Dear Readers, I’m sure that if you’ve been reading Bugwoman for a while you’ll know that I have an inordinate fondness for bumblebees. My husband was nervous about insects as a child, but he is completely relaxed with bumblebees flying within inches of his shoulder. I always think of bumbles as being ‘entry-level’ for people who are slightly insect-phobic – they’re big and furry, like flying teddy bears, and could not be more gentle – if you get a little too close they’ll raise a leg as if to say ‘thus far and no further’, but they will usually fly away rather than get confrontational. Plus, they pay humans practically no attention, unlike their relatives the wasps, who often seem a little too curious about what exactly we’re eating.

Bumblebees are also able to cope with very complex flower designs that other bees can’t seem to master – note the bumble in the first photo who is accessing the nectar in the just-opened honeysuckle. Of course, being heavy (so that plants such as antirrhinums open when they land on them) helps, as does the fact that different bumblebees have different tongue-lengths, and so can access different flower designs. But experiments seem to show that bumblebees can memorise how to access about five different ‘types’ of flowers. In order to learn another one, they have to forget one of the earlier designs. This sounds rather like me as I revise for my OU examination, so I am sympathetic.

Anyhow, I planted some Sicilian Honey Garlic especially for the bumblebees, and it seems to have worked. The upside-down flowers of this allium hold no fears for them.

Now, what’s interesting about this plant is that as each flower is pollinated, it closes up and becomes more ‘bud-like’, which means that the bees can’t access it any longer, and have to move on to other, unpollinated flowers. Watch as this bumble does exactly that, rejecting the flowers at the top of the plant which are closing up, and moving on to the ones that are still providing nectar. I love seeing this kind of relationship between plants and their pollinators.

Here is the Sicilian honey garlic only yesterday…

And here it is today. Note how several of the flowers are now closing up and starting to move into a vertical position. In the end, the plant will look as if it has a miniature Disney castle on the top. I promise to include a photograph. The one on the left that looks like a bud is now completely inaccessible to anymore bees, forcing them onto the flowers that are still open.

Anyhow, in spite of my obvious bumblebee favouritism, I do still love all the other bees – we’ve had ashy mining bees and early mining bees back on the flowering hydrangea today. The plant has a lovely subtle smell, especially after rain, and it is my pride and joy. Last year it was a bit shielded by some scaffolding, but it’s making up for it this year.

Ashy mining bee

Early mining bee

And finally, after an unfortunate incident in the shed (wherein an unidentified rodent gnawed through the last remaining non-metal container, and deposited a small hillock of peanuts in the middle of the floor), we are distributing said peanuts to all comers on the bird table. The jackdaws have taken a few, but basically it’s down to this guy. 

And here is a little film of him or her enjoying this sudden bounty. I know they’re a pest, but I always say that when you decide to make your garden welcoming to wildlife, you can’t be picky about who turns up. Plus, I have always had a soft spot for the underdog, for the less-than-glamorous, the maligned and the misunderstood. After all, many of us have fallen into at least one of these categories, and some of us know what  it’s like to have been at the intersection of all of them. It’s hard not to feel at least some empathy for our fellow creatures of all species as they just try to live their lives.