Articles reprinted by permission of Rusty Burlew (author) and American Bee Journal (publisher)
Honey Bee Suite
A BETTER WAY TO BEE
The Bee Inspired Garden: spectacular blooms for bee people
by Rusty Burlew
Conceived by a beekeeper with love for all kinds of bees, Bee Inspired Gardens in Onalaska, Washington offers visitors a place to interact with pollinators galore. The massive plantings are teeming with honey bees, wild bees, flower flies, and butterflies. Be sure to visit! Inside: Bee Inspired Garden is “a demonstration pollinator habitat and interactive educational center designed to educate the public about the critical role pollinators play in our lives and economy.” (This article first appeared in American Bee Journal, Volume 162 No. 10, November 2022, pp 1239-1243.)
In the early spring of 2020, I agreed to speak to beekeepers at the newly dedicated Bee Inspired Garden in Onalaska, Washington. But the raging pandemic slayed the schedule, so I never made the trip.
This past spring, however, a full two years later, I received a surprise invitation to stop by the gardens and photograph bees whenever I liked. Descriptions of outsized patches of crimson clover, Oregon sunshine, and bachelor buttons accompanied the overture. Just the thought of wandering loose among all those flowers made me giddy with anticipation.
The Bee Inspired Garden is near my home, perhaps 45 minutes: a half hour south on the freeway, followed by a hard left toward the mountains. There, remnants of northwest forest fringe patches of fenced farmland and hills rollercoaster toward the Cascades. About halfway between Seattle and Portland, the tiny towns along the road remain hidden and nondescript, but to me, they feel like home.
After crawling through the town of Onalaska (speed limit strictly enforced) I admired the flower-laced roadsides and blooming trees. Rural roads always remind me of the hours I spent in the backseat of my parent’s car, curious about silos and tractors and cows. I soaked in the roadside wonders while smearing the windows with my Tootsie Rolled fingers.
A garden among the treesAs I got closer, I searched for something — a house, barn, or signpost — anything to signal I was in the right place. With relief, I finally spotted a farmhouse ahead on my left. Trouble is, the little voice who lives inside my dashboard — Samantha, is it? — insisted I had arrived at my destination. But I couldn’t see any destination, just more lovely trees, and the farmhouse on the wrong side of the road.
I found a place to U-turn and went back, passing an unmarked driveway through the trees, and then another hidden by thick brush. But there it was on a post, the coveted number I was searching for. Samantha was right. Again.
In the early spring of 2020, I agreed to speak to beekeepers at the newly dedicated Bee Inspired Garden in Onalaska, Washington. But the raging pandemic slayed the schedule, so I never made the trip.
This past spring, however, a full two years later, I received a surprise invitation to stop by the gardens and photograph bees whenever I liked. Descriptions of outsized patches of crimson clover, Oregon sunshine, and bachelor buttons accompanied the overture. Just the thought of wandering loose among all those flowers made me giddy with anticipation.
The Bee Inspired Garden is near my home, perhaps 45 minutes: a half hour south on the freeway, followed by a hard left toward the mountains. There, remnants of northwest forest fringe patches of fenced farmland and hills rollercoaster toward the Cascades. About halfway between Seattle and Portland, the tiny towns along the road remain hidden and nondescript, but to me, they feel like home.
After crawling through the town of Onalaska (speed limit strictly enforced) I admired the flower-laced roadsides and blooming trees. Rural roads always remind me of the hours I spent in the backseat of my parent’s car, curious about silos and tractors and cows. I soaked in the roadside wonders while smearing the windows with my Tootsie Rolled fingers.
A garden among the treesAs I got closer, I searched for something — a house, barn, or signpost — anything to signal I was in the right place. With relief, I finally spotted a farmhouse ahead on my left. Trouble is, the little voice who lives inside my dashboard — Samantha, is it? — insisted I had arrived at my destination. But I couldn’t see any destination, just more lovely trees, and the farmhouse on the wrong side of the road.
I found a place to U-turn and went back, passing an unmarked driveway through the trees, and then another hidden by thick brush. But there it was on a post, the coveted number I was searching for. Samantha was right. Again.
Agapostemon virescens live throughout most of North America and are fond of flowers in the Asteraceae family. All photos in this post by Rusty Burlew.
A paradise of complexity
I inched my pickup beneath a canopy of trees until the drive stopped abruptly at a closed gate. As I parked, I considered my options for leaving. I could back into a treacherously fast country road with no visibility or circle about in a pasture. Worry later, I decided.
Within seconds, I was greeted by my host, Kay Crawford. Kay is a bright, lively, diligent beekeeper with a passion for gardening and pollinator protection. We began perusing the plantings right where we stood, then strolled through the gardens closest to the house. A virtual jungle of flowering species grew everywhere, alive with bees and other winged creatures, all of them buzzing, flitting, humming, and clicking.
The breadth and depth of the plantings, the variation in form, and the complexity of arrangement astounded me. The panoply of colors and layered aromas was pure sensory overload.
A paradise of complexity
I inched my pickup beneath a canopy of trees until the drive stopped abruptly at a closed gate. As I parked, I considered my options for leaving. I could back into a treacherously fast country road with no visibility or circle about in a pasture. Worry later, I decided.
Within seconds, I was greeted by my host, Kay Crawford. Kay is a bright, lively, diligent beekeeper with a passion for gardening and pollinator protection. We began perusing the plantings right where we stood, then strolled through the gardens closest to the house. A virtual jungle of flowering species grew everywhere, alive with bees and other winged creatures, all of them buzzing, flitting, humming, and clicking.
The breadth and depth of the plantings, the variation in form, and the complexity of arrangement astounded me. The panoply of colors and layered aromas was pure sensory overload.
I’ve spent years looking for a nest of Agapostemon bees and I finally found this one between the rows of Kay’s flowers. Several females were sharing the entrance hole, flying around and waiting for their turn to enter. Beneath the ground, each female builds her own nesting tunnels.
A buzzing, humming diorama
But nothing prepared me for what came next. Once we passed the house, the foliage of trees, shrubs, and plantings opened onto wide fields burdened with blossoms. The acreage sloped gently downhill, opening upon a vista of distant peaks snuggled tightly against the base of Mt. St. Helens in all her snow-topped glory.
Nothing on the road leading to the Bee Inspired Gardens hinted at what lay beyond the tree-choked driveway. And nothing about the footpath through the roadside gardens hinted at the vista beyond. It reminded me of a diorama. You peek into a tiny hole, expecting to see the inside of a box. Instead, you see another world, exotic and enchanting.
The barn, the honey house, and Kay’s bee house sit on the far side of her home. Beside the barn is the “Gabeebo” surrounded by its own pollinator garden and a handful of colorful top-bar hives. [See September’s “A Slovenian-style Apiary Overlooking a Mountain Top.”]
