Endless Summer



Libellula saturata (Orange Skimmer Dragonfly)



Gymnocalycium schickendantzii



Ferocactus cylindraceus



Thelocactus 'bicolor'



Caesalpinia pulcherrima

We set some more temperature records this past week--a couple of days at 111 degrees--so it's not yet fall in the desert. Many plants had started putting out new growth, thinking that fall had arrived because of the shorter days. The late September weather surprise left tender new shoots roasted. The same thing happened this past spring. Even with these setbacks, most of the trees, shrubs, cacti and succulents really had a growth surge this year because of the very good rainfall (10.4 inches to date at my house, compared with 4.28 inches for 2009.) The downside of this growth spurt with the cacti is that they produced very few blooms, and among the ones that did flower, most were small.

Birds and butterflies have been scarce around here most of the year, but now that the summer cover crop of pearl millet growing in nearby fields is ripening, hundreds of crow-like birds are hanging around my back yard. They'll be here until the crop is harvested.

My garden environment should attract more birds and butterflies--I have the magnet plants, water, trees, and all the other environmental attractors necessary, but still no butterflies, and other than the occasional Anna's hummingbird, not many birds--except for those transient crows and the ever-present mourning doves.  I've also tried attracting Mason Bees, and even contemplated buying a bundle of bees when none came around to my nesting tube, but with the luck I've had with birds and butterflies, I figured it would be a waste of money, just like the nesting tube.

Ready For Occupancy

I've been interested in Mason Bees (Osmia lignaria) since reading an article about them in a University of Arizona publication last fall. Until I read the article, I didn't know a thing about them, or that they occur naturally in Arizona as well as throughout the United States. These bees are smaller than honey bees and almost black in color. They are docile and friendly, and do not normally bother humans if they are not bothered. They are not destructive like carpenter bees because they do not excavate nest holes for themselves. The way to attract them is to provide them a bee house all ready for nesting. The nests are placed facing east or south. In Arizona, the bee house can go up from February to July to attract the bees.

Supplying a ready-made nest helps the female Mason bee spend less time and effort on nest preparation and more time on gathering nectar and pollen and laying eggs. First, she places a mud plug at the bottom of the tube, then brings 15 to 20 loads of nectar and pollen from spring flowers until she has enough to begin laying an egg in the tube. Then, she will plaster the opening of the tube with a mud plug, and move on to prepare and complete the next tube and so on. She only lives for about a month, and will produce one or two eggs a day. The eggs become larva, which feed on the pollen pellet. After it consumes the pellet, it spins a cocoon and pupates within the tube cell. Around September, the larva transforms into an adult bee that stays in the plugged tube until the following spring. And the cycle begins again.

So far, no Mason bees have nested in my bee house. I wonder if I got it up too late in the season, or if there are no Mason bees around here yet. I guess I'll just wait to see if any show up between now and July. I hope so, as I was looking forward to watching them at work.

Honey bees aren't interested in the nests, but some leaf cutter bees and wasps will build nests in the bee house, so I'll have to watch for that. You can tell if something other than a Mason bee has filled a tube. The Mason bee plugs have a rough mud surface, the wasp mud plugs are smooth, and the leaf cutters seal their tubes with chewed leaves so they are green in color.

Cochineal Infestation

My prized Prickly Pear has a very serious infestation of Cochineal Scale. The once beautiful cactus is covered with the white waxy coating produced by the female Cochineal insect. This ugly fungus-like stuff serves to protect the sucking insect from birds and predatory insects as it uses its sharp proboscis to pierce the cactus skin and suck out nutrients. If the infestation becomes heavy as it is here, it will eventually kill the host cactus.



The Cochineal insect is difficult to get rid of once an invasion begins. Opuntias and Chollas are its favorite meal. The first step to try to rid the cactus of the insect is to spray it with a strong spray of water to dislodge the waxy coating, causing the insect to die when exposed. In this photo, you can see the small holes left by the insects, as well as the insect itself. Those dark dots in the center of the white stuff are exposed insects. If that doesn't work, and in the case of my cactus, it didn't--spraying with an Isopropyl alcohol/water mixture is the next step. I've done that and it didn't help this cactus, so the next step will a soap spray.



The final step is usually a chemical application. I don't want to use Malathion because I have a Jade Plant very close to the Prickly Pear, and Jades are very susceptible to Malathion. Even a little bit of stray spray can kill them. However Malathion doesn't seem to bother Prickly Pear at all.



