Tiny, But Mighty, Pollinators

It's Pollinator Week, so it seems like a perfect time to write about pollinators.  Little pollinators, to be more specific.

The first spring after we moved into The Land of the Giant Trees, small white flowers with yellow centers appeared in relative abundance around the yard.  Although I was pretty sure these were some sort of fleabane (Erigeron sp.), I wasn't sure which one.

"Are they useful for pollinators?" Prairie Boy kept asking, "Because they look rather weedy."  The question amused and irritated me.  We have all been brainwashed to think that almost any plant that grows without being purchased from somewhere is a "weed".  I'm trying hard to uproot this attitude from my own psyche, but it's well established and deeply rooted, even for me.  

Despite my amusement about Prairie Boy's question, I had trouble answering it.  My instinct was to say yes, the fleabane was useful for pollinators since these plants were native, but I honestly wasn't seeing much action on the flowers.  No honey bees.  No bumble bees.  No butterflies.  (Although that last observation wasn't really fair, since we weren't seeing any butterflies anywhere.)

Surely SOMETHING was using the fleabane!

It seemed like a good idea to identify which fleabane we had.  It turned out to be Philadelphia Fleabane (Erigeron philadelphicus), a biennual. Now I could learn more about the plant and know what to expect from it in future years.

I started watching the blooms more closely...and I started noticing quite a bit of activity on the them.  However, almost all the visitors were tiny little insects that I literally couldn't see from very far away.  No wonder it didn't look like there was much activity on the fleabane until I started looking closely!  

The aster-like flowers of Philadelphia Fleabane are relatively small, about 3/4-1" in diameter, and most of the insects were MUCH smaller than the flowers.  In fact, many were so small that I had trouble identifying them much beyond "flying insect" with just my eyes.  As the days and weeks went by, though, it was obvious these tiny animals were, in fact, pollinators - and they were excellent pollinators at that.  The flowers developed into healthy seed heads in short order.

Eventually I started using my camera to focus on the tiny pollinators of Philadelphia Fleabane and other small flowers, trying to learn the identify of these minuscule creatures.  It's an amazing world that exists literally right alongside us - and yet most of us are completely unaware of these important little creatures who live inches from us.

As I explored this minute world further, I found a varied cast of characters.  Not only were there pollinators, but there were predators and parasitoids and even passers-by, who just seemed to be stopping in the neighborhood for a rest and a quiet "think".

For example, in the photo above, there is a Georgia Mason Bee (Osmia georgica) in the middle of the photo.  There is also a Club-horned Wasp (Sapyga centrata) in the upper left, a Harvestman (a.k.a. Daddy Longlegs) below that, a Crab Spider on the bloom just below and to the right of the mason bee, a tiny wasp about to land on that same bloom, and some other insect hiding on the other side of that blossom that I can't quite make out.  Any of these insects can be acting as pollinators as they move across the flowers, although the mason bee and the wasp are the ones we would traditionally categorize that way.  

Blue-eyed Grass (Sisyrinchium angustifolium) is another native plant that I didn't see pollinators using until I started looking more closely - and with a camera.  This member of the iris family has beautiful blue, but tiny, flowers.  They average about 1/2" in diameter.

In the photo above, a small Blue-eyed Grass flower is being pollinated by a tiny sweat bee (Lasioglossum sp.).....

and, in this second photo, another small Blue-eyed Grass flower is being pollinated by a tiny Thin-lined Calligrapher (Toxomerus boscii), a syrphid fly which is not only a pollinator as an adult, but a fierce aphid predator in its larval stage.

One of our native spireas, Meadowsweet (Spiraea alba), is another plant whose small flowers often attract small pollinators to them.  Each individual Meadowsweet flower is less than 1/4" across, although these small flowers are clustered in much larger, showy panicles.

It's easy for us to see the Emerald Flower Scarab (Trichiotinus lunulatus) pollinating the Meadowsweet flowers above, but the tiny, black Tumbling Flower Beetle (Mordella sp.) just beside it is also a potent pollinator, despite the fact that this little creature measures only about 1/4", just like each individual Meadowsweet flower it visits.

Goldenrods are yet another example of plants with showy, gorgeous blooms...that actually consist of tiny individual flowers.  They often attract tiny pollinators, too.

