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Showing posts with label honey bee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label honey bee. Show all posts

Saturday, February 22, 2014

Don't Underestimate the Native Pollinators


Honey bee and several native bees on flowers of fruit trees
© Beatriz Moisset
 The concern for honey bees has exploded in recent years. A day doesn't go by without a new article on the media or comments on numerous nature blogs. Some are agonized cries of help with words such as: Save the bees to save our food supply! Honey bees are going extinct, we are next! Almost completely lost in the shuffle are native pollinators, namely the 4,000 species of bees in the US.

Most of the public is unaware that native pollinators could supply a substantial amount of crop pollination. In many instances one or another native bee or an entire cadre of them results in more efficient pollination than that of honey bees. Here are a few examples:

In an apple orchard, 250 orchard mason bees can do as much as 15,000 to 20,000 honey bees. Squash bees are early risers and are likely to do more pollination of pumpkins and squash than the late arrivals—honey bees and bumble bees. The Southeastern blueberry bee, Habropoda laboriosa, is capable of pollinating $20 worth of blueberries in her lifetime. Many native bees work in wetter or colder weather than honey bees. The alkali bee and the non-native alfalfa leaf cutter bee pollinate a higher percentage of visited flowers than honey bees do. Some small orchards and vegetable fields get most of their pollination done by native bees.

Many native bees practice buzz pollination,
needed by tomatoes and other crops
© Beatriz Moisset
All and all according to some studies, native bees provide $3 billion worth of pollination to agriculture, while honey bees' contribution is valued at $15-18 billion. If we put native bees to work, we could reverse these proportions. Perhaps the best way out of the so-called honey bee crisis is to find the way to take better advantage of the other bees. How difficult would that be?
A hundred years ago native bees played an important role on crop pollination. As far back as seventy or eighty years, several authors noticed that bumble bee and solitary bee populations were dropping. This loss was most noticeable in larger farms where sometimes fruit or vegetable yield suffered by the absence of pollinators. Nobody seemed terribly concerned as long as the honey bee could be brought into service. Some observers knew that native bees were more efficient in many cases, but felt that the ease with which honey bees can be managed compensated for this drawback.


Some native bees are just as efficient as honey bees
at pollinating fruit trees
© Beatriz Moisset
Intensive farming grew as did the need for pesticides, and beehives started to be transported long distances and in large numbers to do their duty. It was the birth of the pollination industry involving beekeeping practices far removed from what would be considered natural. It shouldn't surprise us that such an unsustainable system is causing troubles for honey bees.

Can we bring native pollinators back after they continued to lose ground for the past century? Are there enough left around to take over the task of pollinating our crops? Even without statistics, we can be sure that only a tiny fraction of the previous populations remains. Perhaps, some species are precariously hanging on the verge of extinction or have already disappeared.


Dead solitary bee © Beatriz Moisset
No species takes the road to extinction willingly. Every creature, large or small, fights tooth and nail, or mandible and tarsal claw as the case may be, to stay alive and procreate. A few years ago, an entomologist found a miner bee's nest in a flower pot in his backyard. Another bee expert encountered a rare species of bee, regarded close to extinction, in the very heart of Washington DC, in a butterfly garden at the Washington Mall. With remarkable tenacity, these little survivors had managed to find just enough resources and shelter to raise their families in the middle of the concrete jungle.

We should not give up hope. Native pollinator populations can be brought back to the levels of yesteryear; perhaps then they can resume pollinating the crops that feed us.

Pollinators. © Beatriz Moisset.
Update, April, 2014. I followed some published reports when I said "native bees provide $3 billion worth of pollination to agriculture, while honey bees' contribution is valued at $15-18 billion." However this may be shortchanging native pollinators. Perhaps they do a lot more. A publication by Claire Kremen states that in California  native pollinators are responsible for $2.4 billions and honey bees for $3.9 billions. In other words, in that state native pollinators are responsible for almost 40% of all agricultural pollination. I will keep searching the truth.