If I can't get this under control soon, I'm going to have to take out this cactus, which is now close to five feet high, in order to keep it from spreading to my other Opuntias. The last best hope is that a a swarm of common predators, such as Lady Bugs, will swoop in and promptly devour the Cochineal insects, but Lady Bugs are few and far between around here. Even if I bought some to use, they usually just take off, and you just can't herd Lady Bugs.

This is the test to determine if the invasion is truly the Cochineal insect. Cochineal means 'scarlet colored', and when squished, the insect is filled with the dark red substance. It's almost like a tick when full--except much smaller. The female is only about a quarter inch long. The red substance was used for centuries as a dye, and in some regions of the world, it still is. There are even Prickly Pear/Cochineal farms in regions of Mexico, Algeria and the Canary Islands.

The Cochineal insect is also used a natural food coloring in place of aniline dye. It's probably best to keep that under wraps. Many folks would be appalled to know their favorite red-colored food may contain the contents of an insect belly!

The Demise of Bees

Arizona Republic published a story this week stating that 36.1 percent of the nation's commercially managed hives have been lost in the past year. After reading about this, I remembered a poem that seemed fitting.

The

When the last bee died,
nobody noticed. Nobody put on black
or made a dirge for the death
of honey. Nobody wrote an elegy
to apricots, no one mourned for cherries.

When the last bee died,
everyone was busy. They had things to do,
drove straight to work each morning,
straight back home each night. The roads
all seriously hummed. Besides,

the pantries were still packed
with cans of fruit cocktail in heavy syrup,
deep deep freezers full
of concentrated grape and orange juice,
stores stocked with artificial flavoring.

When the last bee died, nobody saw
the poppies winking out, nobody cried
for burdock, yarrow, wild delphinium.
Now and again a child would ask for
dandelions, quickly shushed: That pest!

And everyone is fine. The children healthy,
radish-cheeked. They play she loves me/not
with Savoy cabbage leaves, enjoy the telling
of the great myths, peach and peony.
No one believes in apples any more.

End Notes for a Small History
Betty Lies
"Southern Poetry Review"
Summer 1998 Vol. XXXVlll, No. 1 page 33

Desert Honey

Parkinsonia x 'Desert Museum'

Information on the Desert Museum Palo Verde: (Post 1, and Post 2)

The four Desert Museum Palo Verde trees on my property are in full bloom, and humming with bees gathering pollen. The bees are more numerous than last year, but Colony Collapse Disorder is still a huge problem, causing the loss of billions of bees around the world.

Bees: Responsible For Every Third Bite of Food

"The Great Sunflower Project, a continent-wide event, focuses attention on bees and continues year-round with activities such as gardening, sunflower and bee watching, art, and science. These events are raising awareness about the world's most important pollinators--our native bees. You can help us gain a better understanding of which bees are declining where--and what habitats they need to survive.

People of all ages and backgrounds can participate, independently or with the many local organizations planting sunflowers in their gardens, including schools, public gardens, nature centers, museums, and parks. Participants watch sunflowers until five bees have visited and never longer than 30 minutes. The information is then sent to scientists at San Francisco State University by mail or online.

Everyone who signs up for this free project at The Great Sunflower Project can download the Sunflower Kit or ask to receive one by mail. The kit includes data forms for reporting the bees seen, a colorful guide to gardening for pollinators, educational materials about bees, and a packet of sunflower seeds to plant in pots and gardens.

“It is vital that we understand how bees where bees are declining in order to start to help them,” says project leader Dr. Gretchen LeBuhn. “Having healthy pollinators is important for both natural systems and our food supply.”
Your home, school or community garden and those around the world produce roughly 15-20% of all the food we eat. And for the urban poor, who spend 50-70% of their income on food, these gardens are a real source of good nutrition and an essential route to food security.

Whether your garden contains vegetables, fruit trees, flowers, or even medicinal plants, many of these plants must be pollinated before a fruit forms. And as the headlines for the last year have made clear, bees are under threat. Please consider becoming involved in The Great Sunflower Project:

Great family activity

Prior knowledge of bees not necessary

It’s easy

It won’t take any more than 30 minutes

Do it in pots, or a private or public garden

All you need is a sunflower

Free materials (including information and seeds)

Participate alone or with others

Share observations online or by mail

See The Great Sunflower Project website for more information.

