The Last Bees of the Year

 The weather is misty grey and damp, but it is also rather mild. Hence I've been able to get out and take a look at the ivy plant at the far end of the campus badlands, and see who is about. 

We don't get ivy mining bees on this ivy bush; it might be a bit noisy and dirty for them here as the heavy traffic thunders by on the A46 emitting heaven only knows what pollutants into the air. But the honeybees were feeding off the remnants of the ivy flowers. 

Because it isn't exactly high summer, the bees were quite low energy and were thus fairly easy to photograph. 

They can't be on the wing for much longer, and the sad months of the year start. October and November, everything goes to sleep, and the colours of campus become green and brown, with the stark remains of this years teasel silhouetted against the sunsets. Late December, the first snowdrops emerge and the cycle begins anew.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 16.10.24

Ivy Mining Bees...and a Fat Spider!

 As is the case at this time of year, as the ivy blooms with its strange corona-virus looking flowers, the ivy mining bees emerge to gather with the honeybees, hoverflies and wasps who also make use of this vital autumn supply of pollen. 

With their vivid yellow-orange stripes, they are probably the second most beautiful bee species, after the female tawny mining bees that fly at the opposite end of the season in early spring. They are fast moving and to get good photos of them is a bit of a challenge but my Pixel 6A seems to be a lot better at focussing quickly that my Motorola G7 was. 

Also lurking was about the fattest, palest orb spider I've ever seen.

Perhaps it has eaten a good few ivy mining bees!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 20.09.22

Still life on the Ivy Flowers

Deep into October, and there are still little pockets of flowers offering food to our pollinators. 

I speak mainly of  course of ivy flowers, aside from a few lavender and verbena that are still hanging on, these are the most numerous source of pollen around at the moment. 

All the bushes seem to come into flower at different times; while some have now gone over and all but transformed into berries, others have now come into bloom. 

With the colder weather, honeybees and bumblebees are no longer active, but there are still flies and wasps about, and of course ivy mining bees too, who will keep going into November providing it doesn't get too cold.

It seems strange to me that until a few weeks ago I'd never seen one in my life, and now I'm coming across lots of them when I'm out and about.

They are certainly a beautiful species, up there with female tawny mining bees in my view, with the orange-yellow stripes on the abdomen being a colour that seems so vivid without there seemingly being any reason for it being out of the ordinary. 

Goes to show, always keep an eye on the ivy!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 23.10.21

More Life in the Ivy

 The ivy bush where I found my first ivy bee the other week has seemingly gone past its best, like all the autumnal world seems to, but in Sconce and Devon Park there were bushes that were in their full coronavirus flower, and these were alive with insects.

I see pictures of ivy plants swarming with red admiral butterflies, but I've never yet seen a butterfly on an ivy flower. Once again, these bushes were home to hoverflies, honeybees, wasps, and this time a bumblebee.

And there was another ivy bee too, with its beautiful yellow-orange striped abdomen. It's funny when you notice a species for the first time, you suddenly can't stop noticing them.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 21.09.21

The Importance of Ivy

Sources of food for pollinators are getting fewer and fewer as the sun makes its journey southwards, over the celestial equator and down into the constellation of  Libra.

That's why Ivy, with its ironically coronavirus like flowers, is so important to end of season insects. Wasps love it, as do hoverflies and more mundane flies. But they are all doing their bit for the environment. 

Of course ivy bees are famous for their attraction to these most pungent smelling of plants, but I've never seen any around here. Ordinary honeybees aren't keen on ivy, but over in the library gardens they are enjoying the sedum with its almost cauliflower like blooms.

What I always think of as being the grim months now lie ahead, October, November and December where no new life emerges in the plants and verges. Of course this year, the pandemic adds to the feeling of lifelessness.

Perhaps the late winter and the spring will see the new life emerge as we emerge from this mess. But I don't know how hopeful to be.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 29.09.20

My Ivy has a Sound

And it is the buzzing of a multitude of insects.

My driveway is absolutely full of ivy; in the hedgerows, sprawling over the garage, climbing over the wall into the mental health drop in centre. It is in flower now, the little clusters of green buds now erupting into those funny tiny little yellow flowers. The smell is powerful too, the smell that made folk turn up their nooses by the university library all those years ago.

It was a sunny start this morning, but I forgot to check as I was out doing my Parkrun thing; two in a week now, good boy! I think if I had done, then I would have found red admirals and bees about on it, but as it happened the sun had gone in, grey clouds began to stack up on grey clouds, and all that were left were mainly wasps and a few hoverflies.

But it was still alive. THere aren't many flowers to be found now, and as filling stations go, this was a busy and buzzy one.

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCRackeredNature 01.10.16