Mushrooms are not my most familiar subject, especially as far as specific types go. Most of the ones I can specifically recognize are the distinctive looking ones (exactly the ones you’d expect). Mushrooms are undoubtedly worth knowing about, but so far I have mostly just been observing (and photographing) them. And I’ve been spotting some interesting ones lately.
The time of year when the asters and goldenrod are blooming (late summer to early fall) is the time of year when most social insects (insects that live in colonies) like honey bees are at their highest population for the year. The asters are one of the last major nectar flowers for the honey bees, and the asters are covered in them. At first glance it may seem to be all honey bees and other social insects (like hornets and bumble bees), but there’s actually quite a wide variety of pollinators drawn to them.
Social wasps like paper wasps apply the large workforce of an insect colony to a different task than that of the honey bees (although wasps are still pollinators): pest control. Adult wasps feed on nectar while their larvae eat other insects. The larvae aren’t able to catch insects to eat on their own, so they rely on the adults in the colony to hunt for them. Paper wasps seem to be pretty non-aggressive from what I’ve experienced, so these are the ones I hope will establish nests around my garden.
Like paper wasps, bald-faced hornets hunt insects for their larvae, but they also have a reputation for being ferocious, and having very painful stings. I suspect though, that the temperament of individual colonies varies. For one season there was a colony of bald-faced hornets on the from of my house. No one got stung in the time it was there, even though I got pretty close to it a few times. Either way, the foragers (not by the nest) are fairly calm, most of the time. I’ve always thought they were really cool looking, but this is the first year I’ve been able to get pictures of them I’m satisfied with.
I took these pictures of a spotted rove beetle (platydracus maculosus) at the beginning of this month, but I saw what I think may have been the same (individual) beetle again yesterday. My main reason for thinking that is that I found it in exactly the same spot as last time.
Rove beetles don’t seem to be very well known and it wasn’t easy finding any information that was specific to this species. I found out about them when this spring’s flooding drove them out of their usual cover, and now I seem to be keyed in to them because they’re very unique looking and I find them cute.
Over the last month, we’ve been working on planting crops for the fall and winter. Now we’re starting to be able to harvest our first greens from our efforts, but they aren’t the ones we planted! Those ones are still coming along, but aren’t ready yet. The plants we’ve been harvesting are weeds. Many of the weeds that commonly pop up in gardens are actually edible and nutritious, and if you know which ones they are, they can add variety to the harvest (and make it come sooner as most of them are very quick growing and are best harvested young). Here’s a look at what we’re harvesting.
Amaranth is not just a weed, it is a plant that is often grown as a crop, but it also grows wild and is often treated as a weed when it does. We have a wild variety, and we also have a variety that is a cultivar that has probably crossed with the wild variety, and just pops up in the chicken yard now (and wherever the soil from the chicken yard goes, like our garden).
This is one of our most prevalent weeds and as a stronger green, much more comes up than we can eat. Fortunately, the chickens love it, and we like to share it with them. Especially in the winter when greens are scarce, wild mustard growing in our hoophouse (along with bittercress and some greens from our crops) helps satisfy their constant appetite for greens.
This plant has a lot of common names, many of which are also used for other unrelated plants. In other words, the common names of chinopodium album are a bit of a disorganized mess. I like wild spinach since it is fairly descriptive (it is related to spinach, although technically it is more closely related to quinoa), and I’ve never heard anything else being called that. Other names I’ve heard this plant called are goosefoot, lamb’s quarters, fat hen, and pigweed (this name is also applied to amaranth).
At this time of year, honey bees can be reluctant to build comb. Comb takes a lot of resources to build, and empty comb is not of value to a colony heading into winter. (It is actually a liability.) So bees don’t want to build new comb if they might not be able to fill it with honey before winter, and usually this time of year they are focusing on filling the comb they have with nectar. Wax that the bees do produce is often used to cap cells of ripe honey or even elongate cells intended for honey so that they can pack the space they’re already using with even more.
At the moment, the little colonies I started this summer are still quite… little. They don’t really have enough comb to fit the amount of honey they require over the winter. I actually have a box of comb that I can give each of them as soon as they each finish filling the box they are in now. (The reason they have to finish filling the box they’re in is due to differences in hive part compatibility.) In the meantime, I have been feeding them ‘bee tea’, which is a sugar syrup made with herbal tea to help them digest the sugar. It is earlier in the year than I would normally feed them, since I only feed sugar if they are likely to starve if I don’t. The goldenrod and asters are still on their way; in the past, I’ve fed them after most of the nectar sources are done for the year and they haven’t collected enough. This year, I’m feeding them to produce the comb to be able to store enough.
The recipe for the bee tea comes from the website of Spikenard Farm Honeybee Sanctuary.
https://spikenardfarm.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/02/Healing-Tea-for-Honeybees-2_15_15.pdf
Willowherb is a plant with a very small pink flower, that I’ve always looked at with mild curiosity, but it wasn’t until I noticed its seedpod that I decided to identify it (there’s always a variety of things to identify, vying for my attention). I’d not seen a seedpod quite like it before, although I’d seen plenty of other interesting seedpods. Both the flower and the seedpods of willowherb are small and all these photos are larger than life size. The seeds are probably about the size of poppy seeds and the flowers about the size of a lentil. I don’t know a whole lot about them yet, but they did finally manage to catch my attention!
A very common wildflower (or weed, depending on one’s perspective) in my area is a plant known as queen anne’s lace, but it is also called wild carrot, because it is the ancestor of the carrots most people are familiar with eating. It is actually even the same species as domestic carrot. Its presence in large number in the area is a clue that domestic carrots can grow well here (and I have found that to be true). But ironically, its presence also makes it almost impossible to save seeds from domestic carrots grown here, assuming you want the domestic carrots to stay domestic; they will cross with the wild carrots and eventually revert back to wild carrots themselves.
At this point in the year, the wild carrots that are in their second year of life are flowering (carrots are biennials, meaning that they live two years). The flowers are food for many pollinators, but I’ve noticed bumble bees seem to especially like them. Bumble bees race around the flowers while foraging on wild carrot, somehow gathering up pollen while on the run.
In their first year, wild carrots produce a long taproot to store energy for overwintering. In their second year they flower, grow seeds, and die. Domestic carrots are pretty much the same, but with a slightly more exaggerated, and more colorful, taproot. (Wild carrots have white roots.)
A couple of days ago, I spotted a very large moth in the hoophouse. It was apparently nocturnal, and seemed to be sleeping. When I went out a little later to photograph it, I found it resting on the side of the hoophouse, with its wings spread and the light shining through them. This made for a very good opportunity for pictures since I had all the time I needed, and… mostly enough light.
I returned at dusk to make sure it was able to find its way out of the hoophouse, and it became even more clear that it was nocturnal.
I caught this tiny little sweat bee trying to find her way out of our hoophouse. She had obviously been foraging on something, probably thistle, judging by all the white pollen she had acquired around her back legs. Sweat bee is a common name given to a family of bees that like to lick sweat for the minerals it contains. This particular type of sweat bee is the smallest bee I see around here. As small as they are, female sweat bees can still sting a human, but they reserve this ability for when they are in immediate danger of being crushed to death. And yet, they are one of the more likely bees to be stung by simply because they are tiny and have a habit of landing on people, who may not notice they’re there. Fortunately, their venom is extremely mild (maybe just because there’s so little of it); for me, the effects last less than five minutes.
After I had carried her out of the hoophouse, this little bee let me take some pictures of her before she flew off. She even seemed a bit curious about my camera, crawling too close to the lens to focus on, and landing briefly on the camera as she flew away.