Woodland on the far side of the barn conceals a small stream that feeds into a pond. The pond, encircled by its own brand of trees and pollinator plants, provides a cavern-like coolness in contrast to the sunny, flower-bedecked slopes. I could have spent the entire day sitting on a stump and watching the water meander by.
A buzzing, humming diorama
But nothing prepared me for what came next. Once we passed the house, the foliage of trees, shrubs, and plantings opened onto wide fields burdened with blossoms. The acreage sloped gently downhill, opening upon a vista of distant peaks snuggled tightly against the base of Mt. St. Helens in all her snow-topped glory.
Nothing on the road leading to the Bee Inspired Gardens hinted at what lay beyond the tree-choked driveway. And nothing about the footpath through the roadside gardens hinted at the vista beyond. It reminded me of a diorama. You peek into a tiny hole, expecting to see the inside of a box. Instead, you see another world, exotic and enchanting.
The barn, the honey house, and Kay’s bee house sit on the far side of her home. Beside the barn is the “Gabeebo” surrounded by its own pollinator garden and a handful of colorful top-bar hives. [See September’s “A Slovenian-style Apiary Overlooking a Mountain Top.”]
Woodland on the far side of the barn conceals a small stream that feeds into a pond. The pond, encircled by its own brand of trees and pollinator plants, provides a cavern-like coolness in contrast to the sunny, flower-bedecked slopes. I could have spent the entire day sitting on a stump and watching the water meander by.
For those interested in bumble bee conservation, a bee garden with multiple deep flowers like this purple Phacelia will attract many bumbles.
Getting started as a beekeeper
Kay began to think about beekeeping in the winter of 2017. Like many beginners, she liked the idea of pollinating her gardens and harvesting a bit of honey. The following January, she enrolled in a beekeeping course taught by her local Lewis County Beekeepers Association.
After a lifetime of riding and being thrown from frisky horses, Kay decided Langstroth boxes would be too heavy for a retired equestrian with multiple injuries. Despite being encouraged to start with Langstroths, she opted for top-bar hives outfitted with a few personalized enhancements. By the fall of 2018, she added four AZ hives and a Slovenian-style bee house.
Getting started as a beekeeper
Kay began to think about beekeeping in the winter of 2017. Like many beginners, she liked the idea of pollinating her gardens and harvesting a bit of honey. The following January, she enrolled in a beekeeping course taught by her local Lewis County Beekeepers Association.
After a lifetime of riding and being thrown from frisky horses, Kay decided Langstroth boxes would be too heavy for a retired equestrian with multiple injuries. Despite being encouraged to start with Langstroths, she opted for top-bar hives outfitted with a few personalized enhancements. By the fall of 2018, she added four AZ hives and a Slovenian-style bee house.
This large red-legged Andrena prefers fruit trees and is probably just sunning herself on the daisy.
A hedgerow grant for pollinators
During that first year, Kay began looking for grant programs that might assist with beekeeping expenses. She discovered that the U.S. Department of Agriculture Natural Resources Conservation Service (USDA-NRCS) has a financial assistance program that encourages farmers to plant pollinator hedgerows around their fields.
The grant program administered by the Environmental Quality Incentives Program (EQIP) is open to applicants with a USDA-registered farm, and is designed to “enhance pollen, nectar, and nesting habitat for pollinators.” Funding is based on the length of the proposed hedgerow plantings and is paid incrementally after each step of the process is completed and inspected.
The grant is competitive. Funding priority is given to beginning farmers, limited resource farmers, socially disadvantaged farmers, and veterans. After winning a grant, the farmer has one year to begin the project and, once complete, he should maintain the hedgerow for a minimum of 15 years. Payments to the farmer are considered taxable income.
A hedgerow grant for pollinators
During that first year, Kay began looking for grant programs that might assist with beekeeping expenses. She discovered that the U.S. Department of Agriculture Natural Resources Conservation Service (USDA-NRCS) has a financial assistance program that encourages farmers to plant pollinator hedgerows around their fields.
The grant program administered by the Environmental Quality Incentives Program (EQIP) is open to applicants with a USDA-registered farm, and is designed to “enhance pollen, nectar, and nesting habitat for pollinators.” Funding is based on the length of the proposed hedgerow plantings and is paid incrementally after each step of the process is completed and inspected.
The grant is competitive. Funding priority is given to beginning farmers, limited resource farmers, socially disadvantaged farmers, and veterans. After winning a grant, the farmer has one year to begin the project and, once complete, he should maintain the hedgerow for a minimum of 15 years. Payments to the farmer are considered taxable income.
Bumble bees especially enjoy catmint.
A quick go-ahead from the government
Kay first contacted the NRCS on February 20, 2018. A local Resource Conservationist, Lisa Schuchman, with experience working with small farmers and pollinators, visited the site on March 26. Together, they wrote a plan and submitted the grant application by the May 4th deadline. By July 26, the contract was signed.
The proposed hedgerow bordered Kay’s hay fields and totaled 1793 linear feet. Ten different species of bare-root shrubs, each selected to increase the blooming season for pollinators, were chosen from a master list provided by NRCS.
After completing each step of the hedgerow establishment, the work faced inspection. Weed management, site preparation, native shrub planting, and more weed management consumed plenty of time and energy.
A quick go-ahead from the government
Kay first contacted the NRCS on February 20, 2018. A local Resource Conservationist, Lisa Schuchman, with experience working with small farmers and pollinators, visited the site on March 26. Together, they wrote a plan and submitted the grant application by the May 4th deadline. By July 26, the contract was signed.
The proposed hedgerow bordered Kay’s hay fields and totaled 1793 linear feet. Ten different species of bare-root shrubs, each selected to increase the blooming season for pollinators, were chosen from a master list provided by NRCS.
After completing each step of the hedgerow establishment, the work faced inspection. Weed management, site preparation, native shrub planting, and more weed management consumed plenty of time and energy.
California poppy attracts a wide variety of pollinators and lights up the garden with its sunny yellow blooms.
Those darn weeds
Between the fall of 2018 and the end of 2019, Kay hired a commercial spray company on three separate occasions to treat weeds. They left the soil in the planting area undisturbed so as not to expose buried seeds. Once the site preparation was complete, Kay was cleared to plant and ordered her bare-root shrubs from a company in Oregon.
In mid-February 2020, Kay and two helpers planted 1050 shrubs six feet apart, leaving plenty of room for mowing between them. The plantings were inspected upon completion and several times later to assure the weeds were kept in check.
