Brainy bees

 

Brainy bees

The 'Waggle Dance' is a communication behavior observed in honeybees, where a dancing bee moves in a straight line and then in a semicircle to convey information about the distance and direction of a food source to other colony members.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Image source

Robin at TheCrankyCrow was wondering how people discovered that bees could count. It has long been known that honey bees return to their hive and ‘dance’ to tell the other bees where to go, and how far, to find nectar and pollen. 

Bees have minute brains, yet display behaviour usually associated with larger, more complex nervous systems. Experimenters in the 1990s trained honey bees to discriminate between pictures showing different numbers of shapes. They learned that choosing an image with the required number of shapes earned them a sweet reward. If they chose a picture with ‘fewer shapes’ they were given a bitter treat as a disincentive. 

Once they were indicating a high degree of accuracy, of about 80%, they were tested without rewards to discover if they really recognised number difference. When the shapes were changed, or rearranged, the bees continued to choose the correct images, thus showing that they were responding to number, not pattern.

Bees also showed that they noticed and counted landmarks in their flight path. If landmarks were removed or added, the bees adjusted their flight to find the food.

Further research demonstrated that bees can count to at least five, comparable to many vertebrates, though you’ll never hear them chanting their numbers. They can be taught simple arithmetic and understand that ‘zero’ is a quantity smaller than one.

In attempting to understand the mathematical brains of bees, I have succeeded in confusing myself somewhat.

A bumblebee choosing between two patterns containing different numbers of yellow circles.

 Credit Lars Chittka

Image source

 

Forget-me-not (Myosotis) 

These unassuming little flowers are among my garden favourites. The dainty flowers return every spring, becoming more abundant each year.

 Blooming from April to the end of October, they are usually dressed in shades of blue, but sometimes appear in pink or white

They are a symbol of true love and remembrance. Our vets always send a small packet of forget-me-nots with a condolence note when one of our pets crosses the Rainbow Bridge.

One legend about forget-me-nots tells of a pair of sweethearts who were walking by the River Danube, when they spotted beautiful blue flowers growing on a small island in the river. The young man leapt into the water and battled through the strong current, managing to reach the island and pick some of the flowers. On his return journey, the waters proved too strong for him, and as he was being swept away, he threw the posy to his love, crying ‘Forget me not’. She wore forget-me-nots in her hair until the day she died.

The yellow centres indicate that the flowers are full of nectar. When the flower has been pollinated, the centres turn white. This indicates to bees and other pollinators, that the flowers are no longer offering nectar, the food they are seeking. The cupboard is bare, and they should look elsewhere.

Did you know that bees can count, and recognise images of human faces?

 

Golden syrup

 

Golden syrup

F fromTigger’s Wee-Blog posted her grandmother’s recipe for mouthwatering ginger biscuits. It was the mention of one of the ingredients, golden syrup, that triggered this post.

I read recently that Tate and Lyle were changing the 140-year-old trademark on their classic green and gold tins of golden syrup because some customers had complained that the current one was grim. The illustration shows a cloud of bees buzzing around a dead lion. Underneath are the words, ‘Out of the strong came forth sweetness’. The logo and words are repeated on the red and gold black treacle tin. (Tooth-achingly sweet golden syrup is refined from stronger, slightly bitter black treacle, which is said to be similar to molasses.) It holds the Guinness World Record for the oldest unchanged logo. This year, 2024, it was replaced by a stylised lion’s head and a single bee.

Tate and Lyle’s Golden Syrup became Lyle’s Golden Syrup after the sugar business was sold to American Sugar Refining in 2010. Tate and Lyle continues to trade other commodities.

I remember studying the syrup tin when I was a child, but it never occurred to me that I was seeing something offensive, and even now I see nothing wrong with it. It was based on the story of Samson and the lion in chapter 14 of the Book of Judges. Briefly, Samson killed a lion and later discovered that bees had used the carcase as a hive and produced honey. He then posed a riddle to the Philistines, one of whose daughters he wanted to marry, ‘Out of the eater came forth meat, and out of the strong came forth sweetness.’

I must remember to keep the empty tin, as a reminder of simpler, less antagonistic times . . . and my childhood.

 My guilty pleasure, but one I rarely indulge, is syrup on hot, buttered toast. 😔 

I like ginger nuts, too.

Telling the bees

 

Telling the bees

                     

                         From ‘The Bee-Boy’s Song’ by Rudyard Kipling

Bees! Bees! Hark to your bees!

"Hide from your neighbours as much as you please,

But all that has happened, to us you must tell,

Or else we will give you no honey to sell!"

In Celtic folklore honey bees were regarded as messengers between the present life and the life hereafter, imbued with knowledge from the spirit world. Folk tales told of bees humming loudly at midnight on Christmas Day to celebrate the birth of the Christ child.