List of articles

Beginners Guide to Pollinators and Other Flower Visitors


© Beatriz Moisset. 2014 


Monday, February 10, 2014

Alfalfa Pollination




What is the most important insect-pollinated crop? Not a fruit or a vegetable but alfalfa. Yes, alfalfa, not because we consume large amounts of their sprouts, but because cattle needs this food. Thus: no alfalfa, no beef or milk.

This crop was first introduced in California during the gold rush. Alfalfa farming grew from there at a steady pace to what it is today, the third largest crop, after corn and soy bean. A few species of bumble bees and solitary bees took a look at this exotic flower, found it to their liking and proceeded to pollinate it. It wasn't a big leap; this plant's blossoms resemble those of other members of the pea or bean family. The native pollinators were familiar with bean flowers and adapted easily to the new arrival.

Alfalfa blossom. H. © Zel. Wikicommons
Peas, beans, alfalfa, clover and several other plants have butterfly-like (papilionaceous) flowers. The lower petals form an enclosure, shaped like the keel of a boat. This structure holds the sexual parts, the anthers and pistil. When an insect lands on the flower, a trigger mechanism makes it snap open or trip the flower. This is how pollination is accomplished.

Honey bees were not present in California when the earliest fields of alfalfa were cultivated. The first beehive arrived in 1853, just one solitary hive; a few others had died in transit. It took many years for the honey bee populations to build up to significant levels. This didn't matter because the wild bees did an excellent job.

New Zealand wasn't so lucky when it started growing alfalfa to feed the recently introduced cattle. The few native pollinators were stumped by the new flower. They lacked the necessary equipment and dismissed the strange blossoms. Year after year, hay grew luxuriantly, but no seeds. Alfalfa growers resorted to importing a few species of bumble bees from Europe to cut down the expenses of having to buy seed every year. Thus, industrious bumble bees saved the day in that country.

Scotch broom, a papilionaceous flower, being tripped. © Beatriz Moisset
 Honey bees detest the rough treatment alfalfa flowers subject them to and soon learn a trick of their own. They enter the flower from the side and help themselves to nectar without tripping its mechanism. Only naïve, youthful ones pollinate flowers. Despite the honey bees' poor performance, most alfalfa farmers resort to them because of the convenience in using a managed species.

In addition to the honey bee, two other species of alfalfa pollinators are managed to some extent and used commercially. They are the Japanese alfalfa leafcutter bee and the native alkali bee.

The populations of native bees have been severely reduced in the last one hundred years largely because of intensive agriculture. Restoring their numbers and putting them to work in alfalfa fields would be an arduous task but a worthy one. Some farmers find that, when they include flowering and nesting site places in their fields or orchards, the health of the crop improves and the need for pesticides diminishes. Thus, alfalfa pollination could be done entirely and more efficiently by native bees. This form of agriculture would be more sustainable than the present methods.

List of articles
Bring Back the Native Pollinators
Will We all Die if Honey Bees Disappear?
Growing Insects: Farmers Can Help to Bring Back Pollinators
Organic Farming for Bees


© Beatriz Moisset. 2014

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Official State Insects


Honey bee. © Beatriz Moisset
Did you know that most states have an official insect? Probably not. You may have heard of state birds and state flowers, or even state butterflies. But, who would have thought of state insects! Actually most states have an official insect, or, at least an official butterfly. Some even have both. Just for fun, try to imagine which insect you would select to represent your state. Take a few minutes before reading further or checking this complete list. Think harder; are you drawing a blank? I will tell you later my choice for the state of Pennsylvania.

If you picked the honey bee, you are in the majority. Seventeen states made the same decision, not a very imaginative one. That is almost half of all states with an official insect. Tennessee, not satisfied with two state insects, the firefly and the ladybug, added the honey bee as its official agricultural insect. Kentucky did the same.

