Hey, the sun's up! It's time to rise and shine! Maybe I'll shine before I rise...or maybe I'll...

Anyway, I just woke up, and I'm starting to stir. I'm ready to conquer the day. I shall

1. Sip nectar
2. Seek girlfriend
3. Guard the flower patch by dive-bombing and chasing off all critters.
4. Repeat. 

The scenario: a male longhorned bee, Melissodes agilis, has just spent the night sleeping--and quite cozily at that--on a Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola. 

He is Boy Bee With the Green Mesmerizing Eyes.

Boy Bee With the Green Mesmerizing Eyes does not know--nor would he care if he could--that today is the beginning of National Pollinator Week, an international annual event celebrating pollinator health.

According to the Pollinator Partnership, "pollination is a vital stage in the life cycle of all flowering plants. When pollen is moved within a flower or carried from one flower to another of the same species it leads to fertilization. This transfer of pollen is necessary for healthy and productive native and agricultural ecosystems." It's crucial to our ecosystem.

As the Pollinator Partnership says on its website:

• "About 75 percent of all flowering plant species need the help of animals to move their heavy pollen grains from plant to plant for fertilization."
• "About 1,000 of all pollinators are vertebrates such as birds, bats, and small mammals."
• "Most pollinators (about 200,000 species) are beneficial insects such as flies, beetles, wasps, ants, butterflies, moths, and bees."

But back to Boy Bee With the Mesmerizing Green Eyes. 

Noted bee expert, the late Robbin Thorp, a UC Davis distinguished emeritus professor of entomology and co-author of California Bees and Blooms: A Guide for Gardeners and Naturalists (Heyday), used to talk about these little guys bullying all the floral tenants--from honey bees to syrphid flies to butterflies to lady beetles--and more. 

Boy, do they move fast. A good time to photograph them is when they're sleeping or just waking up. Otherwise, try to capture images of them at a shutter speed of about 1/5000 of a second. 

Happy Beginning of National Pollinator Week! 

If you've ever tried to photograph male long-horned bees, Melissodes agilis, you know how fast they can fly and how quick they can dart.

They fly even faster when they're chasing the females of their species.

It was the last day of June. I was watching the female long-horned bees foraging on the Mexican sunflowers, Tithonia rotundifola, in our garden, and the territorial males targeting all "unwelcomed" visitors (honey bees, carpenter bees, and syrphid flies) and chasing prospective mates.

The University of California-affiliated authors of the book, California Bees and Blooms: A Buide For Gardeners and Naturalists, say it well: They "fly wildly around gardens looking for mates and stop occasionally to take a sip of nectar from flowers."

Yes, they do fly wildly--and you need a fast shutter speed to photograph them.

I set the shutter-speed of my camera, a Nikon D500 with a 200mm macro lens, at 1/8000 of a second. Other settings:  f-stop 5, and ISO, 800.

Here they come! There they go. 

Where DID they go? 

At 1/8000 of a second, you can stop the action. You can stop time. You cannot, however, stop a determined suitor from chasing a mate. They don't slow down. 

So, here you are, a honey bee nectaring on a Mexican sunflower, Tithonia rotundifola.

All's right with the world, at least in your world. You're sipping nectar to take home to your colony and suddenly...a buzz.

A male long-horned bee, probably Melissodes agilis, is trying to dislodge you from your flower. 

You hold your ground (your flower) but you let him know that his presence is unwanted. You lift a foreleg in your defense to block him.  

The long-horned bee flies off, and you continue to nectar. All's right with the world. (Until your next encounter with a fast-moving, highly territorial male long-horned bee bent on dislodging you from your flower.)

The late Robbin Thorp (1933-2019), distinguished emeritus professor of entomology at UC Davis, used to say that these male long-horned bees target any critter residing on "their" flowers. It could be a honey bee, a bumble bee, a carpenter bee, a syrphid fly, a butterfly or a beetle. Or something else. They want to save the flowers for their own species and then mate with them, he said.

Just a day in the life of a non-native honey bee, Apis mellifera, and a native long-horned bee, Melissodes agilis. 

Okay, boys, listen up!

You're the Lucky Seven!

Count yourselves. There are seven of you--seven male Melissodes agilis bees--sleeping on a single spent Mexican sunflower blossom (Tithonia rotundifola).

Do you know how lucky you are?

No, not that you escaped the hungry flameskimmer dragonfly patrolling the yard on July 7.  Or the cunning spider building its web.

You're the Lucky Seven!

Forget the Seven Deadly Sins, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Seven Wonders of the World, Seven Seas, Seven Continents and Seven Days of the Week.  Forget about Willie Nelson singing "Seven Spanish Angels." Forget about the time that George Constanza suggested a baby be named "Seven" in Season 7 of Seinfeld. See? Seven. Season 7. Seinfeld.

Yes, fellas, you "bee" the Lucky 7. 

Your cluster grew to seven last night as you slumbered away on Cloud Nine, no predators in sight.

Seventh Heaven!