Those darn weeds
Between the fall of 2018 and the end of 2019, Kay hired a commercial spray company on three separate occasions to treat weeds. They left the soil in the planting area undisturbed so as not to expose buried seeds. Once the site preparation was complete, Kay was cleared to plant and ordered her bare-root shrubs from a company in Oregon.
In mid-February 2020, Kay and two helpers planted 1050 shrubs six feet apart, leaving plenty of room for mowing between them. The plantings were inspected upon completion and several times later to assure the weeds were kept in check.
The flowers were so dense that I couldn’t see the ground beneath them. But I could hear things going on down there, scritching in the soil, romantic tussles, and neighborly disagreements.
Of weeds and shrubs
Kay says, “In hindsight, I underestimated the time it would take to keep the grass and weeds mowed between the small shrubs. With all the rain we get during our Pacific Northwest winters, you can practically watch the weeds grow and they can quickly overtake the new plantings.
“For the last two springs, it has taken me seven hours every week to mow between the plants on a big 53-inch deck riding mower. In addition, the unusual summer heat and drought we have experienced in the last two years have taken their toll on the plants because they are not irrigated.
“Finally, this year, the plants are growing taller than the weeds and are spreading, which is gratifying. One more year of mowing and they should begin to shade out the weeds. Then they are on their own!”
The 1050 native shrubs included 100 buckbrush (Ceanothus cuneatus), 100 red stem ceanothus (Ceanothus sanguineum), 200 ocean spray (Holodiscus discolor), 100 Indian plum (Oemleria cerasiformis), 100 golden currant (Ribes aureum) 100 blue elderberry (Sambucus cerulean), 200 Nootka rose (Rosa nutkana), 100 serviceberry (Amelanchier alnifolia), and 50 Sitka willow (Salix sitchensis).
Of weeds and shrubs
Kay says, “In hindsight, I underestimated the time it would take to keep the grass and weeds mowed between the small shrubs. With all the rain we get during our Pacific Northwest winters, you can practically watch the weeds grow and they can quickly overtake the new plantings.
“For the last two springs, it has taken me seven hours every week to mow between the plants on a big 53-inch deck riding mower. In addition, the unusual summer heat and drought we have experienced in the last two years have taken their toll on the plants because they are not irrigated.
“Finally, this year, the plants are growing taller than the weeds and are spreading, which is gratifying. One more year of mowing and they should begin to shade out the weeds. Then they are on their own!”
The 1050 native shrubs included 100 buckbrush (Ceanothus cuneatus), 100 red stem ceanothus (Ceanothus sanguineum), 200 ocean spray (Holodiscus discolor), 100 Indian plum (Oemleria cerasiformis), 100 golden currant (Ribes aureum) 100 blue elderberry (Sambucus cerulean), 200 Nootka rose (Rosa nutkana), 100 serviceberry (Amelanchier alnifolia), and 50 Sitka willow (Salix sitchensis).
As dense as these plantings were, many blooms contained multiple bees, and some hosted flower flies, butterflies, and beetles. Here, a hover fly joins two honey bees for the feast.
More than just a hedgerow
The Bee Inspired Garden contains more than just the hedgerows. Kay planted an impressive array of flowers even before the site preparation for the hedgerows was complete.
In the fall of 2019, she seeded 28,733 square feet of white Dutch clover, 4410 square feet of Canada goldenrod, 9534 square feet of crimson clover, 13,230 square feet of lacy phacelia, 3822 square feet of California poppy, 2940 square feet of blanket flower, 7920 square feet of sanfoin, 4410 square feet of Oregon sunshine, a 150-foot row of bread seed poppy, and a 210-foot row of Joe Pye weed. In addition, 15 little-leaf linden trees (Tilia cordata) and 5 sourwoods (Oxydendrum arboretum) rounded out the first year.
More than just a hedgerow
The Bee Inspired Garden contains more than just the hedgerows. Kay planted an impressive array of flowers even before the site preparation for the hedgerows was complete.
In the fall of 2019, she seeded 28,733 square feet of white Dutch clover, 4410 square feet of Canada goldenrod, 9534 square feet of crimson clover, 13,230 square feet of lacy phacelia, 3822 square feet of California poppy, 2940 square feet of blanket flower, 7920 square feet of sanfoin, 4410 square feet of Oregon sunshine, a 150-foot row of bread seed poppy, and a 210-foot row of Joe Pye weed. In addition, 15 little-leaf linden trees (Tilia cordata) and 5 sourwoods (Oxydendrum arboretum) rounded out the first year.
The Gabeebo sits close to the beehives in a pollinator garden. Because Kay covered the structure with fine mesh, visitors who might otherwise fear bees can sit in the structure and safely view the action.
Not everything thrived
Many of the fall seeds failed to bloom the first year. Undaunted, in the spring of 2020, Kay over-seeded some areas with crimson and white Dutch clover. She also tried bachelor buttons, larkspur, rudbeckia, and more California poppy.
Next, she added a selection of transplanted and potted plants around the Gabeebo. Those included peonies, Joe Pye weed, dahlia, lavender, wild foxglove, sedum, scabiosa, veronica speedwell, aster, and lavender. Down the hill from the Gabeebo, she planted 20 more sourwood and 10 seven sons trees.
Once again, many plants failed, but Kay replaced those with others, always striving for the right plant in the right place. Although it was an incredible amount of work, the results are impressive.
In the spring of 2022, she augmented the plantings with 355 assorted spring bulbs, 567 more perennials, 1270 row feet and 46,350 square feet of flowering seeds, including 4200 square feet of Great Basin honey bee mix, and more flowering shrubs. In December of that year, she planted 210 row feet of rose campion, 2400 square feet of purple coneflower, and 840 square feet of bread seed poppies. For good measure, she threw in 840 more spring bulbs.
Not everything thrived
Many of the fall seeds failed to bloom the first year. Undaunted, in the spring of 2020, Kay over-seeded some areas with crimson and white Dutch clover. She also tried bachelor buttons, larkspur, rudbeckia, and more California poppy.
Next, she added a selection of transplanted and potted plants around the Gabeebo. Those included peonies, Joe Pye weed, dahlia, lavender, wild foxglove, sedum, scabiosa, veronica speedwell, aster, and lavender. Down the hill from the Gabeebo, she planted 20 more sourwood and 10 seven sons trees.
Once again, many plants failed, but Kay replaced those with others, always striving for the right plant in the right place. Although it was an incredible amount of work, the results are impressive.
In the spring of 2022, she augmented the plantings with 355 assorted spring bulbs, 567 more perennials, 1270 row feet and 46,350 square feet of flowering seeds, including 4200 square feet of Great Basin honey bee mix, and more flowering shrubs. In December of that year, she planted 210 row feet of rose campion, 2400 square feet of purple coneflower, and 840 square feet of bread seed poppies. For good measure, she threw in 840 more spring bulbs.
