The most difficult thing I have ever had to write – Insects – A Very Short Introduction

A wonderful post by Professor Simon Leather.

Don't Forget the Roundabouts

The book!

I have written a lot of papers (more than 220 according to Web of Science) and quite a few books, two real ones (Leather et al., 1993; Leather & Bland, 1996) and eight edited volumes, over the last forty odd years. Up until now I thought the most exacting piece of writing I had ever done was my entry for the Biological Flora (Leather, 1996). I mention this because it has a very similar feel to my most recent, most difficult piece of writing, Insects, A Very Short Introduction.

I did my PhD on the bird cherry aphid, Rhopalosiphum padi (Leather, 1980) during which I developed a real love for the bird cherry tree, Prunus padus. Just to illustrate this, my second son’s middle name is Tuomi – Finnish for bird cherry. Over the next decade or so I expanded my studies on to the…

View original post 1,564 more words

Giving thanks

FREE MOTHERING SUNDAY GIFT AT THE END OF THIS POST.

The world has changed a lot since I last visited my blog. The other day Constance and I stopped on our morning walk to watch a bush buzzing with bees. “Look mummy! Bees!” said Constance. “That means spring is coming!” She talks now.

Yet in many ways, the world has stayed the same. This past week has been emotionally exhausting. International Women’s Day highlighted the achievements of women throughout a global pandemic, but also the huge setback it has caused in terms of gender equality as the larger share of childcare has fallen upon women working from home. A disproportionate amount of hate has been directed towards a young couple in California for saying how online bullying has affected their mental health. And the tragic disappearance of Sarah Everard has sent many into a frenzied outpouring of public grief, which may not be what her family and friends would wish for at this time.

Thinking of these recent events made me want to step back from the world just as it starts to open up. Then my mind returned to the bees and their first cautious flights after a winter lockdown. They don’t know what will be waiting for them outside, but every year they start where they are. We can’t change what has happened in the past, but we can change where we are going.

This time last March, I was running around after a 20-month-old toddler with a fever (mine) of 38.4C, on a good day, and pain in my lungs and chest. I had caught a virus. I don’t know if it was The Virus because, like many others, I was not tested and will never know for sure, but it has taken almost a year to recover. Today I breathe with lungs that feel almost clear again, and I look forward to celebrating Mothering Sunday with my 2-year-old in a few hours. She doesn’t know it’s Mothering Sunday, so I won’t get a lie-in with a cup of tea. But I’m looking forward to surprising her with a pretend make-up set that she has been asking about for ages.

To give thanks that I am still here, and so are my loved ones, when others have lost much more, I have made a set of nature-inspired postcards – some of which are featured in this post. The files are freely available to download below as printable pdfs. Each download contains six postcards sized at 105 x 148mm (4.1 x 5.8 inches). I hope you will enjoy using them – they look quite nice printed on glossy paper. Thank you if you have continued to follow my blog during my very long maternity leave from keeping bees. I don’t know when I will return for good, but I wish for you all to enjoy the warmer days of spring.

What do bees and babies have in common?

What do babies and bees have in common? They don’t read the same books as me.

Our queen bee arrived on 20 July. We named her Constance Amelia Maund. She is about three months old here and staring at the sunlight through the trees for the first time.

As you may have guessed, I have been on ‘bee maternity leave’ since then.

You see, I read lots of baby books before she arrived but threw them out not long after. Constance clearly hadn’t read about ‘the routine’. Instead, I stuck to Dr Spock’s reassuring words and let baby lead the way. Dr Spock is like the Ted Hooper of the baby book world.

Like bees, babies also help you to see the world through new eyes. Constance loves her pram walks. On mild, autumn days we stayed out for hours looking at the sunlight through the trees and the colours of the autumn leaves. For me too, it was like seeing these things for the first time and realising how wonderful they are.

47342075_10156936017178383_5081342801073930240_n

Sometimes I would get her out of the pram and we would walk beneath the weeping willows so that she could feel the gentle branches sweep across her face and to take a closer look at the ducks. She wasn’t sure about the ducks.

47572496_10156936016708383_8820416646070927360_n

47396411_10156936017223383_6731556789105459200_n

After the clocks went back, our walks became shorter and our trips to the library more frequent – a good opportunity for Constance to see all those books she was supposed to have read.

47085394_10156936017523383_1292314182867222528_n

She mostly likes the touch-and-feel books, particularly That’s not my unicorn!.

Winter is here now. I tell Constance lots of stories to keep her entertained on dark December days, particularly about the bees and how they are looking forward to spring as much as we are.

I have no idea what our ‘routine’ will look like next year. I hope to have a couple of Saturday afternoons here and there to visit the apiary and bring back home more stories from the other beekeepers to tell Constance.

Until then, I’d like to wish humans and hymenopterans everywhere a very merry festive season.