Here is a cloud of tiny sweat bees (Lasioglossum sp.) pollinating the flowers on Wreath Goldenrod (Solidago caesia) last October. Lasioglossum bees are fairly common tiny, but mighty, pollinators.

I was taught about the role of insects in pollination by learning about the Western Honey Bee, (Apis mellifera) which is actually a fairly large bee.  I'm not a gambler, but I'd be willing to place a good-sized bet that you learned about pollination as a function of the European honey bee, too.  Did you realize that honey bees are not native in North America, and that many folks consider them an invasive species?!  

So how did the plants on this continent get pollinated before Europeans brought honey bees over with them?  Our native pollinators, that's how, and many of these native pollinators are TINY.  Our native pollinators evolved with our native plants to do the job that needed to be done, and they are exceptionally good at doing their job. 

Check your flowers this summer.  Look past the "giant" bumble bees and the "large" honey bees for the smaller pollinators.   Then take a moment to let yourself get lost in wonder at the Lilliputian worlds all around us. It's pretty close to magic for me. 

  

 

 

Then and Now: A Living Explosion

"The yard is alive, with the sound of music!  With songs that've been sung for a million years...."  (My deepest apologies to Rodgers & Hammerstein for that abysmal rewording of their song.)

The yard IS alive, now, but when we moved in, it was quiet and boring.  Here's a summary of our journey so far....

THEN:    

    When we moved to southeast Virginia in fall 2019, our "new" yard challenged us. 

    The Prairie Boy was overwhelmed by the trees, 100+' giants that dwarfed the prairie trees he grew up with.  He likes to see the horizon, and you basically can't do that when you are surrounded by giant trees.  The yard was an enigma to him.

    The Druid was excited about having real, live, BIG trees in her everyday life again, having a true forest garden.  Her elementary school days had been spent in the eastern deciduous woodlands and she missed the ambiance and the ecosystem.

    However, the yard has ended up stymying both the Druid and the Prairie Boy.  These weren't just tall trees, these were TALL trees.  The neighbors told many tales of trees falling unexpectedly and hitting houses, so every time the wind blew, a sense of uncertainty swept in as well.

    There were remnants of prior landscaping in the yard, but they were truly remnants:  solo large shrubs, deer pruned and lonely, unsupported by companions and some seemingly placed almost at random.  In the spring, daffodils emerged and bloomed beautifully, but there were no flower beds, there was no lawn, and there was little discernible landscape design of any sort.

    Making matters even less promising, the vast majority of the huge shrubs were non-natives:  Chindo Viburnum, Camellias, Burford Hollies, Little Leaf Hollies, evergreen Azaleas, (small) Boxwoods, and a huge Rhododendron.  For native shrubs, there were a couple large Yaupon Hollies, planted way too close to the old greenhouse wall, and 3 Yellow Anise Shrubs.  Neither of these species are technically native to southeast Virginia, but at least they were "near natives".  There were no true native shrubs.

    As far as the "forest floor" was concerned, the yard had a lot of Japanese Stiltgrass and other non-native weeds, a few huge clumps of old fescue, a bit of Poison Ivy, and not much else besides the springtime daffodils and summer snowflakes.

    How in the world could we bring this space to life?  How could we create cohesion, and even beauty, in this struggling and rather awkward space?  In the spring of 2020, shown in the photo above, our newly acquired yard felt barren, despite the towering 100' tall trees that graced it.  We'd been feeding birds all winter, but there was precious little other wildlife to be found:  a skink or two, squirrels (of course), and honeybees from neighbors' hives, but almost no native insects.  That summer we had an Eastern Ratsnake show up one day, only to be found dead in the neighbor's driveway not long after.  A Leopard Frog made a brief appearance, as did a toad or two.  That was about it.

   I started pulling out the Japanese Stiltgrass the first summer, sitting directly on the ground, clearing out that invasive annual a few square feet at a time.  I'd researched stiltgrass and I'd learned that it didn't bloom and set seed until late summer or fall, but at that point it seeded prolifically;  I was determined to avoid new seed falling in as large an area as possible.  As I sat on the ground working, I got to know our yard "up close and personal".  

For example, in the photo above, you can see the bloom of a Naked-Flowered Tick-trefoil and a sedge, both of which are native, interspersed with the invasive non-native Japanese Stiltgrass, which has the broader leaves.  These particular native plants aren't showy, but the native insects need and use them. 