I love watching honey bees forage on poppy. They shake, quiver, and climb over each other in a panic to collect the bountiful gray pollen.
Failing is part of the process
Trying to find the perfect plants for our local environment is tricky. We have a rainy season that lasts most of nine months, October through June. The latitude, which is close to 50 degrees North, exacerbates the dark and damp, making the winter nothing but soggy. The three months of summer — July, August, and September — are hot and arid, without a hint of rain. Finding plants that can deal with such a stark contrast is tough, especially on non-irrigated farmland.
The constant trying and failing is part of that process because even the plants that “should” make it here can fail. A good example is the phacelia. Kay’s has failed three times, whereas when I spread a few seeds around, I can’t get rid of the stuff for years. That’s just the way of the Pacific Northwest coast.
Each time I toured the gardens in spring and early summer, Kay was busy weeding and mowing, philosophically making plans for the next round.
Failing is part of the process
Trying to find the perfect plants for our local environment is tricky. We have a rainy season that lasts most of nine months, October through June. The latitude, which is close to 50 degrees North, exacerbates the dark and damp, making the winter nothing but soggy. The three months of summer — July, August, and September — are hot and arid, without a hint of rain. Finding plants that can deal with such a stark contrast is tough, especially on non-irrigated farmland.
The constant trying and failing is part of that process because even the plants that “should” make it here can fail. A good example is the phacelia. Kay’s has failed three times, whereas when I spread a few seeds around, I can’t get rid of the stuff for years. That’s just the way of the Pacific Northwest coast.
Each time I toured the gardens in spring and early summer, Kay was busy weeding and mowing, philosophically making plans for the next round.
The Nomada bees are kleptoparasites on other bees. A selection of kleptoparasitic bees is a sign of a healthy and diverse bee population.
The purpose of Bee Inspired Gardens
If the sole purpose of the Bee Inspired Gardens was to take your breath away, it would be a rousing success. But it is so much more.
The larger purpose is to create a space for environmental education, a place where the public and volunteers can become involved in learning about and developing sustainable forage for pollinators. The gardens provide hands-on learning experiences for teachers and students about the importance of pollinators and the challenges they face.
The demonstration habitat includes pollinator hedgerows, wetlands, cover crops, annual wildflower beds, and herb and perennial gardens. All of these features increase safe forage, the number of nesting sites, and the length of the blooming season.
Above all else, Kay hopes her visitors return home and create their own pollinator gardens and consider the fascinating hobby of beekeeping. And if you are fortunate enough to visit the Bee Inspired Garden, just circle through the pasture when you’re ready to leave.
Rusty
Honey Bee Suite
The purpose of Bee Inspired Gardens
If the sole purpose of the Bee Inspired Gardens was to take your breath away, it would be a rousing success. But it is so much more.
The larger purpose is to create a space for environmental education, a place where the public and volunteers can become involved in learning about and developing sustainable forage for pollinators. The gardens provide hands-on learning experiences for teachers and students about the importance of pollinators and the challenges they face.
The demonstration habitat includes pollinator hedgerows, wetlands, cover crops, annual wildflower beds, and herb and perennial gardens. All of these features increase safe forage, the number of nesting sites, and the length of the blooming season.
Above all else, Kay hopes her visitors return home and create their own pollinator gardens and consider the fascinating hobby of beekeeping. And if you are fortunate enough to visit the Bee Inspired Garden, just circle through the pasture when you’re ready to leave.
Rusty
Honey Bee Suite
The segregation of bee species amazed me. Each species chooses the plants it likes best, often with little crossover. It was a graphic reminder of why a diversity of plants is the gold standard for a healthy pollinator garden.
About Me
My love of bee science is backed by a bachelor’s degree in Agronomic Crops and a master’s in Environmental Studies. In addition to writing and maintaining Honey Bee Suite, I am director of the Native Bee Conservancy, a non-profit organization dedicated to education about wild pollinators. I also write articles for various bee publications including American Bee Journal, Bee Craft (the Journal of the British Beekeepers Association), 2 Million Blossoms, Bee Culture, IBRA’s Bee World, Countryside and Small Stock Journal, The Serbian Beekeeper, The New Zealand Beekeeper, and An Beachaire (The Irish Beekeeper). My list of recently published articles is here. In addition, I frequently speak to groups about bees and other pollinators. In recent years, I’ve taken multiple courses in melittology and made extensive identifications of North American bees for iNaturalist. My master beekeeping certificate issued from U Montana. More here.
About Me
My love of bee science is backed by a bachelor’s degree in Agronomic Crops and a master’s in Environmental Studies. In addition to writing and maintaining Honey Bee Suite, I am director of the Native Bee Conservancy, a non-profit organization dedicated to education about wild pollinators. I also write articles for various bee publications including American Bee Journal, Bee Craft (the Journal of the British Beekeepers Association), 2 Million Blossoms, Bee Culture, IBRA’s Bee World, Countryside and Small Stock Journal, The Serbian Beekeeper, The New Zealand Beekeeper, and An Beachaire (The Irish Beekeeper). My list of recently published articles is here. In addition, I frequently speak to groups about bees and other pollinators. In recent years, I’ve taken multiple courses in melittology and made extensive identifications of North American bees for iNaturalist. My master beekeeping certificate issued from U Montana. More here.
A-Ž hives in a Slovenian-style apiary: awesome yet practical
by Rusty Burlew
This article first appeared in American Bee Journal, Volume 162 No. 9, September 2022, pp 1019-1023.
by Rusty Burlew
This article first appeared in American Bee Journal, Volume 162 No. 9, September 2022, pp 1019-1023.
Everything about AZ hives is meant to make life easier for the bees and the beekeeper. Plus, they are beautiful!
A Slovenian-style apiary is a magical place where art, nature, beekeeping, and practicality coalesce into a pollinator haven. Overlooking Mount St. Helens in sleepy Onalaska, Washington, artist and entrepreneur Kay Crawford and her husband, Robbie, created an idyllic kingdom. Here, honey bees and dozens of native species commingle among acres of flowers and enjoy a reprieve from pesticides and other perils of civilization. For us humans, it provides a covert shrine of tranquility enhanced by the hypnotic hum of bees.
In addition to the Slovenian hives, Kay has added top bar hives and a specially-designed fully screened “gabeebo.” Inside, visitors can experience an up-close but undisturbed view of honey bees doing their thing. Under wide blue skies and the snowy tufts of the mountain, viewers can sip their iced tea and watch nature at its finest.
Central to the Slovenian concept of bee-centric beekeeping is the A-Ž hive, an invention that makes beekeeping a more pleasant, less traumatic experience for both the bees and the keepers. Although the Slovenian beekeeping landscape remains dominated by these traditional hives, they are less common elsewhere. But seeing the hives in action could easily change your mind.