For centuries, beekeepers have honoured the tradition of bees as messengers, treating the bees as members of an extended family. Bees are so important to our lives that they must be treated with respect. In the British Isles tradition holds that the bees must be informed of important events in the beekeeper’s life. If this is not observed there could be dire consequences – the bees might desert the hive, or die. In short, no more honey would be forthcoming.

Marriages, births and deaths are three of the most important events in a lifetime. The beekeeper should address the bees in a calm voice so as not to upset them. If he, or she, should fail to tell the bees of a death in the family and they are not ‘put into mourning’, sometimes with a black cloth tied over or round the hive, the bees might sicken and die.

When Queen Elizabeth II died in 2022, the Royal Beekeeper, John Chapple, tied black bows on the hives before telling the thousands of bees at Buckingham Palace and Clarence House that their mistress had died. He also told them that King Charles III was their new master.

If the bees have not been informed of a death, the catastrophe following would affect the family and also anyone unrelated who bought the bees. A report from Norfolk tells how a family bought a hive of bees at auction. The previous owner had died but the bees had not been told. The bees were not in good health and not expected to survive but as soon as the new beekeeper understood and tied a piece of black material to the hive the bees recovered. Everyone agreed that it was because the bees had been ‘put into mourning.’

 Bees are also told about happier events. In the 1950s, a report in the Dundee Courier described the custom of inviting bees to weddings. The hive could be decorated and a piece of wedding cake left by it. Meanwhile, in Westphalia, Germany, newly-wed couples going to their new home, should first introduce themselves to the bees or run the risk of a less than satisfactory marriage.

The bee’s knees

 

The bee’s knees

This expression has been in use since the 1920s, along with similar phrases, like the cat’s whiskers or the gnat’s elbow. All such idioms are used to describe something superlative.

I wondered, ‘Do bees actually have knees?’  In fact, they do. Not only that, they have hairy knees, the hairs being an intrinsic part of collecting pollen. The knees do not form the pollen baskets but are the joints between them. Only the females collect pollen, which is pressed into pollen baskets. Male bees don’t collect pollen; they visit flowers solely to drink the nectar for immediate energy.

The pyracantha bushes are in full flower now and a rich source of pollen. There is a gentle humming of many bees, a relaxing backdrop to a sunny day. The honey bees are very industrious, collecting pollen and drinking nectar.  

They regurgitate nectar to cover the pollen and form pellets which they take back to their hives. The pollen pellets are then formed into bee bread, which is a mixture of pollen, nectar, honey and bee saliva. It is the main food source for adult honey bees and their young, and is stored in cells to feed developing worker and drone larvae.

Newly-emerged worker bees have the job of making beeswax for the colony. Special cells on the bee’s abdomen produce small scales of wax. Bees constantly groom themselves and each other, taking the wax and chewing it with honey and pollen to create the hexagonal wax cells of the honeycomb.

Honey is made from nectar mixed with proteins produced in the bee’s mouth. The resultant mixture is stored in the honeycomb until the water content has been reduced. 

Honey bees are the major producers of honey. Bumble bees make small amounts of honey, but do not live in huge colonies like honey bees, so their honey production could never become a commercial enterprise.

Humans have been benefitting from bee products for about 9,000 years. Ancient pottery artefacts from Europe, the Near East and North Africa have carried traces of beeswax, which suggests that the first farmers kept bees.

Bees originated in Asia around 300,000 years ago and spread rapidly across Europe and Africa. Today, honey bee colonies are under threat across the world. Colony collapse disorder (CCD) was first reported in the USA in 2006. When this happens, the majority of worker bees in a hive disappear and the Queen and remaining young die because they are not being serviced by the huge army of workers that they need to survive.

The causes of CCD are not fully understood and are still being researched. However, it is believed that pesticides, parasites, disease and loss of habitat are major contributory factors.

There are several suggestions that bee-keepers can try in their bid to prevent CCD. One proposal is to replace the old honeycomb with a new one every two or three years to avoid a concentration of harmful chemicals. Stress is not good for bees so it is helpful to make sure there is good ventilation in the hive and also that there is access to plentiful appropriate food.

A parasite that only breeds in honey bee hives and contributes to CCD is the Varroa mite, an external microscopic mite that attaches to the bee and feeds on it, weakening it. It also transmits diseases like deformed wing virus (DWV) to bee larvae. It is the most serious pest for honey bees across the world.

Bees pollinate a huge variety of crops but the bee population is declining and it is imperative to protect it. Our landscapes and our lives would be unimaginable without the intervention of these little insects.

A to Z challenge 2023 – P is for . . .

 

A to Z challenge 2023 – P is for . . .

My theme for this challenge is Nature in all much of her wonderful diversity. My posts will reflect the fact that I am resident in the south of England.

All photographs in this post are the property of the writer.

