-nesting bees.
I watch as the bee prods the catkin not with jabs but with slow insertion as though it is sucking on a straw that is deep in a glass of milkshake and doesn’t want to drink too fast fearing a brain freeze. So different than the bumblebees a short time ago, landing on a flower, collecting pollen, and moving on to the next flower before I can aim the camera and press the focus button.
After some minutes, I no longer hear traffic, no longer sense if there is a break in the clouds, and no longer notice my knees getting wet. Though we don’t speak to each other the mining bee and I are the only discourse in our little vacuum of habitat. Later I can’t tell you what my thoughts were then. I only know I was as involved and engaged with that life form, as much as I could be, for what seemed like an entire afternoon. It felt like the few one-on-one visits I was fortunate to have with my grandmother when I visited her in California years ago.
Grandmothers and perhaps mining bees on a cool cloudy confining day seem to be able to draw attention and focus like a black hole. Everything else stops. All noise and light are lost except that inside the vacuum. You both are the only life forms in the world for a brief time that seems like an eternity of bliss.
I am Bernie, I am an Inverter!
For more compelling reasons to observe insects and other wildlife, and to read more about JULS view Jericho & Underhill Life Search - Game on! How Naturalistic Observations in the Green Mountain State of Vermont Can Enhance Your Life.
