The red-pigmented white pitcher plant we purchased at the UC Davis Arboretum Plant Faire looks like a flamboyant coral reef. Like a hat askew, its ruffled “lid” hangs over the trumpet-shaped “pitcher.” The pitcher is actually a long, hollow tubular leaf.
 

But looks are deceiving. 

Sarracenia leucophylla is a carnivorous plant. It draws insects and then devours them. In the few weeks we’ve had it, it’s gobbled blow flies, snagged tachinid (parasitic) flies, and horrors, it ate two of our beloved honey bees. 

I do not think I like this plant.

Our bee friendly garden is no longer friendly.  There’s war in our garden of peace. We have a weapon of mass destruction right in our own backyard. And you think Dracula is scary on Halloween! 

Ernesto Sandoval, curator of the College of Biological Sciences Greenhouses at UC Davis, knows the plant well.

“Ah, yes, the horrors of indiscriminate insectivity!” he says. “The Sarracenia, especially S. leucophylla are really good indicators of the relative abundance of insects and unfortunately, even honey bees are convinced to visit the flower-mimicking leaves.” 

Sandoval says Sarracenia grow up and down the east coast of North America from Florida to Canada.

"The well-known Venus Fly Trap is native to North Carolina and just a little bit of South Carolina," he says. "They grow in places where nutrient poor sandy soils cannot sustain trees and instead give way to these insectivores as well as grasses and other low-nutrient-tolerant plants."

Meanwhile, I think I heard the plant burb.

Pull up a lawn chair and watch the honey bees.

They're buzzing around the Russian sage, gathering nectar. So focused are they that they don't seeem to mind the photographer sharing their space. So dedicated. So committed. So industrious.

Wait, a honey bee is wearing a new hat. Wait, another is playing peek-a-bee.

It's a great time to be in the garden.

We often hear of "cream of the crop," but the honey bee is  the "queen of the crops."

Honey bees are crucial to California’s $32 billion agriculture industry. They  pollinate more than 90 different fruit, nut and vegetables crops in the state, says Cooperative Extension apiculturist Eric Mussen of the UC Davis Department of Entomology faculty.
 

Can you name a fruit or nut crop that absolutely depends on honey-bee pollination? So much so that no commerical crop could be produced without cross pollination?  No, not tomatoes! Here are some: almond, avocado, apple (most varieties), apricot (some varieties), cherry, chestnut, lychee fruit, peach (some varieties), pear (some varieties) plum, pomegranate, prune, sunflower, tangelo and tangerine.

Vegetable seed crops dependent on honey-bee pollination? Among them: asparagus, broccoli, brussels sprouts, cabbage, carrot, cauliflower, celery, Chinese cabbage, collards, cucumber, kale, kohlrabi, leek, melon, mustard, onion, parsley, parsnip, pumpkin, radish rutabaga, squash, turnip and watermelon.

“One third of the American diet is pollinated by bees,” Mussen said.

California leads the nation in almond production, producing nearly all of the crop. “With around 660,000 acres currently in production, and branches bent nearly to the ground on many trees, the industry is due to set another record in nut production (1.46 billion pounds) and production income,” Mussen said. Each acre requires two hives for pollination.

UC Davis forensic entomologist Robert Kimsey is a genius, to be sure. Show him a fly and he'll tell you exactly what it is and what it's all about.

I shot this photo at the Harry H. Laidlaw Jr. Honey Bee Research Facility at UC Davis. The honey bee looked huge and the fly, tiny. There they were together. (Ah, if you let your imagination run wild, there's a children's book there! Once upon a time, a bee and a fly...)

The fly is a minute black scavenger fly (Scatopsidae). You see these flies around decomposing matter (in this case, dead bees). After all, worker bees live only four to six weeks in the summer. During that time, they encounter all sorts of killers, such as diseases, pesticides, parasites, stress, climate change, intruders, and the mysterious colony collapse disorder).

Kimsey, an adjunct professor in the UC Davis Department of Entomology, is known for not only his expertise on flies and his courtroom testimony, but his award-winning teaching.  I'm not sure which is the most popular: the CSI television series or Kimsey's classes. (My bet: his classes!)

Wife Lynn Kimsey, a  fellow entomologist, chairs the UC Davis Department of Entomology and directs the Bohart Museum of Entomology.

When I visited a local farmers' market in late September, a UC Davis animal science major mentioned how much she enjoyed his class. "Kimsey, that's it!" she said. "Dr. Kimsey. He's really good."

He is, and he's a genius, too!