Pollinators

Marmalade hoverfly on cornflower

The first beasties that come to mind as pollinators are bees and butterflies, but birds, moths, flies, beetles and wasps all play their part. Even small mammals like mice can contribute to the greater good.

Honey bee on pyracantha

Robins, blackbirds, blue tits and starlings are among the birds that are classed as pollinators. Even humans can be responsible for accidentally transferring pollen from one place to another. (Some do it deliberately, with a fine paintbrush. I had a sudden vision then of someone wielding a house-painter’s brush, maybe even a roller!)

Bumble bee in nasturtium

Some of the pollinators have interesting habits. For example, the bumblebees, those big furry insects that tempt one to stroke them, vibrate their bodies to dislodge pollen. The bees then comb the pollen off their bodies into little baskets on their legs. This is called buzz pollination and while most of the pollen is taken back to the nest to feed their young, some will be transferred to the next flowers the bees visit.

Bumble bee with pollen grains

Some species of bumblebees can fly at around 15 kilometres an hour – that’s 9.3 miles per hour. The average walking speed of a reasonably fit human is 3 to 4 miles per hour!

Marmalade hoverfly going about its business

Marmalade hoverflies (Episyrphus balteatus) are prodigious pollinators and extremely migratory, able to travel hundreds of miles a day. Billions of them fly in and out of southern Britain every year, carrying copious amounts of pollen. They visit almost three quarters of global food crops and over 70% of wildflowers. They also feed on aphids, so do double service.

Blackbird in honeysuckle

Not all bees live in communities, and the pantaloon bee (Dasypoda hirtipes) is one I haven’t seen, but I love the name. She is one of nearly 250 species of solitary bees and sports a host of long orange hairs on her hind legs, which convey the pollen back to the nest.

Bumble bee  with rapidly filling basket of pollen

Wasps (Vespula vulgaris) have their purpose, too, as pollinators. They have high energy requirements, so search out flower nectar. In the process, pollen sticks to their bodies, so even though they are not as hairy as bees, they are still important pollinators. Remember that, the next time you attempt to swat one!

Cabbage white feeding. Enlarge photograph to see the tongue

Gatekeeper butterfly feeding on scabious

Essex skipper on thistle

Moths and butterflies also collect pollen on their bodies as they search for nectar.

Juvenile starling in honeysuckle

Beetles have been important pollinators for millions of years. Some have adapted to a pollen-rich diet, while others, like the ladybirds, enjoy pollen as a pleasant addition to their usual diet of aphids. 

Dusty-looking six spot ladybird on pansy

Around 1000 species of the UK’s beetles, about a quarter of the total, are pollinators. Some are dedicated pollinators while others pollinate incidentally, moving pollen as they travel around.

 

 

 

Wandering in the garden, camera in hand ...

Our back garden is not large but there are distinct differences between the two sides. The left-hand side as I look out of our patio door enjoys sun for much of the day and we can be confident that daffodils and tulips and sun-loving plants will thrive and flower there. We grow herbs on that side as well - three different varieties of mint are rampant! The right-hand side gets less sun and we refer to it as our 'woodland' area which is rather too grand a name for it but it is where hellebores, lily-of-the-valley and aquilegia grow happily. Cutting down two large oak trees has meant that a lot more light is allowed in and this may alter its character. Wandering along this side the other day I noticed that the Mexican Orange Blossom (Choisya ternata) was flowering for a second time. It has done this before but not as profusely. The insects are enjoying the sweetly-scented flowers.

I watched a Greenbottle (Lucilia caesar) basking in the sun on a hydrangea leaf and another one on a blossom perhaps sipping nectar. Bees and hover-flies were also much in evidence.

As I looked more closely I saw spiders in a rather messy web. I couldn't tell which were predators and which were prey - it's unlikely they would be working together.

The crab-apples are heavy with fruit. Our weeping crab-apple, Malus x scheideckeri 'Red Jade' has red fruits and Malus x zumi 'Golden Hornet' has yellow fruits (You'd never have guessed either of those from the names, now would you?)

Malus x scheideckeri 'Red Jade'

Malus x zumi 'Golden Hornet'. This flowers slightly later than 'Red Jade' and the fruits are a little larger. They will turn golden-yellow in the next few weeks.

The first time I made crab-apple jelly I separated the fruits from the two trees but the resulting jellies were the same rich translucent red even though books and articles claim they will look different. The only trouble is that all those hundreds of tiny apples produce a very small amount of jelly - ah, but it is delicious!

I was about to go indoors when I noticed movement in the grass. Lo and behold - a tiny frog! We used to have hundreds of froglets every year - they would leap away from advancing feet, paws, lawnmowers. Crows would come and feast on the larger frogs in the pond - and still do - but the frog population has dropped markedly. I'm sure it's the fault of the sticklebacks I introduced three or four years ago. Their breeding programme is remarkably successful and I think they eat the frogspawn. Next Spring I shall try netting off part of the pond to preserve the spawn and see if froggy numbers increase. We're always told that frogs and fish cannot live in the same pond but before the sticklebacks joined the throng they lived harmoniously together.

