Shining Light on Prairie Pollinators

Honeybee

Following a resolutely cold wet spring, summer opened similarly dismal. Everyone who wants to know already knows that pollinators – those myriad tiny critters without whose collective, dedicated labor humankind would fast dwindle then soon perish – are in trouble.

Silver-spotted Skipper

This year on the prairie, early season misery spread well into supposedly warm, fecund summer. Prairie plants held back on perennial richness like pregnant buffalo refusing to risk giving birth during a blizzard.

I nursed concern and everywhere, looked hard for hopeful signs.

Cabbage White

Among early arrivals that toughed it out were particularly hearty Red Admirals. They appeared early, came in force and are even now only a little worse for wear.

Red Admiral

But throughout the first half of summer, bees remained few and those there were worked hard for too little.

Carpenter Bee

Invariably, the days grew shorter. Then in July the heat waves came. Rolling storms threw warm rain not cold. With that, color finally intruded upon a world of resolute green.

Black Swallowtail

After the rains a good crop of fireflies emerged on our little patch. A positive delight now mostly spent, some stragglers still dance nightly to lingering cicada song.

Today marks the final third of meteorological summer. There's less ahead than behind. I know the feeling.

American Lady

Used to be, for me fieldwork meant traveling thousands of miles to periodically shoulder 50# of gear, then set off in search of failed construct and history being consumed by resurgent life.

I still do that work, but travel less and walk lighter.

Fiery Skipper

More often than not, fieldwork today means stepping out my back door and peering past our world of construct, sometimes right down to the heart of the matter.

Milkweed Blossoms

What's true is that soon, the season of soft fading light will again be on us.

Sweat Bee (Or a Hover Fly, maybe...)

Counting the days down from here, autumn is just over the horizon. Beyond that lurks winter, a ravenous cold beast.

Great Black Wasp

With proper summer, the bees returned. In bright sun, all manner of them swarm the bolted oregano. So for a bit longer yet, even the least if most sorely imperiled among us get to eat.

And as they go, we go.

Honeybee