Backyard Bees

Every summer, we see all different kinds of bees hovering in the flowerbed.  There’s one we’ve come to know as “Grand Master Bee” because he’s Ginormous.  I mean this is a huge bee, quite fuzzy.  Black, red, and yellow.  Every time we’ve spotted him, I’ve dashed into the house to fetch my camera.  By the time I’d return, he’d have flitted off someplace else.  This year, however, he not only stuck around, but he brought his twin.  Therefore, I cannot tell you which one is Wilbur, nor which is Orville.  They seem to have taken a particular shine to our lavender.

Please do click on these photos to enlarge for detail.

I attached a super long lens because, given his size, I suspected his stinger might be proportionally scary.

I figured this imposing insect must possess some sort of scientific name, so I went to my trusted source.  Dave’s Garden has taught me the sum total of what I know about nature’s critters, flora, fauna, and birdies.  I posted photos of our friend, and found that he has a befitting moniker.  Bombus Ternarius.  Almost sounds prehistoric, doesn’t it?  He’s also known as the Tricolored Bumble Bee.

Yep, I definitely see three colors there. I was also informed that these fellows don’t sting unless they’re seriously provoked.

Freakin’ beautiful, isn’t he?  Now that I know they’re semi-friendly, I won’t be afraid to wade in there and get some better images.

Speaking of Dave’s Garden, a few years back we noticed a little round area of earth taking up about three or four inches of our lawn.  Then we saw tiny metallic green bees flying in and out of a hole in the center of the circle.  Off I went to Dave, armed with photos of our intriguing new guests.

I found out they’re called ground bees, and was assured that their underground hive would not cause our lawn to collapse.

The entrance in the photo above is atop a mound.  Whereas, the portal in the image below is on flat earth.  Interestingly, it seems that the only time they mound the passage is before it rains.  How in the hell do they know, when the 9 News meteorologist isn't aware enough to take an umbrella to work?

I haven’t a clue where bees go in the winter, but the ground bees didn’t return to us until this summer.  I’ve spent hours observing them and getting as many super-close up shots as they’ll allow.  I sit cross-legged in the lawn, and scoot up a little closer to their doorway over a period of time.  After awhile, they get pretty used to me and put on a show.  Other times, I might approach the fortress while they’re at lunch, and get a sunburn waiting for activity.

Actually, what I've been hoping for is the Pulitzer winning moment when they fly in formation, spelling out some profound truth regarding the Higgs Boson particle.

In the meantime, I'll have to settle for my own amateur efforts.

However, I did get them on film.  (Hmm - film?  Not really.  No such thing anymore.  I guess that’s a phrase destined for extinction.)

 

 

RAM