A Slovenian-style apiary is a magical place where art, nature, beekeeping, and practicality coalesce into a pollinator haven. Overlooking Mount St. Helens in sleepy Onalaska, Washington, artist and entrepreneur Kay Crawford and her husband, Robbie, created an idyllic kingdom. Here, honey bees and dozens of native species commingle among acres of flowers and enjoy a reprieve from pesticides and other perils of civilization. For us humans, it provides a covert shrine of tranquility enhanced by the hypnotic hum of bees.
In addition to the Slovenian hives, Kay has added top bar hives and a specially-designed fully screened “gabeebo.” Inside, visitors can experience an up-close but undisturbed view of honey bees doing their thing. Under wide blue skies and the snowy tufts of the mountain, viewers can sip their iced tea and watch nature at its finest.
Central to the Slovenian concept of bee-centric beekeeping is the A-Ž hive, an invention that makes beekeeping a more pleasant, less traumatic experience for both the bees and the keepers. Although the Slovenian beekeeping landscape remains dominated by these traditional hives, they are less common elsewhere. But seeing the hives in action could easily change your mind.
A-Ž hive in the bee house: This three-deep hive is opened into the interior of the bee house. Each of the doors is screened and can be kept closed while the beekeeper is working on a different box. The bees access the feeder from underneath, and the varroa board is under the bottom box. Before the beekeeper leaves, he replaces the screen doors and closes the large outer door over the bees. Photo by Kay Crawford.
The Slovenian A-Ž hive
A Slovenian industrialist with a passion for beekeeping designed the A-Ž hive. While skep hives were still popular in many parts of Europe, Anton Žnideršič (1874-1947) had seen the modern, newly developed Langstroth hives and admired their practicality. However, like many locals, he mourned the loss of the traditional bee house, a trademark of Slovenian rural culture.
Using his innate ingenuity, Žnideršič united features of both the Langstroth and the traditional bee house into another option for beekeepers. His first design followed the introduction of the Langstroth by just ten years. And in Slovenia, the A-Ž hive became an instant hit.
The A-Ž hive incorporates moveable frames, stacked boxes, and wired foundation, all things Žnideršič thought were worthy improvements to traditional hives. But he set out to correct what he perceived as shortcomings in the Langstroth, including the necessity of heaving heavy boxes. He also wanted to reduce propolis buildup on the frames, which often made moving frames unnecessarily difficult.
The Slovenian A-Ž hive
A Slovenian industrialist with a passion for beekeeping designed the A-Ž hive. While skep hives were still popular in many parts of Europe, Anton Žnideršič (1874-1947) had seen the modern, newly developed Langstroth hives and admired their practicality. However, like many locals, he mourned the loss of the traditional bee house, a trademark of Slovenian rural culture.
Using his innate ingenuity, Žnideršič united features of both the Langstroth and the traditional bee house into another option for beekeepers. His first design followed the introduction of the Langstroth by just ten years. And in Slovenia, the A-Ž hive became an instant hit.
The A-Ž hive incorporates moveable frames, stacked boxes, and wired foundation, all things Žnideršič thought were worthy improvements to traditional hives. But he set out to correct what he perceived as shortcomings in the Langstroth, including the necessity of heaving heavy boxes. He also wanted to reduce propolis buildup on the frames, which often made moving frames unnecessarily difficult.
Bee house interior: Four complete hives sit on the tables. The small upper window opens at the top for bees to fly out. Kay prefers not to use smoke in the small room and steps through the sliding glass door into her darkened adjacent honey house until any overly aggressive guard bees fly out the exit window. Photo by Kay Crawford.
The Slovenian bee house
The bee house is the centerpiece of a Slovenian apiary, so a true A-Ž hive is never freestanding. All the individual hives fit permanently into the bee house, side-by-side, and are tended from inside the structure. The beekeeper accesses the hives from openings in the back of each bee box, never from the top.
This unique configuration means the beekeeper need not lift supers or brood boxes. Inspecting, treating, and harvesting can be done by sliding the frames horizontally in and out of the boxes, like taking a book from a shelf. Since each hive sits near the next, the beekeeper needs only to walk the length of the bee house to work many hives. The system is unparalleled in efficiency.
The original A-Ž hives had one brood box and one honey super. But as large colony sizes became popular, beekeepers began adding a second honey super to the stack, an alteration that soon became commonplace. In most American versions, the boxes and frames are all one size regardless of their purpose.
The Slovenian bee house
The bee house is the centerpiece of a Slovenian apiary, so a true A-Ž hive is never freestanding. All the individual hives fit permanently into the bee house, side-by-side, and are tended from inside the structure. The beekeeper accesses the hives from openings in the back of each bee box, never from the top.
This unique configuration means the beekeeper need not lift supers or brood boxes. Inspecting, treating, and harvesting can be done by sliding the frames horizontally in and out of the boxes, like taking a book from a shelf. Since each hive sits near the next, the beekeeper needs only to walk the length of the bee house to work many hives. The system is unparalleled in efficiency.
The original A-Ž hives had one brood box and one honey super. But as large colony sizes became popular, beekeepers began adding a second honey super to the stack, an alteration that soon became commonplace. In most American versions, the boxes and frames are all one size regardless of their purpose.
Chest freezer: Kay uses a large chest freezer with a corrugated plastic cover as a workspace. The back observation window (at right) opens into the barn providing cool airflow and allowing visitors to watch Kay work the bees without being disturbed by them. Photo by Kay Crawford.
Bee houses on wheels
Originally, all bee houses were stationary structures and many remain so. But today, A-Ž hives are often built into a rolling bee house, such as a truck, van, or bus that can be driven to new locations as crops go in and out of bloom. A rolling bee house eliminates the need for pallets, tie-downs, forklifts, and heavy lifting. The beekeeper merely locks up the bees in the evening, attaches his tow bar, and drives away the next morning.
Since the beekeeper tends his colonies within the structure, both the keeper and the bees are protected from rain, snow, wind, and extreme temperatures. If the interior is well-designed, even the need for a bee suit is minimal. Any bees that wander out of the hive fly out of the building through an open window toward the sunlight and re-enter the hive from the front.
Bee houses on wheels
Originally, all bee houses were stationary structures and many remain so. But today, A-Ž hives are often built into a rolling bee house, such as a truck, van, or bus that can be driven to new locations as crops go in and out of bloom. A rolling bee house eliminates the need for pallets, tie-downs, forklifts, and heavy lifting. The beekeeper merely locks up the bees in the evening, attaches his tow bar, and drives away the next morning.
