This is a comforting thought, and perhaps one day [...]]]> At least not in the way we’d like. In the past few years a flood of articles has heralded native pollinators as “saviors”—groups of selfless, tireless, seldom-seen gladiators that are going to step in and save our food supply once the honey bees die off.

This is a comforting thought, and perhaps one day native pollinators will shoulder the bulk of our pollination needs—but it won’t happen within our current system of agriculture. It can’t. Successful transition to native pollinators will require nothing short of a complete overall of our current farming system.

If you read about the biology and ecology of wild pollinators, you will see they can be very efficient in terms of the number of flowers pollinated per minute. So efficient, in fact, that you wonder why the heck we ever started using honey bees. But as you dig deeper, you will also see they have very different life cycles and habitat requirements.

Some native pollinators will forage only a few hundred yards from their homes while honey bees will easily cover a three-mile radius—even more if resources are scarce. Some native pollinators visit only one plant species, or several, while honey bees pollinate hundreds. Some native pollinators are active only a few weeks of the year while a honey bee colony will forage any time the weather permits. Most native pollinators live singly or in small groups while honey bees live in massive colonies. The list goes on.

In the “old days,” let’s say before the end of WWII, people who kept honey bees kept them for honey. And if you didn’t keep bees, you didn’t worry about pollination. In fact, no one paid any attention to pollinators because there was no shortage. A farmer planted a field, the pollinators did their thing, and a crop was harvested. Short-lived, picky pollinators weren’t a problem because there were hundreds of different kinds. There was always one or a dozen other species to pick up where the last one left off.

But the Green Revolution changed how we farm and, before long, there weren’t enough native pollinators to do the job. The fields were too big, the habitat was too scarce, and pesticides were everywhere. As farms got bigger and more mechanized, honey bees had to be trucked in along with other forms of migrant labor.

Even the people who are currently studying native pollinators concede that without significant changes, native bees might supplement—but not supplant—honey bees. Some experts estimate that up to 30% of the farmland would have to be converted to bee habitat. Hedgerows, borders, and habitat strips would have to be interspersed with crops. This reserved land would need to remain un-tilled and be planted with large numbers of flowering plants so that something was always in bloom.

Thing is, even with all those resources devoted to wild species, it might not be enough. We would have to change pesticide practices, stop poisoning roadside weeds, and eliminate larger-than-life fields. We would have to become stewards—rather than pillagers—of the land.

I wouldn’t want to discourage anyone from keeping a hive of honey bees or tacking a bee block to a fencepost. But even thousands of them won’t assure a future food supply. To do that we must change the way we farm—from endless rows of monoculture to GMOs to weed control—it all has to be fixed. Native pollinators can’t save us unless we save them first. Care of pollinators needs to be job one.

Rusty
HoneyBeeSuite

Bumble bee on ceoanthus.

What kid in America didn’t grow up chasing milkweed fairies? The hairy white seeds floated, bobbled, and danced across the grass while the neighborhood children delighted in catching the elusive prize. Once caught, you cupped it in your hands, made a wish, and blew it free. It tumbled [...]]]> Make a wish, blow it free.

What kid in America didn’t grow up chasing milkweed fairies? The hairy white seeds floated, bobbled, and danced across the grass while the neighborhood children delighted in catching the elusive prize. Once caught, you cupped it in your hands, made a wish, and blew it free. It tumbled out on a summer breeze and drifted to wherever.

Kids? I still catch milkweed fairies and I’m plenty old enough to know better.

The problem is this—there just aren’t as many milkweed seeds floating around as there used to be. For some reason we like to see more “refined” perennials growing along our fences, roadsides and utility easements. But that’s a bias that’s hurting the pollinators—especially the milkweed butterflies such as the monarch.

The awe-inspiring monarch is completely dependent on milkweeds for survival. The larval stage eats the leaves of the milkweed and stores a portion of the poisonous sap in its tissues. This poison remains throughout the life cycle of the monarch, making it distasteful to predators. If we want to save the wondrous migrating monarchs, we have to save the milkweeds.

Milkweeds don’t deserve the “weed” part of their name. They are sturdy perennials that love the sun and can live in poor and rocky soils. Depending on the species, they grow from 2 to 6 feet high and make excellent low-maintenance border and landscape plants. The flowers come in an astonishing array of colors that includes white, green, pink, purple, and brilliant orange, and the seed pods make eye-catching dried arrangements.

The best part is that milkweeds attract not only monarchs but a panoply of pollinators including bees, other butterflies, and hummingbirds.

So put it on your list. Buy some milkweed seeds. The organizations below will provide free or low-cost milkweed seeds in a variety of colors that are especially attractive to monarchs. The sites contain useful planting and care instructions as well.

Go ahead. Plant them for the butterflies . . . plant them for the kids . . . plant them for the fairies. Then make a wish.

Rusty

http://www.livemonarch.com/free-milkweed-seeds.htm

http://www.amazingbutterflies.com/milkweedseeds.htm

Milkweed seeds. Flickr photo by Muffet/liz west.