Common frog (Rana temporaria) He was moving very quickly, desperate for cover - hardly surprising when so many frogs become snacks for sharp-eyed birds. Poor frog - he has no defences other than an ear-piercing shriek and I've never yet seen a bird startle at that and release its capture!

A poisonous beauty

I took these photographs to capture the butterfly in my ongoing attempt to add to my ability to identify lepidoptera - currently I am confident of correctly naming two! At the same time I thought I would increase my botanical knowledge. So, instead of giving you 'a plant with flowers like yellow daisies' I would like to introduce you to Senecio jacobaea, otherwise known as Common ragwort. It was believed mistakenly that an infusion made from the plant would cure staggers, a disease affecting the brain and spinal cord of horses. Because of its supposed power it was named for Saint James, the patron saint of horses. It was also said to start flowering on 25th July, Saint James' Day.

In fact, its leaves contain an alkaloid poison. The poison also stays in plants that have been dried with hay. In this state it can be eaten by farm stock and will destroy their livers over a period of months.

'Ragwort' refers to the ragged leaves. The Scots call this plant 'stinking Billy' because it smells unpleasant when bruised. 'Billy' was William, Duke of Cumberland, who was victorious at the Battle of Culloden in 1746 and vicious in his reprisals against the Jacobites. Sweet Williams (Dianthus barbatus) are also known as 'stinking Billy'.

The butterfly is a Wall Brown (Lasiommata megera) I think but feel free to correct me if you know better. There is also a bee on the ragwort.

Flower Crampons for Busy Bees

Many plants rely on insects for pollination. The insect that probably comes to mind most readily as a pollinator is the bee.

Some flowers have petals covered in tiny cells like pyramids and scientists have discovered that the purpose of these conical structures is to help bees get a good foothold. In order to discover this the researchers created very convincing artificial flowers from epoxy resin, making some with cones and some without. A sugar solution was placed inside and bumble bees were set free in the laboratory to ascertain their preference.

When the flowers were horizontal the bees showed no particular inclination, treating coned and coneless flowers impartially. However, when the flowers were angled the bees preferred the rough surfaces to the smooth and more so as the angles grew steeper. High-speed film showed that on the smooth petals the bees’ feet were unable to gain a good purchase and they were having to beat their wings fast to maintain their position, using a great deal of energy in the process.

In a separate study the pyramidal cells were found to act like solar panels, warming the petals and the nectar which benefitted the bees, allowing them to use their energy for their prime purpose of collecting nectar and pollen.

In the following photographs there are different species of bees. Bee identification is not one of my skills so I am unsure of naming them correctly!

White-tailed bumble bee - Bombus lucorum - on Chives


Bombus lucorum again

Honey bee - Apis mellifera - on flowers of Physocarpus Opulifolius (Common Ninebark) 'Dart's Gold'
Bumble bee - Bombus terrestris? - on Common Ninebark flowers

Buff-tailed Bumble bee - Bombus terrestris - on Herb-Robert

Talking to myself again

Teaching has not been the only occasion of my soliloquies. I have spent large chunks of time with small and larger children, my own and my own's own. A constant barrage of 'Why?' from earliest toddledom is followed by years of 'How do you spell . . . ?' and 'What does ?? mean?' and Where's . . . ?' interspersed with my homilies on subjects ranging from the inadvisability of wearing four-inch heels and bare legs in the middle of a cold snap to the wisdom or otherwise of sailing in a Force 9 gale.

There have always been animals around as well, mingling with children of various ages and sizes so of course they must be included in conversations and greeted on returning from outings. I reassure the birds as I set out their food and ask the fish and frogs if all is well in their watery world. The plants and trees are given encouragement and I marvel at the bees and congratulate them on their pollen-collecting skills. I even talk to spiders to ask them to please keep their distance.

There is little wonder then that I talk all the time.

Our children are grown and flown and visit frequently for short periods when everyone talks at once and no-one listens. The dogs and cats listen intently until they have been fed, watered or exercised, then they sleep. I know Barry hears me but often doesn't listen (or register) for he inhabits another planet entirely so usually I am alone, though never lonely.

The advent of the mobile phone has been a blessing for me for now it is completely normal to look as if one is talking to oneself but even thus, it is a give-away when I say enthusiastically, 'Oh, look! Look at those flowers . . . or sheep . . . or shoes' and there is no-one anywhere near me. I can never understand people who say, 'I didn't know I'd lost my voice because I didn't see anyone to talk to.' I would know instantly and then ask myself why I was whispering.