Since the beekeeper tends his colonies within the structure, both the keeper and the bees are protected from rain, snow, wind, and extreme temperatures. If the interior is well-designed, even the need for a bee suit is minimal. Any bees that wander out of the hive fly out of the building through an open window toward the sunlight and re-enter the hive from the front.
Honey house: The honey house, which can be heated for honey processing, is closed off from the bees but is easily accessed through the sliding door. The door at the far end of the bee house leads outside. Photo by Kay Crawford.
Other bee house advantages
Maintaining a compact set of A-Ž hives is easier than maintaining an equal number of freestanding hives. For example, only one side of each hive needs to be painted because the other five sides are protected by the bee house. And because the bee house protects the hives from the elements, damage from rain, freezing temperatures, wind, sun exposure, insects, and birds is minimal.
Bee houses also discourage bear rampages because bears cannot topple the hives to break them apart. Although bears can still inflict damage, a bear is less likely to trash everything as it would in a standard apiary. Smaller mammals, such as skunks, raccoons, and opossums, also have trouble accessing the elevated, smooth-faced bank of hives.
Inside features
Inside the bee house, the side-by-side colonies share heat in the winter. Outside, the closely stacked hives can be intimidating. The sheer number of bees attending the hive fronts can be off-putting to intruders of any sort, from insects to mammals.
Because the beekeeper tends the hives from the back in a relatively dark space, the disturbance to the colony is minimal. Unlike cracking open a hive from the top and admitting a cascade of sunlight, opening the back in a quiet, shaded space is less intrusive. The bees go about their business without the violation and fear of a suddenly missing roof.
Kay and Robbie fully enclosed and insulated their bee house, then installed half-inch PEX (cross-linked polyethylene) flexible tubing through the front wall for bee access. Kay explained that, due to their small size, the tubes have prevented mice, yellowjackets, and robbing honey bees from entering the hives. The small openings will also deter Washington’s “murder hornets,” should they become a problem. To keep the tubes clear in winter, Kay reams them with a small bottle brush attached to a metal rod. As temperatures drop in late fall, she stops some of the tubes with half-inch corks.
Other bee house advantages
Maintaining a compact set of A-Ž hives is easier than maintaining an equal number of freestanding hives. For example, only one side of each hive needs to be painted because the other five sides are protected by the bee house. And because the bee house protects the hives from the elements, damage from rain, freezing temperatures, wind, sun exposure, insects, and birds is minimal.
Bee houses also discourage bear rampages because bears cannot topple the hives to break them apart. Although bears can still inflict damage, a bear is less likely to trash everything as it would in a standard apiary. Smaller mammals, such as skunks, raccoons, and opossums, also have trouble accessing the elevated, smooth-faced bank of hives.
Inside features
Inside the bee house, the side-by-side colonies share heat in the winter. Outside, the closely stacked hives can be intimidating. The sheer number of bees attending the hive fronts can be off-putting to intruders of any sort, from insects to mammals.
Because the beekeeper tends the hives from the back in a relatively dark space, the disturbance to the colony is minimal. Unlike cracking open a hive from the top and admitting a cascade of sunlight, opening the back in a quiet, shaded space is less intrusive. The bees go about their business without the violation and fear of a suddenly missing roof.
Kay and Robbie fully enclosed and insulated their bee house, then installed half-inch PEX (cross-linked polyethylene) flexible tubing through the front wall for bee access. Kay explained that, due to their small size, the tubes have prevented mice, yellowjackets, and robbing honey bees from entering the hives. The small openings will also deter Washington’s “murder hornets,” should they become a problem. To keep the tubes clear in winter, Kay reams them with a small bottle brush attached to a metal rod. As temperatures drop in late fall, she stops some of the tubes with half-inch corks.
Top bar hives: Three top bar hives round out Kay’s apiary. In the background, a Langstroth box with modified A-Ž frames is ready for housing swarms. Photo by Rusty Burlew.
Anything possible, nothing stuck together
Each of the features within an A-Ž hive makes beekeeping from the back of the hive a viable alternative to the Langstroth. I sometimes hear beekeepers complain about all the “fiddly little parts” of an A-Ž hive, but each piece has a specific function. Taken together, they allow the beekeeper freedom from lifting, carrying, prying, and working in direct sun.
The frames in an A-Ž hive are rectangular with no “ears” for hanging. Instead, the frames slide in and out of the bee boxes guided by metal spacers at the front and back of each box. The weight of the frames rests on parallel metal rods that run the width of each box.
The cut and construction of the frames allow them to work seamlessly with the metal spacers and support rods. Both the top and bottom bars of each frame have a channel running along the length. Viewed from either end, the channel is U-shaped, meaning only narrow ridges of wood rest on the metal rods. The sidebars are cut to match the top and bottom channels, allowing the U-shaped channel to run the entire length of each frame.
Minimum propolis buildup
Since the area where the frame ridges meet the metal support rods is quite small, propolis accumulation is minimal. And since the frames lack ears and are optimally spaced, propolis does not glue the frames to the box or to each other. With only minor amounts of bee glue, the beekeeper doesn’t have to crack the frames apart with a hive tool and brute force. They release with just a small tug.
The frames, which are all the same size, can be wired for wax foundation just as in a Langstroth. Because they are larger than standard deeps, the frames require an extra piece of foundation to fully cover the space. But many of the more recent designs are sized to match a Langstroth deep. This convenient modification also allows the use of a standard extractor.
All types of equipment can be made to work inside an A-Ž hive. Additions such as queen excluders, feeders, mite treatments, and observation windows can be added according to beekeeper preference. Special frames can be built for the mite treatment of your choice. The possibilities are limited only by your imagination.
Anything possible, nothing stuck together
Each of the features within an A-Ž hive makes beekeeping from the back of the hive a viable alternative to the Langstroth. I sometimes hear beekeepers complain about all the “fiddly little parts” of an A-Ž hive, but each piece has a specific function. Taken together, they allow the beekeeper freedom from lifting, carrying, prying, and working in direct sun.
The frames in an A-Ž hive are rectangular with no “ears” for hanging. Instead, the frames slide in and out of the bee boxes guided by metal spacers at the front and back of each box. The weight of the frames rests on parallel metal rods that run the width of each box.
The cut and construction of the frames allow them to work seamlessly with the metal spacers and support rods. Both the top and bottom bars of each frame have a channel running along the length. Viewed from either end, the channel is U-shaped, meaning only narrow ridges of wood rest on the metal rods. The sidebars are cut to match the top and bottom channels, allowing the U-shaped channel to run the entire length of each frame.
Minimum propolis buildup
Since the area where the frame ridges meet the metal support rods is quite small, propolis accumulation is minimal. And since the frames lack ears and are optimally spaced, propolis does not glue the frames to the box or to each other. With only minor amounts of bee glue, the beekeeper doesn’t have to crack the frames apart with a hive tool and brute force. They release with just a small tug.