The notion that the honey bee could represent a state surprises me because it isn't a native insect. Europeans introduced it to this continent in the 1600s. It is an agricultural species, not a member of the local wildlife. Tennessee and Kentucky seem to be the only ones that got it right when making it their official agricultural insect. It shouldn't be so hard to find a useful native insect to represent each state considering that there are thousands of them.

Monarch butterfly © Beatriz Moisset

Seven states have chosen the monarch butterfly; not surprising considering that the monarch is so well known and loved. Actually three of those states (Minnesota, Vermont and West Virginia) picked the monarch as their state butterfly, in addition to their official insect. I wonder which is truly well known: the butterfly itself or just its iconic image. Most people can't tell a monarch from one of its look-alikes, the queen, the soldier, or the viceroy butterflies. In fact, many see a fritillary and think it is a monarch despite clear differences in pattern and size. Kudos to Kentucky whose official butterfly is the Viceroy! They really know their insects.

Where this list of official state insects gets amusing is when the "insect" in question refers to dozens or even hundreds of related species. The ladybug has been selected by six states ignoring the fact that ladybugs, better called lady beetles, include around 500 species, not all charming or beneficial. Did you know that a few species eat plants, rather than insect pests? They are pests themselves, like the Mexican bean beetle and the alfalfa beetle. Also, did you know that a couple of dozens were introduced from other lands? North Dakota deserves congratulations for choosing the convergent lady beetle. They, too, know their insects.

Convergent lady beetle © Beatriz Moisset

In addition to North Dakota and Kentucky, a few other states show their knowledge of insects, for instance, Maryland with the Baltimore Checkerspot Butterfly (Euphydryas phaeton). This handsome creature well deserves its name because of its checkerboard pattern. South Carolina chose the Carolina mantis, another brilliant choice.


Carolina mantis. © Kaldari. Wikicommons
I promised to tell you my preference for the state of Pennsylvania. The state insect is the firefly, not bad; but with 150 species of fireflies, later on it was narrowed down to the species Pennsylvania Photuris (Photuris pensylvanica). Did you know that some fireflies are diurnal and have no light?


Ellychnia corrusca, winter firefly, diurnal or active during the day. © Beatriz Moisset
I would choose a beautiful little metallic green bee. It is small and goes easily unnoticed to the point that it doesn't even have a common name. Its scientific name, Augochlora pura, means "magnificent pure green bee." The public may not know about this little beauty, but it can be quite common. Mountain mint flowers can act as magnets for this hard-working pollen gatherer. Recently I saw as many as a hundred bees on each bush of mountain mint in a garden with more than a dozen such plants.

The magnificent pure green bee. © Beatriz Moisset

Would you have any suggestions for the official insect of your own state?

List of articles


© Beatriz Moisset. 2013

Sunday, June 16, 2013

One Bite out of Three and Wildlife



So, we all agree that we owe one third of our food to pollinators. Now let us stop thinking about us; instead let us devote a few minutes to our companions on planet Earth. Does wildlife need pollinators as much as we do? It seems that nobody has looked at this matter systematically, thus, it is not an easy question to answer. Yet, we can try.

I will try to look at the diets of some feathered and furred creatures, mammals and birds and ignore for now the scaly or slimy sorts, amphibians, fish and reptiles. I will merely list the foods that need the services of pollinators, rather than attempting to estimate percentages for lack of information in the matter. What we are trying to see is whether wildlife requires the services of pollinators. Also, I will not bore you with long lists of animals and their diets, simply limit myself to some better known examples.


Birds that come to our backyard feeders are easy to observe. They show a preference for sunflower, thistle and peanuts. Summer and winter, many birds depend on berries, from blueberries to raspberries to crabapples to holly. Of course, not all their food is insect pollinated like the ones mentioned above. Many birds feed on insects and or grass seed. You can learn more about the role of pollinators on the diets of some of the most beloved songbirds such as wood thrushes and blue birds at the North American Pollinator Protection Campaign fact sheet.


