Dear Friend of the Forests-

To help you stay close to nature, this week we explore the life in a Spicebush up close in our Window to the Woods series; The Spicebush Chronicles

— Your Friends at Wild Virginia 

 

Spicebush Chronicles: Cuckoo Bees and Pollinators

Native plants such as spicebush host numerous species including many pollinators. Over the past year, I’ve been documenting the myriad forms of life that make use of the several spicebushes in our backyard.

Steven David Johnson

Detail of a cuckoo bee sleeping suspended from a developing spicebush berry

A cuckoo bee sleeps suspended from a developing spicebush berry

A cuckoo bee uses its impressive mandibles to stay attached to a spicebush leaf

As the sun burns off the morning cold, this cuckoo bee will soon wake and begin its day

Spicebush flowers host an array of pollinators

Spicebush pollen coats a tiny ant as it makes its way through the flowers

Bees are specially adapted to pick up pollen

Covered in dew, a bee fly rests on a newly formed spicebush leaf

 
 

Cuckoo Bees (by Anna Maria Johnson)

The cuckoo bee has earned its name by behaving in a manner akin to the cuckoo bird—by laying her eggs in the nests of other bees rather than by building her own. In the case of cuckoo bees, they use only the nests of solitary bees (such as mining and mason bees)—never of social bees like honeybees—and each genus and species of cuckoo bees is associated with a specific genus and species of solitary bee. Nomada species, for instance, will only use the nests of Andrena (mining) bees. 

There is a fantastic word to describe this behavior: cleptoparasitic (sometimes spelled kleptoparasitic). Like a kleptomaniac and a parasite rolled into one, these bees steal the nests of other bees so that their young can feed on the provisions that the host prepared for its own young. The host’s child is killed in this process, sometimes by the invading mother as she deposits her egg and sometimes later by the emerging larvae. This may sound like an alien horror movie, but we can appreciate these creatures for their way of life that has evolved over millennia. In ecology, every link and every creature matters. According to scholars, cleptoparasites play a vital role in stabilizing bee populations and may even serve as indicator species for their hosts. If specific types of cuckoo bees are around, for example, then you know you have stable populations of the particular bees they need to live on. Seeing a cuckoo bee of the Nomada genus lets us know there must be healthy populations of mining bees around, even if I haven’t seen them. Solitary bee species can be hard to find and count, so it’s helpful to let their associated cleptoparasite species stand in as an indicator that their populations are doing okay. 

But why not also appreciate them for being a species unto themselves? Because of their marauding lifestyle, they have evolved a pointy abdomen so that they resemble wasps more than bees. They lack some of the hairiness and structures of other bees since they don’t need to collect pollen to store up for their babies; they can simply rely on the pollen their host species collects. They have incredibly strong mandibles useful for spearing their hosts but also great for chomping onto a leaf so that they can rest for the night dangling by their jaws. 

Setting aside their birthing process, I find them adorable; don’t you?

References

Sheffield, C.S., Pindar, A., Packer, L. et al. The potential of cleptoparasitic bees as indicator taxa for assessing bee communities. Apidologie 44, 501–510 (2013). https://doi.org/10.1007/s13592-013-0200-2

Anna Maria Johnson is an author, teacher, and gardener in the Shenandoah Valley. She earned her MFA in Creative Writing from Vermont College of Fine Arts in 2012 and completed training with the Headwaters Chapter of Virginia Master Naturalists in 2021. She has written several books for young audiences for Cavendish Square Publishing.

 
 
 

We believe the places you KNOW and LOVE are the places you want to PROTECT.

All photos taken by Steven David Johnson. 

Steven is a conservation photographer and Professor of Visual and Communication Arts at EMU in the Shenandoah Valley. His photography of the natural world has appeared in Orion, Nature Conservancy Magazine, Ranger Rick, Virginia Wildlife, National Science Teachers Association Press books and numerous conservation publications and journals. 

Steve is vice-president of the Virginia Wilderness Committee and an Affiliate of the International League of Conservation Photographers. When not in the office, you’ll probably find him crouched next to a vernal pool photographing Appalachian salamanders. You can view more of his photography on Instagram.

 

Wild Virginia
PO Box 1065  | Charlottesville, Virginia 22902
434-971-1553 | info@wildvirginia.org

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