The frames, which are all the same size, can be wired for wax foundation just as in a Langstroth. Because they are larger than standard deeps, the frames require an extra piece of foundation to fully cover the space. But many of the more recent designs are sized to match a Langstroth deep. This convenient modification also allows the use of a standard extractor.
All types of equipment can be made to work inside an A-Ž hive. Additions such as queen excluders, feeders, mite treatments, and observation windows can be added according to beekeeper preference. Special frames can be built for the mite treatment of your choice. The possibilities are limited only by your imagination.
Frame ends: The sidebars of each frame match the U-shaped channels of the top and bottom bars. This makes sliding the frames in and out of the boxes easier and lessens propolis accumulation. Photo by Kay Crawford.
Special beekeeping tools
Although A-Ž beekeeping requires few tools other than a hive tool and perhaps a smoker, a few specialty items make the job easier. In his book on Slovenian beekeeping, Janko Božič recommends a comb stand to hold frames during inspections or harvesting.1 Specially designed for frames without ears, the frames rest on three points between comb guides.
A hive table is a platform that can be attached to the back of the hive during inspections. Any bees that fall from a frame land on the table and stroll back into the hive.
In addition, the hive cleaner is something we all could use. It is a narrow piece of metal attached at a ninety-degree angle to a long handle. It allows the beekeeper to scrape debris, errant pollen balls, and dead bees from the bottom board.
Special beekeeping tools
Although A-Ž beekeeping requires few tools other than a hive tool and perhaps a smoker, a few specialty items make the job easier. In his book on Slovenian beekeeping, Janko Božič recommends a comb stand to hold frames during inspections or harvesting.1 Specially designed for frames without ears, the frames rest on three points between comb guides.
A hive table is a platform that can be attached to the back of the hive during inspections. Any bees that fall from a frame land on the table and stroll back into the hive.
In addition, the hive cleaner is something we all could use. It is a narrow piece of metal attached at a ninety-degree angle to a long handle. It allows the beekeeper to scrape debris, errant pollen balls, and dead bees from the bottom board.
Gazebo: The screened gabeebo keeps out insects of all sorts; a perfect place for sipping iced tea on a hot day. Photo by Kay Crawford.
Traditional artwork
Stunning, colorful artwork is the hallmark of traditional Slovenian hives. The bright colors and bold designs serve not only to adorn the building but to provide navigational cues to the residents. Because the colonies live close to each other, recognizable patterns help the bees navigate to the proper address.
According to Vida Koželj at the Museum of Slovenian Folk Art, eighteenth-century itinerant artists created some of the first painted panels.2,3 They were often young men who traveled the countryside, offering their services in return for a bed and a meal. Each wooden panel could depict a single scene or it might connect with adjacent panels to form a mural.
Since many of the rural denizens could not read or write, the painted boards told visual stories. The art often depicted tales from the bible, rural life, animal husbandry, domestic chores, family strife, hunting, cartoon characters, or cultural traditions.
One panel at the museum portrays a disabled man walking with a sturdy cane. In his bent posture, the man collides with a bee colony hanging from a tree. The combs cascade to the ground, enveloping the man in angry bees and causing him to lose his cane. In the third scene, the man struggles to flee as the bees attack. In the fourth scene, the man, having absorbed a large dose of venom, is upright and running normally, cured by accidental apitherapy.
Traditional artwork
Stunning, colorful artwork is the hallmark of traditional Slovenian hives. The bright colors and bold designs serve not only to adorn the building but to provide navigational cues to the residents. Because the colonies live close to each other, recognizable patterns help the bees navigate to the proper address.
According to Vida Koželj at the Museum of Slovenian Folk Art, eighteenth-century itinerant artists created some of the first painted panels.2,3 They were often young men who traveled the countryside, offering their services in return for a bed and a meal. Each wooden panel could depict a single scene or it might connect with adjacent panels to form a mural.
Since many of the rural denizens could not read or write, the painted boards told visual stories. The art often depicted tales from the bible, rural life, animal husbandry, domestic chores, family strife, hunting, cartoon characters, or cultural traditions.
One panel at the museum portrays a disabled man walking with a sturdy cane. In his bent posture, the man collides with a bee colony hanging from a tree. The combs cascade to the ground, enveloping the man in angry bees and causing him to lose his cane. In the third scene, the man struggles to flee as the bees attack. In the fourth scene, the man, having absorbed a large dose of venom, is upright and running normally, cured by accidental apitherapy.
Outside of the bee house: Outside, the bees come and go through narrow tubes above small landing boards. Kay designed and painted the mural herself. Photo by Rusty Burlew.
Endless variations are possible
I was impressed by Kay and Robbie’s apiary. Their bee house built into the side of a barn and adjacent to their honey house is a clean, efficient, well-planned operation. When Kay opened the hives from the back, I could see the bees through the removable screen doors, seemingly unperturbed by our presence. Outside, bees bustled into a vista of bee-friendly plantings in the lovingly tended Bee Inspired Garden.4
Like most beekeepers, Kay has a list of things she might have done differently. But each A-Ž apiary is as different as the beekeepers who manage them, and that is part of the fun. To me, Kay’s apiary seemed just about perfect.
Notes and References
Endless variations are possible
I was impressed by Kay and Robbie’s apiary. Their bee house built into the side of a barn and adjacent to their honey house is a clean, efficient, well-planned operation. When Kay opened the hives from the back, I could see the bees through the removable screen doors, seemingly unperturbed by our presence. Outside, bees bustled into a vista of bee-friendly plantings in the lovingly tended Bee Inspired Garden.4
Like most beekeepers, Kay has a list of things she might have done differently. But each A-Ž apiary is as different as the beekeepers who manage them, and that is part of the fun. To me, Kay’s apiary seemed just about perfect.
Notes and References
- Božič, J. 2017. A-Ž Beekeeping with the Slovenian Hive. 2017. Kranj, Slovenia. Published by Založba Mija.
- Pier, M. 2018. Painted Beehives: A Slovenian Tradition that Tells of Cultural Landscape. https://www.peopleareculture.com/painted-beehives/ Accessed June 27, 2022.
- The Museum of Slovenian Folk Art resides in Smarje Sap, a town in central Slovenia.
- See Kay’s Bee Inspired Garden at www.BeeInspiredGarden.com.
Bee house & gabeebo: Robbie tucked the bee house and honey house beneath the barn roof. From the gabeebo visitors can watch the bees in safety. Photo by Rusty Burlew.