47188731_10156936017603383_2304443025968857088_n

The bee garden from May to July

20180711_161908

Our neighbour’s buddleia is thriving much to the delight of bees, butterflies, hoverflies and wasps, and providing a feast of insects for the birds.

Our own garden has overgrown in the heatwave as preparations for a special arrival (we don’t know yet whether we will have a queen bee or a king drone) have taken priority this summer.

But we have made some big changes to the garden. The fish have gone to a better place – someone my mother found was able to rehome our goldfish in a magnificent pond easily ten times the size of our tiny pool.

The frog ponds are teeming with tadpoles and the frogs have shown their appreciation over our lack of garden maintenance by sitting on rocks sheltered by ivy.

The solitary bee nests hidden beneath the untamed clematis are filling up nicely, as far as I can see. Ours truly is a secret garden this year.

20180711_162237

At the apiary, mine and Emily’s hives were very kindly looked after by Thomas Bickerdike until he found two excellent beekeepers to take over Everlasting’s and Angelica’s colonies. So like Emily, I have said farewell to our lovely Ealing bees but in the knowledge that they have two new wonderful keepers, Jo and Dinesh, under whom they will thrive and make new queens and new stories.

This is a big week for John and I as our due date approaches, so it is here that I will leave the bee garden for the summer. I hope that your prayers and good wishes will be with us, until I return to gardening and blogging in the autumn.

UPDATE Our baby girl Constance has arrived and is doing wonderfully.

In the bee garden from March to April

20180409_145505

The grape hyacinth flows like a river of blue along garden borders, hedgerows and woodland spaces. A small, hardy plant that doesn’t seem to mind the cold. It has patiently waited for the bees while the crocuses withered in late frosts.

20180321_150747

These plump, purple-blue flowers are receiving many bee visitors as spring awakes.

20180409_145433

Like our toadflax, grape hyacinth spreads quickly to fill beds and borders. If you don’t mind flowers that choose where they want to go (I don’t mind, it’s my idea of lazy gardening), then grape hyacinth looks pretty when planted under trees and left to wander across the lawn (a very charming planting scheme I’ve seen in neighbouring gardens).

If you prefer a tidier garden, you could try planting grape hyacinth in a spring container as an Easter present for the bees. But I can’t promise it will stay contained.

I came across a few garden escapees during a local walk. Grape hyacinth and cowslips bolting under the gate.

20180413_160055

IMG-20180415-WA0000

The dandelions are also coming out and some are growing up in the trees.

IMG-20180415-WA0002

The soil is still too wet in our garden to do much – not that much needs to be done. Mulching our beds and containers with gravel, bark or leaves in October has helped to slow down the growth of weeds this spring, although the long, cold winter has probably helped too.

20180318_091255

After a second serving of snow in March we put the bee house back in the shed to keep warm. I also expected the frogspawn to freeze but it has survived. However, we did lose one of our goldfish, Zachary, after the thaw. John buried him at the bottom of the garden with our other two fish under the stones.

20180316_160435

When the weather frustrates your gardening, as in beekeeping, there is little else to do but make plans. I’ve been eyeing up the lungwort (pulmonaria) that’s sprung up uninvited in my parent’s garden (and which my step dad calls ‘weed’). It would look nice growing in the shade of our ivy.

The lungwort hasn’t made itself any more popular by planting itself right outside my parent’s front door. This busy flight path has resulted in a standoff between bee and human each time the door is opened. I would show you a close-up photo of these determined little insects, but I’m not able to bend down as easily with my camera these days.

20180409_144858

John and I are expecting our own new arrival in July. For now, the bees, birds, fish and frogs can take care of themselves, and I think they will do just fine.

NEXT POST: In the bee garden from May to June.

A year in the bee garden – February

In the short month of February there is little activity in the bee garden, but there is a lot to observe. Which early bulbs have emerged – the snowdrops and crocuses planted in the shade beside the ivy or those planted in the lawn? Which plants are already springing up new shoots – the crocosmia or daffodils? These seasonal observations tell me which type of flowers grow well in the soil and which conditions of light, shade and shelter suit them best. Year after year, I can invest more time in the flowers that thrive in the bee garden and in the bees who visit them.

Planting a bee garden – or a pollinator or wildlife garden – is very exciting and there are many ‘plants for bees’ lists that publish at this time of year to give you plenty of ideas. However, planting any garden that successfully blooms and attracts a wide variety of insects and other wildlife is not as easy as it sounds. There are important observations that need to be made.

1. What is the soil like?

When you pick up a handful of soil and squeeze it, is the texture clumpy and sticky (perhaps like clay) or looser and gravelly (perhaps like sand)? When it rains, does the soil drain slowly or quickly? When it is dry, does the soil harden and crack or retain its moisture?

