A sneak peak at a couple of Solano County Fair entries...think insects!

The COVID-19 pandemic derailed fairs and festivals, but now they're back on track.

Take the 73rd annual Solano County Fair, themed "Bales of Fun." Located at 900 Fairgrounds Drive, Vallejo, it opens June Thursday through Sunday, June 16-19, and gate admission is free.  Headed by president Lee Williams of Rio Vista, the board of directors includes Valerie Williams of Vacaville, better known as "Mrs. Solano County 4-H." In fact, Valerie has served tirelessly for some 25 years as the Solano County 4-H program representative. The 4-H program is part of the University of California's Agriculture and Natural Resources or UC ANR.

Our favorite part of the fair? The exhibits at McCormack Hall, particularly those that are insect-themed.

One entry, by talented photographer Matthew Agbayani, 17, of the Vaca Valley 4-H Club, Vacaville, shows a syrphid fly and a honey bee sharing a sunflower. It takes a special kind of patience to be able to capture two species on the same flower. 

Many folks mistake syrphid flies, aka hover flies or hover flies, for honey bees. They're both pollinators.

Three of the easiest ways to differentiate a fly from a bee:

• A fly has one set of wings. A bee has two sets.
• A fly has short, stubby antennae. A honey bee doesn't.
• A fly has no corbicula or pollen basket. A honey bee (worker bee) does.

Among the other insect-themed displays: Rio Vista resident Richard Laswell's exquisite watercolor depicting three dragonflies that he entered in the amateur art division; and Vallejo resident Ashley Workman's  colorful blue butterfly (oils and acrylics) that she entered in open art division.  

Art by Iris Mayhew of American Canyon also caught our eye. She drew inspiration from a safari in Kenya.  "I love animals," she said. That includes monarchs and Gulf Fritillaries. She'll be depicting them next. 

Scientists and honey bee enthusiasts have been debating the origin of the Western honey bee (Apis mellifera) for centuries.

We know that European colonists introduced honey bees (Apis mellifera) into the Jamestown colony (now Virginia) in 1622.

But where did the Western honey bee originate? Scientists at York University, a public research university in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, recently discovered that it originated in Asia. Genetics told them so.

The abstract of the paper, "Thrice Out of Asia and the Adaptive Radiation of the Western Honey Bee," published in Science:

"The origin of the western honey bee Apis mellifera has been intensely debated. Addressing this knowledge gap is essential for understanding the evolution and genetics of one of the world's most important pollinators. By analyzing 251 genomes from 18 native subspecies, we found support for an Asian origin of honey bees with at least three expansions leading to African and European lineages. The adaptive radiation of honey bees involved selection on a few genomic 'hotspots.' We found 145 genes with independent signatures of selection across all bee lineages, and these genes were highly associated with worker traits. Our results indicate that a core set of genes associated with worker and colony traits facilitated the adaptive radiation of honey bees across their vast distribution."

In their introduction, the 12-member research team explained: "The genus Apis is composed of 12 extant species that form three distinct groups: giant honey bees, dwarf honey bees, and cavity-nesting honey bees. All but one of the extant Apis species are endemic to Asia. The exception, Apis mellifera, is native to Europe, Africa, and Western Asia. Given the wide geographic spread of the species, A. mellifera has diversified into several subspecies, of which there are approximately 10 subspecies in Africa, 9 in Asia, and potentially as many as 13 subspecies in Europe. Each subspecies can be genetically and morphologically classified into at least five distinct evolutionary lineages: the M lineage of Eurasia, the C lineage of Europe, the O and Y lineages of Western Asia, and the A lineage of Africa. Although it is reasonably accepted that the genus emerged in Asia, the ancestral origin and adaptive radiation of contemporary A. mellifera lineages and subspecies remain unresolved."

York University doctoral student Kathleen Dogantzis of the Faculty of Science led the research team.  "Our research suggests that a core-set of genes allowed the honey bee to adapt to a diverse set of environmental conditions across its native range by regulating worker and colony behaviour," Dogantzis says in a Phys.Org article.

Why is it important to know the origin? To understand its evolution, its genetics and its adaptation and how this can relate to the current population of bees and to modern-day beekeeping.