Another common wildlife of our forests and backyards is the squirrel. The eating habits of squirrels are similar to ours as a look at the way they dig through our leftovers proves. When there is no human garbage around, they go through a variety of berries, seeds and tender leaves. It would be safe to conclude that they are as indebted to pollinators as we are. The same could be said of raccoons.

One animal that symbolizes wildlife more than most is the bear. Let as take a quick look at what a bear eats through the year. When it comes out of hibernation, there isn't much plant life around, except for skunk cabbage, and skunk cabbage becomes its breakfast, lunch and dinner with some Jack-in-the-pulpit as a side dish. A bear must have a strong stomach because these plants have tiny salt crystals that would make most other animals, including us, very, very sick. I mentioned in previous posts that skunk cabbage and Jack-in-the-pulpit are both pollinated by small flies, which are the only pollinators flying around so early in the season.


Other foods become available later on. A bear will add some vegetables to a wide range of other things. When fall comes and berries ripen, it is the time to eat berries. In areas where blueberries are abundant, a bear is likely to spend long hours in blueberry fields, gorging itself. Do I need to repeat that most berries are pollinated by insects?


The many herbivores, deer, bison, skunk, rabbit, may eat mostly wind-pollinated grasses; but they also need other nutrients that can only be obtained from flowering plants, from clovers to asters.

Finally, if you are wondering, even meat-eaters benefit from pollinators, since much of their food, the herbivores, feed thanks to them.

Now, we have further reasons to be grateful to pollinators. It isn't just us, humans, who are in their debt, but practically all other animals of our fields and forests.


List of Articles 


© Beatriz Moisset. 2013

Friday, June 7, 2013

A Sea of Blue Flowers


Field of Camas on a private property in Oregon. © Beatriz Moisset
When Lewis and Clark parted in their expedition across the continent in 1804, many wonders awaited them. When crossing the Mississippi they left behind many familiar things and faced others totally unknown to European settlers.

Blooming flowers in June. © Beatriz Moisset
A marvelous, astonishing sight west of the Rocky Mountains was a valley that looked like a blue sea with gentle waves rippling across it. A dense carpet of blue flowers stretched for miles deceiving the eye to the point of looking like a vast lake.

The flowers, unknown to them, were the camas lilies (Camassia quamash) of the west. They look like small lilies, although they are more closely related to the agave than to other lilies. Their nutritious bulbs provided an important food to the local peoples. Despite the laborious preparation to eliminate toxic components the Nez Perce and other tribes resorted to this food through the winter pounding it into flour and baking it into bread-like cakes. Lewis and Clark were happy to supplement their dwindling supplies by purchasing camas lilies cakes from the Nez Perce.

Nature Conservancy Camassia Natural Area. © Beatriz Moisset
Most of the land of the camas lilies has been taken for cultivation of crops. We can only imagine the full glory of the blooming fields of two centuries ago when looking at the scattered small plots which represent their last remnants.

One of the familiar things the expedition members left behind was the honey bee or domesticated bee. There were no domestic bees west of the Mississippi in those days, only native ones. It would take another fifty years for some enterprising folks to carry beehives from the eastern United States to California. Only one hive survived the ordeal of such a trip. Many years passed before honey bees became established and significant beekeeping operations got underway.

Native bumble bee pollinating a camas. © Beatriz Moisset
 Camas lilies were not deprived of pollinators. They had no need for honey bees; abundant insects made their living from gathering their pollen and nectar. When the new crops and agricultural methods including monocultures took over much of the land, the honey bee became the workhorse of crop pollination.

Nature Conservancy Camassia Natural Area. © Beatriz Moisset
Where did the native pollinators go after the numbers of camas lilies shrank to insignificance? Probably we'll never know. We can guess that some found pollen and nectar elsewhere and survived, although their numbers, too, must have been reduced. We acknowledge the disappearance of a way of life and of the seas of blue flowers. The pollinators of centuries ago went about their job silently and unnoticed. Thus, we cannot appreciate their absence.

One Bite out of Three


© Beatriz Moisset. 2013