You don’t need to become an expert in soil types, or rush out to get a pH kit to test the acidity or alkalinity of your soil (although you can if you want to), but a few simple observations like these will give you a better idea of what types of plants will grow best in your garden. You’ll know, for example, when you read the plant label or seed packet whether your soil can provide suitable conditions or not. February is often a good month to make these observations as the weather can change from mild and wet to cold and dry from one week to the next.

If you suspect that you have heavy, clay soil that drains poorly, then this doesn’t mean that you can’t grow a bee-pleaser like lavender which prefers lighter, well-draining soil. It just means that you may have to dig over the bed with plenty of multi-purpose garden compost or some horticultural sand, and/or add this to the hole in which it is planted [*See edit below]. Alternatively, plant the lavender in a raised bed (such as building a new bed at ground level and filling it with more suitable soil), a container or a large pot.

Remember to observe the soil in different parts of your garden, because there may be some variation.

*Lindylou adds a useful comment below on taking care not to remove the fertility of clay soil by adding amendments. This includes adding coconut coir or cardboard to heavy clay soil rather than sand, which may produce cement. She says both coconut coir or cardboard “allow airpockets to develop by enticing garden earthworms which love to eat both products”. In addition, she also uses lava grit “to take up the water that will not sink during winter time”.

Like all things, learning how to garden is as much about trial and error. My lavender grew poorly the first year when I planted it in the clay soil of our garden. It also didn’t have enough sun. So I moved it to the back of the garden and mixed the soil with garden compost (and a very small amount of builders’, not horticultural, sand!) and it seems to have perked up! I will try cardboard next time as I have plenty of that at home.

2. How much sun and shade do you have?

The middle part of our garden is long and narrow with an ivy hedge to the right and bushes of cotoneaster, jasmine and choisya to the left. I’ve resigned myself to the fact that few flowers will grow in the shady, walled bed beside the ivy where even foxgloves and bluebells struggle. This part of the garden has become a haven for frogs and thirsty birds and insects with a selection of frog ponds and shallow baths. I’ve also half buried broken flower pots and crockery in the soil to make shelters for weary creatures to rest. The decking at the front of the garden has a flowerbed that sticks out further, and in spring and summer it gets enough sunlight in the morning to sustain the myrtle tree with flowers and berries. The back of the garden is very exposed – a suntrap for sun-loving plants like toadflax, Mediterranean herbs, and, of course, sunflowers.

Observing how sun and shade fall across your garden from season to season and at different times of the day can help to plan where to plant. For instance, there’s no point in planting a row of sedum along a sunny fence in early spring only to later find out in autumn, when sedum flowers, that it gets very little sunshine.

It’s also a good idea to notice which parts of the garden get shelter from wind and rain – useful if you’re planning on planting tall plants like sunflowers or buddleias, which may benefit from some shelter, as well as plenty of sun, on a very windy day.

3. Who visits your garden?

It’s not all about the bees. Our garden enjoys a variety of insect visitors including hoverflies, butterflies, lacewings, solitary wasps, ants and spiders (ok, arachnids too). There are many different bees who visit from honeybees and bumbles to leafcutters and masons. We’ve even had the occasional dragonfly, although they don’t seem to lay their larvae in the pond and are probably prowling for bees to eat. Observing which insects are already in your area can help you to choose the flowers that attract them.

For example, our toadflax caters for the carder bees from early summer to late autumn. The honeybees and bumbles are satisfied by the smoke tree in spring, salvia and lemonbalm in summer, and snowberry and sedum in autumn. The sweat bees are kept happy by leaving the yellow thistles to flower in spring. However, I rarely see leafcutters or masons foraging in the garden, although they use our nesting tubes. Perhaps I need to plant up more areas for these solitary bees and leave more dandelions for the masons.

4. What is flowering in your area?

A walk around your local area to see which plants are growing in your neighbours’ gardens can be a good indicator of what will grow well in your garden. Year after year in winter, yellow primroses pop up in front gardens along our street and winter-flowering hebes produce rich purple-red blooms. There are so many that I suspect the birds and squirrels have been very busy gardening, although many humans are good gardeners too.

5. How much time do you have to spend in your garden?

This is the most important observation of all. Before you begin planting a bee garden, consider how much time you actually have for weeding, pruning, mowing, watering, and transplanting throughout the year. If you don’t have much time, then read up on hardy plants and shrubs that are easy to care for. Do you want to grow annuals (that you may have to re-seed or re-plant each year, although some do successfully re-seed themselves) or invest in perennials (that are more likely to return and flower each year).

You might also want to consider the type of flower beds that will require the least attention – mulched beds (where a layer of gravel, bark, leaves or compost is laid above the soil) allow the stems of established plants to continue to grow but slows down the growth of weeds. Otherwise, container gardening may be more manageable if you’re just starting out or have a small garden, although containers and pots needs more watering than plants that are in the ground.