    I found a few really nice surprises:  several Striped Wintergreen plants (two are shown above), Southern Adder's Tongue, a few native tree and shrub seedlings, 2 stunted Mayapple leaves,  2 or 3 single Bloodroot leaves, and some nice Partridgeberry vines.   Mostly, though, I found a lot of non-natives, some of which were problematic and a few of which were outright invasive.

    Most disturbingly, I found almost no life in the leaf litter.  We'd left the leaves on the ground in the fall, so we did have leaf litter itself, but despite hours of sitting on the ground, all I saw that summer were a few little black crickets.

NOW: 

    It's been 4 years since that first daunting summer.  The Japanese stiltgrass still shows up a little, but it's easily pulled as I meander in the yard.  I've moved on to actively extracting Asiatic Hawkweed, fescue clumps, and Ground Ivy.  Ajuga is on my radar screen.  We've left the leaves every year and a healthy leaf litter has started to develop, feeding and protecting the soil, as well as providing habitat for a myriad of little animals.

 We've established a series of paths in the front yard, outlining them with branches from the tree trimming that has occurred.  We've left a large log and several small sections of logs,  forming an impromptu "jungle gym" for our grandsons in the front yard.  These have become favorite seats for me, as well.  In the back yard, we have a brush pile that the birds and the skinks find irresistible.

    For the most part over these intervening growing seasons, I've welcomed whatever native plants wanted to show up in the yard, relocating a few of them, but generally just observing and enjoying.  Because we have many seedlings sprouting, I can tell which plants are the birds' favorites, species like Spicebush, Wax Myrtle, and Black Cherry.  We've also planted a lot of native plants:  ferns, Columbine, Beautyberry, Viburnums, Goldenrod, Mayapples, and Bloodroot, just to name a few.

    We fight the deer...and the voles...and even, for a brief time last spring, a groundhog.  The deer have kept our newly planted plants undersized, but with judicious and regular use of deer repellants, we're finally seeing some growth.  Last spring the voles set us back on our heels for a while, but they haven't been as bad this year.

    Most excitingly, our yard has come alive with animal life.  These days I hear bird song all day long from a variety of species, including Brown Thrashers like the one shown above.   Fireflies twinkle at night.  

Butterflies flit through the air.  During the summer, I see Zebra Swallowtails and Eastern Tiger Swallowtails almost every day, but to get both in the same photo last summer felt like a real coup!  

In the leaf litter, there are now millipedes (like the one in the photo above), as well as snails and centipedes and roly-polies and firefly larvae and a gazillion ants and ...and ....and crickets, too, of course.  Moths have FINALLY appeared, especially the drab little leaf litter moths that are so incredibly important as food for many other animals.  

Solitary native bees, like this Georgia Mason Bee (Osmia georgica), visit our flowers and nest in the yard, as do a variety of solitary wasps who feed their young with paralyzed spiders or crickets or caterpillars or beetle larvae, depending on the species, helping to keep those populations in balance.

    So far this spring, we've had the parent birds of 10 different species bring their young to our feeders, including Carolina Wrens, Hairy Woodpeckers, and Brown Thrashers.  The photo above is of a father Downy Woodpecker feeding his daughter last spring.

    Pileated woodpeckers forage regularly on the stumps and the decomposing wood logs lining our paths.  

, 

    We have an untold number of Broad-headed Skinks in the yard, including this pair who had set themselves up in a prime location at the base of a dead tree.  Last summer, I also saw a Little Brown Skink, a species that lives entirely in the leaf litter.

    Butterfly numbers and species have increased, including this Common Buckeye (Junonia coenia) from last August, but greedily I would love to see even more.  I'm hoping that my increasing numbers of native flowers and host plants will bring them in - and help raise up new generations of lepidopterans.

    Most excitingly, this spring we've now seen TWO Eastern Ratsnakes, a big one and a little one.  Presumably they are why the voles are less of a problem this year!

    I still feel like the yard's design is far from optimal, but I'm continuing to work on it, aiming for beauty and cohesion as well as for increasingly healthy native plant and animal populations.

    

Ours may not be the most classically beautiful yard in the neighborhood, but it's rapidly becoming a most vibrant one, our own fascinating wildlife preserve.