Rusty
Honey Bee Suite
Rusty
Honey Bee Suite
Oregon Sunshine: shine a light on your pollinators
by Rusty Burlew
by Rusty Burlew
Washington skies were gray and drizzled when I first alighted at the Bee Inspired Garden in Onalaska last week. Bundled in multiple sweatshirts, I figured I had a zero chance of spotting bees, so I left my camera in the pickup.
This spectacular pollinator haven deserves a closer look, but today I want to fulminate over a particular plant. I’ve seen Oregon sunshine before, but mostly in small patches tucked between sharp rocks, nestled on coastal cliffs, or glowing in deserty outcrops. But this patch was anything but modest, covering over 4400 square feet in a golden sheen.
The name Oregon sunshine is apt. If you’re not familiar with the coastal Pacific Northwest, trust me when I say it is dank, dark, and drear most of the time. But patches of this perky composite with its saffron blooms and silver-gray leaves illuminate the landscape like LED lamps.
Pollinator patrol
After a brief walking tour of the grounds and plantings, my host, Kay Crawford, turned me loose to explore and photograph. I fetched my camera somewhat reluctantly because I had seen few bees under the threatening skies. But as the earth warmed, Kay’s honey bees tentatively ventured from their abodes while brave bumbles slotted themselves into the foxgloves. Never say never.
I dawdled amongst the hives for a while, then wandered down to the beckoning yellow patch. Holy moly! In less than twenty minutes, everything had changed. I never saw so many natives in one place. Every bloom, thousands of them, had at least one bee, and many had multiples. Bees tussled over some flowers, as in “I was here first!” and shared the others. Big bees, bitty bees, and beastly bees frolicked in the blooms, rolling among the petals and packing pollen.
This spectacular pollinator haven deserves a closer look, but today I want to fulminate over a particular plant. I’ve seen Oregon sunshine before, but mostly in small patches tucked between sharp rocks, nestled on coastal cliffs, or glowing in deserty outcrops. But this patch was anything but modest, covering over 4400 square feet in a golden sheen.
The name Oregon sunshine is apt. If you’re not familiar with the coastal Pacific Northwest, trust me when I say it is dank, dark, and drear most of the time. But patches of this perky composite with its saffron blooms and silver-gray leaves illuminate the landscape like LED lamps.
Pollinator patrol
After a brief walking tour of the grounds and plantings, my host, Kay Crawford, turned me loose to explore and photograph. I fetched my camera somewhat reluctantly because I had seen few bees under the threatening skies. But as the earth warmed, Kay’s honey bees tentatively ventured from their abodes while brave bumbles slotted themselves into the foxgloves. Never say never.
I dawdled amongst the hives for a while, then wandered down to the beckoning yellow patch. Holy moly! In less than twenty minutes, everything had changed. I never saw so many natives in one place. Every bloom, thousands of them, had at least one bee, and many had multiples. Bees tussled over some flowers, as in “I was here first!” and shared the others. Big bees, bitty bees, and beastly bees frolicked in the blooms, rolling among the petals and packing pollen.
A magnificent assortment of both wild bees and honey bees appeared as soon as the day warmed.
No beeless blooms
Despite the sheer number of pollinators, photographs were tough. The wind whipped across the landscape, thrashing the flowers like a stand of midwestern wheat. Gusts of wind accompanied by intermittent drizzle are not “pollinator-friendly,” but the bees remained, as enthralled with this display as I was. They held tight while swaying and packing.
Near the Oregon sunshine, about four feet away, was a patch of fully flowered catmint. The catmint was purple and noisy, hosting a selection of bumbles and a scattering of flower flies. As I walked between the two plantings, I noticed a conspicuous segregation of bee species.
To my left, a variety of bumble bees bounced loudly among the catmint blooms. To my right, the Oregon sunshine shimmered with short-tongued species, including halictids and andrenids, and many cuckoo bees in the genus Nomada. The contrast in species was a valuable reminder of why a selection of plant types is the gold standard for pollinator gardens. Different plants attract different bees, and no single plant is good for all bees.
No beeless blooms
Despite the sheer number of pollinators, photographs were tough. The wind whipped across the landscape, thrashing the flowers like a stand of midwestern wheat. Gusts of wind accompanied by intermittent drizzle are not “pollinator-friendly,” but the bees remained, as enthralled with this display as I was. They held tight while swaying and packing.
Near the Oregon sunshine, about four feet away, was a patch of fully flowered catmint. The catmint was purple and noisy, hosting a selection of bumbles and a scattering of flower flies. As I walked between the two plantings, I noticed a conspicuous segregation of bee species.
To my left, a variety of bumble bees bounced loudly among the catmint blooms. To my right, the Oregon sunshine shimmered with short-tongued species, including halictids and andrenids, and many cuckoo bees in the genus Nomada. The contrast in species was a valuable reminder of why a selection of plant types is the gold standard for pollinator gardens. Different plants attract different bees, and no single plant is good for all bees.
Many ground-dwelling bees visited the Oregon sunshine. Although I searched for nests in the area, I didn’t find any.
Sunshine specifics
I hope some of you will add Oregon sunshine to your future plantings. Eriophyllum lanatum is native to western North America and thrives in a variety of climate types, from coastal to subalpine. It responds to its environment, growing tall and spindly in wetter regions while remaining short and compact in drier ones. Although this perennial seems best adapted to drier soils, it can thrive as long as soil drainage is fast and complete.
At first glance, the flowers resemble many other Asteraceae. The greenish-gray leaves are distinct, however, with a woolly coat and silvery sheen. The flowers, which bloom from May to August (right through our major nectar dearth) are yolk yellow with an orange-hued central disk.
Besides providing nectar and pollen for bees, butterflies, and flower flies, several species of moth larvae eat the leaves. Deer and rabbits stay clear mostly, so Oregon sunshine is an excellent choice for your next pollinator planting.
Rusty
Honey Bee Suite
Sunshine specifics
I hope some of you will add Oregon sunshine to your future plantings. Eriophyllum lanatum is native to western North America and thrives in a variety of climate types, from coastal to subalpine. It responds to its environment, growing tall and spindly in wetter regions while remaining short and compact in drier ones. Although this perennial seems best adapted to drier soils, it can thrive as long as soil drainage is fast and complete.
At first glance, the flowers resemble many other Asteraceae. The greenish-gray leaves are distinct, however, with a woolly coat and silvery sheen. The flowers, which bloom from May to August (right through our major nectar dearth) are yolk yellow with an orange-hued central disk.
Besides providing nectar and pollen for bees, butterflies, and flower flies, several species of moth larvae eat the leaves. Deer and rabbits stay clear mostly, so Oregon sunshine is an excellent choice for your next pollinator planting.
Rusty
Honey Bee Suite
Kay’s honey bees also visited the flowers. This one has started to collect pollen and store it on her rear legs.
