- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
Noted bee scientist Jamie Ellis, a University of Florida professor, will speak on "Understanding the Risks that Pesticides Pose to Honey Bees" at a UC Davis seminar at 4:10 p.m., Monday, April 1. This is a zoom seminar.
Here are the particulars!
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
Today's Honorary Bee Image Award goes to...drum roll...an image of a humble hoverfly appearing on the National Geographic Facebook page.
The caption reads "A bee sits on a marigold flower in Coronado National Forest, Arizona, USA."
Bee? Umm, no!
Marigold? Umm, no!
Sits? A bee does what?
Hey, hoverfly, you're an honorary bee!
Indeed, why can't the hoverfly, aka syrphid fly or flower fly, gain a little stature?
As of 3 p.m. today, this mistaken-identity image has drawn 2,400 views, 66 comments and 136 shares from National Geographic's 50 million FB followers.
It's a beautiful insect image by freelance photographer David Littschwacher. Who wrote the caption? Not an entomologist. Ironically, however, numerous National Geographic followers are unaware of the faux paux. A sprinkling of the comments:
- "Beautiful picture"
- "Very nice photo; spring brings lots of flowers"
- "A beautiful sight!"
- "Our nature...priceless"
- "Nature's delicate balance beautifully displayed in Coronado National Forest, Arizona, USA."
- "You might want to check your identification on both plant and insect"
- "Not a bee but a hoverfly"
- "That bee is a species of hoverfly, absolutely surprised at you, of all organizations"
- "Leave it to NatGeo…"
- "You would think Nat Geo could identify a bee, instead of a fly! Lesson for people that trust anything on social media, especially pictures"
- "Not on a marigold, either"
- "Looks more like a fly...National Geographic--do your research!"
With so much misinformation and disinformation spreading globally, even the humble hoverfly gets into the act!
Probably one of the most embarrassing mistakes, though, is that dratted fly on the cover of Bees of the World, authored by noted hymenopterists Christopher O'Toole and Anthony Raw.
Syrphid flies (order Diptera) are easily distinguished from honey bees (order Hymenoptera). Among the key differences: (1) syrphids have only one pair of wings, while honey bees have two (2) syrphids have short, stubby antennae, while honey bees have long, bent antennae called genticulate antennae and (3) syrphids have large, wrap-around eyes and honey bees do not.
And if you watch them in action, a hoverfly will hover over a flower before touching down (thus the name). A honey bee is more directional in her flight pattern as she buzzes in to forage on a flower.
Some hoverflies mimic the coloration of bees and wasps, gaining a little protection from predators. Unlike bees, however, hoverflies don't sting.
But cheers, both are pollinators!
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
Take stock of your flowers and pollinators; today is the first day of spring.
If Virginia stock, Malcolmia maritima, is blooming in your garden now, you'll likely be seeing honey bees, syrphid flies and other pollinators.
M. maritima, native to Greece and Albania, is a member of the family Brassicaceae, which includes mustards, broccoli, cabbages and cauliflower. It's self-sown. In its native habitat, it grows well in maritime sandy habitats, thus the "maritima" in its name.
The four-petaled flowers, quite fragrant, can range in color from lavender, white and pink to violet and purple.
In our garden in Vacaville, Virginia stock blooms profusely from spring to late fall, and can thrive in the winter.
Cheers to the first day of spring!
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
If you've lately visited the Ruth Risdon Storer Garden, part of the 100-acre UC Davis Arboretum and Public Garden, you've seen them.
Honey bees nectaring on the Kniphofia "Christmas Cheer" poker plant.
Its stems, stretching 5 to 6 feet tall, are topped with brilliant spikes of reddish-orange tubular flowers. They are Santa Claus-red, honey yellow, and pumpkin orange, all wrapped in one.
The genus, Kniphofia, honors Johann Hieronymus Kniphof (1704 -1763), a German physician and botanist. Botanist Conrad Moench (1745–1805) bestowed the name.
Everywhere the plant goes, it spreads cheer.
Honey bees, buzzing out of their their hives when the temperature outside hits 55 degrees, spread their own kind of cheer, bringing back life-nourishing nectar to their sisters and queen bee in the dead of winter.
Cheers.
- Author: Kathy Keatley Garvey
It's bee-ginning to look a lot like Christmas...
All hail our littlest agricultural worker.
European colonists brought the honey bee (Apis mellifera) to what is now the United States in 1622. Specifically, the bees arrived at the Jamestown colony (Virginia). Native Americans nicknamed the honey bee "the white man's fly."
California would have to wait until 1853 for honey bees to arrive. That's when Texas beekeeper Christopher Shelton, brought his colonies to the San Jose area. A plaque outside the international terminal of the San Jose airport documents their arrival.
The plaque, "First Honeybees in California," reads:
"Here, on the 1939-acre Rancho Potrero de Santa Clara, Christopher A. Shelton in early March 1853 introduced the honey bee to California. In Aspinwall, Panama, Shelton purchased 12 bee hives from a New Yorker and transported them by rail, “bongo,” pack mule and steamship to San Francisco. Only enough bees survived to fill one hive, but these quickly propagated, laying the foundation for California's modern beekeeping industry. California registered Landmark No. 945 plaque placed by the State Department of Parks and Recreation in Cooperation with E. Clampus Vitus, Mountain Charlie Chapter No. 1850, and in honor of San Jose City Historian Clyde Arbuckle, March 6, 1982."
According to atlasobscura.com, "In 1853, Texan Christopher A. Shelton purchased 12 hives of bees from an unknown beekeeper in what is now Colon, Panama. The bees, already transported to Panama from New York, were then sent up to San Francisco and Alviso, the nearest port to San Jose, by steamer. They then continued their journey via train and mule to the 1939-acre Rancho Potrero de Santa Clara where Shelton settled."
"Only enough bees to form one hive survived," the Atlas Obscura post related. "These German black bees (Apis mellifera mellifera) endured the tedious trek and were propagated throughout California and soon the whole of the West Coast. Shelton was not so fortunate and died alongside other prominent South Bay Residents of the time on the infamous Jenny Lind steamship explosion just a month after the receipt of his bees. His three hives—it didn't take long for his original stock to multiply—were sold at auction for $110 each, 22 times the price of a beehive on the East Coast."
Ever seen the inside of a hive? That's where the magic begins. You'll see "The Girls": the queen, nurse maids, nannies, royal attendants, builders, architects, dancers, honey tenders, pollen packers, propolis or "glue" specialists, air conditioning and heating technicians, guards, and undertakers.
And in spring, summer and early fall, you'll see "The Boys," the drones. They have one responsibility: reproduction. The drone mates in mid-air with a virgin queen, and then he dies--"and with a smile on his face," according to the UC Cooperative Extension apiculturist Eric Mussen (1944-2022).
As we celebrate Merry Christmas and the New Year, the bees could use some cele-bee-tion, too.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from the Bug Squad.