Or, as they wrote in their scientific paper: "Resolving the ancestral origin and evolutionary expansion of A. mellifera will enhance our ability to identify derived and ancestral genetic mutations. This is especially relevant for tracing the evolution of derived phenotypes and for discerning how locally adapted subspecies may contribute to the fitness and diversity of managed colonies."

"In conclusion," they wrote, "we have presented compelling evidence that A. mellifera emerged in Asia with the remainder of extant honey bees but then expanded into its current distribution via Western Asia. This expansion event is marked by at least three independent colonization routes that gave rise to seven genetically distinct lineages. Modern populations of A. mellifera maintain high genetic diversity, which has allowed the species to adapt to diverse environments through repeated selection among a common set of genes. These genes are often related to worker phenotypes, supporting that the worker caste is key to the adaptative radiation of the species."

Jamestown Colony. The first honey bees to arrive in what is now the United States were what beekeepers call the "dark bee" subspecies of Northern Europe, Apis mellifera mellifera. Today the Italian bee, Apis mellifera ligustica is the most common bee the United States. 

The Italian bee didn't arrive in America until 1859. "The American beekeeping public was enamored with the newly available yellow and gentle bees," bee breeder-geneticist and co-author Susan Cobey of Washington State University (formerly of UC Davis) wrote in a chapter of the book, Honey Bee Colony Health: Challenges and Sustainable Solutions. "As a result, Italian-type bees form the basis for most present-day commercial beekeeping stocks in the U.S. Following the arrival and success of honey bees from Italy, U.S. beekeepers developed an interest to try other honey bee subspecies." Cobey studied with Harry H. Laidlaw Jr. (1907-2003) of UC Davis, the "father of honey bee genetics" and for whom the university's bee biology facility is named.

And speaking of the introduction of honey bees into the United States, it took 231 for years for honey bees to arrive in California. Beekeeper Christopher A. Shelton introduced honey bees to the Golden State in 1853, establishing an apiary just north of San Jose. (Check out the bee plaque at the San Jose International Airport.) 

Now we know that our beloved Western honey bee originated in Asia. 

Hey, wait, take me with you!

No, leave me alone! Let me go!

Have you ever seen insects struggling to free themselves from the reproductive chamber of a milkweed blossom? 

Instead of producing loose pollen grains, milkweeds produce pollinia, a waxy, sticky packet of golden pollen grains originating from a single anther.  When bees and other insects forage for nectar in the "nectar troughs," where the pollinia are, they emerge with wishbone-shaped pollinia on their feet or other body parts. That is, if they emerge at all. Sometimes they die there; the reproductive chamber becomes a floral death trap. 

What may seem like nature's appalling act of cruelty is actually a unique case of floral pollination, the transfer of pollina from one blossom to another. 

"Milkweed flowers bloom in umbels which are clusters of individual flowers on stems that emerge from a common point," explains Eric Eldredge in an article published by the U.S. Department of Agriculture's Natural Resources Conservation Service. "Flowers of different species of milkweed differ in size, color, and fragrance, but all produce their pollen in waxy sacs called pollinia.  The pollinia are located in two anther pouches adjacent to vertical stigmatic slits of the flowers. Pairs of adjacent pollinia are connected to each other by translator arms from a clamp located in the middle, called the corpusculum (Bookman, 1981). The complete structure is called a pollinarium."

"Insects that visit a flower to drink nectar struggle to grasp the slippery surfaces and may accidentally slip their leg, tarsus, mouthpart, or other appendage into the opening at the bottom of the stigmatic slit. This slit is formed by guide rails, which are lined with bristles that prevent the insect moving its appendage any direction but up. The top of the slit leads into the opening of the corpusculum, which has hard, sharp inside edges that taper together at the top. The corpusculum clamps firmly to the insect by pinching onto the insect's appendage. In its struggles to escape, if the insect is large enough, it can withdraw the paired pollinia from the anther pouches and fly away."

We've seen dead honey bees trapped in the milkweed blossoms while other bees forage around their carcasses. And then we've seen the frantic struggles (below). Fortunately this bee in the first three photos escaped. Another bee did not.

 

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.