Orange Skimmer Dragonfly

Libellula saturata

After hundreds of tries, I've finally captured a photo of a dragonfly, and I didn't have a tripod! That may not seem like a big deal to some, but I've worked on this for months, and the photos were always blurry. This Orange Skimmer (Libellula saturata) must have been tired as it stayed on the tip of an Agave americana long enough for me to rush in and get my camera, aim, and shoot. When I tried to move around to get a shot of its eyes, it finally flew away.

I was surprised to see this dragonfly in my garden as they are usually found near ponds or streams. They are the most common dragonfly in Arizona, and they are also called Flame Skinners. The one pictured is a male. The females have less orange coloration and the wings are clearer in color.

While checking my accuracy on its identity, I learned a few things about dragonflies:

• 
  The front and back wings of a dragonfly move in opposite directions, giving them unparalleled maneuverability
• 
  They are one of the fastest flying insects
• 
  The reason they hang around water is that when the eggs hatch, the nymphs will eat plants and even fish and tadpoles
• 
  They have territories, and will fiercely defend them
  
  
  

Making A Mountain Out Of An Anthill

When I was a kid growing up on a dairy farm, my siblings and I were familiar with all the insects that flew and crawled around the farm, but not by their scientific names. Common names and sting potential were all we needed to identify the various insects. We learned the sting potential from personal experience. Our sting severity index went like this, in descending order. Scorpions, cow killers, wasps, bumblebees, mud- dobbers, bees, flying ants and big red ants. The last, and the least lethal, were little black ants. We called them "piss ants." We accepted their presence, didn’t bother them, and for the most part, they didn’t bother us, unless we accidentally interfered with them. When that happened, we suffered the painful consequences.

Well, now I’m grown up and I get upset when the little black and red ants make anthills all over my garden and on my brick patio. I can accept (barely) the hills in the garden, but not the ones on my brick sidewalks and patios. The ants like to push up the sand between the pavers. That leaves empty gaps, and those gaps continue to grow even after the ants vacate the spot and move on to another. I then have to sweep up the anthills, put new sand in the gaps and tamp it down, and wait for another hill to appear.

I got so tired of this endless routine that I had my pavers sealed at huge expense. That lasted less than a week. The ants just pushed through the polymer sealant barrier as if it wasn’t there and the vicious cycle began again. I was out over $1000—for nothing.

We have professional pest control treatment on a regular basis, and they use some type of bait that looks like cornmeal. It doesn’t work. The ants in the photo are completely unfazed by the bait; they seem to find a way around it to get to their hole.

I guess I’ll just stick to the sweeping routine. It’s certainly cheaper than all the failed ant thwarters I’ve tried so far. I should be happy that I haven’t been stung yet. And, I still don't know the scientific names of the creepy crawlies and I don't really want to.

Red Scales in the Sunset

It finally happened. The cochineal bug has invaded my garden and attached itself to my lone Engelmann’s Prickly Pear (Opuntia Engelmannii.) Other than an occasional watering in the depths of summer, I normally don’t pay much attention to this cactus, so it was only by chance that I caught this invasion early and began to treat it.

The cochineal scale insect resides in small fluffy white webs on cactus pads, which is what it feeds on. Some cacti can become covered with cochineal scale, which will eventually kill the cactus if it is not treated. Cochineal is partial to Purple Prickly Pear (Opuntia Santa Rita) but so far, my two are unaffected. Birds spread the insect from cactus to cactus with their feet, so maybe it's just a matter of time.

The way to determine if the white fluffy stuff on a cactus pad is cochineal is to squeeze the web. If it’s cochineal, it will ooze a scarlet red color, as shown in the photo. To eliminate it, I spray the cactus with a power spray of water to rid it of the webs. This may not rid the cactus completely, but by keeping down the population, it will help keep the cactus healthy.

For centuries, the dried and crushed bodies of cochineal scale insects have been as a non-toxic fabric dye. This natural dye is becoming popular again among weavers, to the point that harvesting of the cochineal is a commercial enterprise in Mexico as well as other parts of the world. Thornless Prickly Pears are now available in these commercial enterprises for easier harvesting.

I’ve been experimenting with the stuff as a dye for gourd crafting, but I think it takes another ingredient to assure its permanency. I think I’ll stick to leather dyes and alcohol inks and leave the chemistry to others.