Once you’ve got to know your garden, choose some bee-friendly flowers to plant from these lists. Don’t forget the birds either – they’ll appreciate plants that berry and seed for autumn and winter.

Plants for bees and other pollinators

The RHS Perfect for pollinators provides a very comprehensive lists of plants.

The International Bee Research Association (IBRA) also has a good book Plants for Bees by W D J Kirk & F N Howes.

Use the Bumblebee Conservation Trust online tool to find out how bee-kind is your garden.

Buglife also provide a good guide to gardening with bugs in mind.

[EDIT] philipstrange also suggests this list of bee-friendly plants on Dave Goulson’s web site: http://www.sussex.ac.uk/lifesci/goulsonlab/resources/flowers and singles out pulmonaria “as a must for bee enthusiasts as it attracts the very early Hairy-footed flower bee”.

Consider where to buy or source your plant. Perhaps a friendly neighbour will let you take a few cuttings from their garden to get you started, or you may already have bee-friendly plants in your garden that just need propagating and spreading. Otherwise, order online from nurseries like Bee Happy Plants who don’t use pesticides and herbicides.

The RHS guide to soil types is helpful for getting to know your garden and the plants that will grow best.

A year in the bee garden – January

In January, the squirrels hop across the lawn digging up their buried treasure. It’s a good idea to keep the squirrel house full of monkey nuts unless you want spring bulbs unearthed and bird feeders raided. The magpies like the nuts too, and squabble with the squirrels.

Shoots of snowdrops and crocuses begin to poke above the ground. It has been so cold this winter that few brave bumblebees have been seen.

There is not much to do in the garden while the ground is hard, and little point in tidying up fallen leaves where insects and other creatures may still be sheltering till spring.

If you are tempted to do some gardening and accidentally disturb a queen bumblebee nesting underground, put the earth or leaves gently back to avoid disturbing her further.

The fish pond and frog ponds were checked regularly this month to make sure they didn’t freeze. As usual, the goldfish took advantage of each inspection to beg for food.

Soon it will be time to hang out the solitary bee nests that have been hibernating in the sheds and to prepare this year’s nesting tubes.

Coming soon: February in the bee garden.

A year in the bee garden – December

It was the night before Christmas, when all through the garden not a creature was stirring, not even a fox. 

The bees were nestled all snug in their hives, while visions of spring danced in their heads…

A little Christmas story from the bees to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a happy new year.

A year in the bee garden – November

A few lingering butterflies rested their wings on the ivy flowers in November, but they were too fleeting to catch with my camera.

November is a good month to plan next year’s garden by taking note of which plants have thrived best in which parts of the garden, and which have attracted the most insect visitors.

My bee garden calendar is slowly coming together, starting with spring flowers and spring-flowering shrubs (snowdrops, crocuses, bluebells, cotoneaster, hebe, smoke tree), long-lasting summer flowers (salvia, scabiosa, toadflax) and late summer to autumn blooms (snowberry, sedum). All of these plants seem to grow well in our heavy clay soil.

November is also a month of surprises.

Our fatsia has flowered for the first time to the delight of honeybees, bumble bees, hoverflies, and to me.

The mornings are getting frosty. Even the frogs are no longer bothering to pop up and watch John when he is gardening.

Soon the bee garden will sleep for winter.

A year in the bee garden – October

Summer came back in October – word had reached her of the ‘backwinter‘. The bees made the most of the ‘backsummer’. The hive entrance was too busy to put on mouseguards as foragers flew home with baskets of yellow pollen.

However, a quick inspection showed that nectar was out of stock. I filled the syrup feeders, and filled them five times again in October, and the bees drank up every last drop.

Since then I have been unable to visit the apiary and my husband John, my mum Ronnie, and Ealing beekeeper Thomas have put on mouseguards and fondant for winter.

In the garden, the salvia was pleasing a few late bumble bee queens, the orange buddleia was still blooming for the carder bees, and the spiders were trying to catch the last honeybees visiting the snowberry.

October is a good time for a garden tidy-up before the ground gets too wet or hard. John and I finished the weeding started in September, while John laid plastic sheeting and gravel over the most stubborn areas of weed, and I mulched the flower beds with soft bark chippings and fallen leaves.

Gravelling and mulching may sound very unfriendly to bees, and other wildlife, but I’ve found that many bee-friendly plants will grow happily in-between and that slowing down the growth of weeds (without using chemicals) leaves more time for other wildlife-friendly activities. Such as emergency bee rescues.

John found a carder bee frozen still on the garden hose. I made her a warm nest for the night from rolled-up corrugated cardboard and put her in the shed. The next morning she had sugar water for breakfast before flying off.

Our ivy had only begun to flower at the end of October, but fewer bees were visiting. Who will be left to enjoy it?