Leafcutter Bee in Action

About a month ago, I was weeding around one of my blueberry bushes and noticed the work of a leafcutter bee on some of the lower leaves. These enterprising little native bees cut neat circles out of leaves to line the nests they create in old wood crevices or in the ground.

Besides blueberries, they seem to favour Epimediums and species roses. They are solitary bees, so without a community to spread the word about other good sources of material, they keep returning to the same source once they've found it. I don't begrudge them their harvest because they are good pollinators in the garden and the plants don't appear to suffer, except perhaps a little in appearance.



While I was there, the bee kept returning for another piece of leaf. I ran for my camera and had a stab at recording it at work. My video is a bit blurry, thanks to my lack of skill, but I'm posting it anyway, at least until I can get a better clip.Watch the top lefthand corner for the bee's appearance. (Note: I'm hearing that, if you get my blog via the RSS feed, the video doesn't load -advice on how to fix this gratefully accepted. However, it loads successfully straight from the site.)

Leafcutter Bee in Action

About a month ago, I was weeding around one of my blueberry bushes and noticed the work of a leafcutter bee on some of the lower leaves. These enterprising little native bees cut neat circles out of leaves to line the nests they create in old wood crevices or in the ground.

Besides blueberries, they seem to favour Epimediums and species roses. They are solitary bees, so without a community to spread the word about other good sources of material, they keep returning to the same source once they've found it. I don't begrudge them their harvest because they are good pollinators in the garden and the plants don't appear to suffer, except perhaps a little in appearance.

While I was there, the bee kept returning for another piece of leaf. I ran for my camera and had a stab at recording it at work. My video is a bit blurry, thanks to my lack of skill, but I'm posting it anyway, at least until I can get a better clip.Watch the top lefthand corner for the bee's appearance. (Note: I'm hearing that, if you get my blog via the RSS feed, the video doesn't load -advice on how to fix this gratefully accepted. However, it loads successfully straight from the site.)

Apple Harvest

It wasn't my intention to harvest the crop from our three espaliered apple trees quite this soon, but a visit from hungry local raccoons - in broad daylight yet! - forced my hand.

The raccoons were happily gambolling along the top of the fence where most of the fruit was within easy reach.

 

Pomme Gris (aka Swayzie) is a late-fruiting variety and wasn't really ready.  The apples are small and the characteristic brown russeting of the skin has only just begun, so it's not surprising that they taste rather dry.

Last year it suffered badly from salt sprayed by the city in our lane during unusually heavy snowfalls and produced no fruit at all.  I am learning that this is not a highly-productive variety under any conditions and consider us lucky to have around a dozen apples this year, even if they are a disappointment. I have left a few on the tree, covered in netting, and will hope they survive the predators and have a chance to improve over the next few weeks.

Colville Blanc d'Hiver is a two-year-old whip that I didn't expect any fruit from, but it has produced three apples on its first (and only, so far) set of laterals.

 It is not going to win any beauty contests, but it is the apple of choice for the famous French dessert called Tarte Tatin. I'll try making a very small version with my limited supply.

Macoun, the oldest and most prolific tree outdid itself this year and even if they've been picked too early, the apples are quite large and juicy. I should have waited until they developed more of an all-over red colour, but they are going to make good eating, even if not at their best.

Apple Harvest

It wasn't my intention to harvest the crop from our three espaliered apple trees quite this soon, but a visit from hungry local raccoons - in broad daylight yet! - forced my hand.

The raccoons were happily gambolling along the top of the fence where most of the fruit was within easy reach.

 

Pomme Gris (aka Swayzie) is a late-fruiting variety and wasn't really ready.  The apples are small and the characteristic brown russeting of the skin has only just begun, so it's not surprising that they taste rather dry.

Last year it suffered badly from salt sprayed by the city in our lane during unusually heavy snowfalls and produced no fruit at all.  I am learning that this is not a highly-productive variety under any conditions and consider us lucky to have around a dozen apples this year, even if they are a disappointment. I have left a few on the tree, covered in netting, and will hope they survive the predators and have a chance to improve over the next few weeks.

Colville Blanc d'Hiver is a two-year-old whip that I didn't expect any fruit from, but it has produced three apples on its first (and only, so far) set of laterals.

 It is not going to win any beauty contests, but it is the apple of choice for the famous French dessert called Tarte Tatin. I'll try making a very small version with my limited supply.

Macoun, the oldest and most prolific tree outdid itself this year and even if they've been picked too early, the apples are quite large and juicy. I should have waited until they developed more of an all-over red colour, but they are going to make good eating, even if not at their best.

Late Summer Survivors

July and August have been so hot and dry that I'm grateful for any plant that has simply shrugged and carried on. You would expect that of a thistle relative.  Globe Thistle, Echinops ritro, climbed to its usual 150 cm (5 ft)  before producing its metallic blue globes, although I think they were paler and faded faster than in previous years.

Another thistle, Eryngium giganteum, better known by the evocative name of Miss Willmott's Ghost, also thrived.

Its silver bracts dry well and make a distinctive indoor arrangement as long as you can place them where they are out of stabbing range.

Clematis 'Huldine', with its roots in the cool, damp soil it loves, was a mass of white satin flowers.

I grow it below our back steps to give this view from the top. The buds have an entirely different appearance and their purple stripes remain on the underside of the petals. From the bottom of the steps, they look like this:

There are echoes of the same colours in low-growing Oregano 'Kent Beauty',

... and the pale grey spires of Lysimachia ephemerum.

This elegant perennial with sage-green foliage is much loved by the bees. Unlike some of its relatives, it is not invasive.

Out in front of the house, Hydrangea aspera ssp. sargentiana enjoys the all-day shade.  Every year it rises higher on its sturdy trunks and has almost reached the level of the porch, allowing us to look across its dinner-plate sized flower heads whenever we enjoy an evening drink there.

Close beneath it, Hydrangea 'Beni-gaku' has been attracting the attention of a swallowtail butterfly that was earlier focusing its attention on the daphne that flanks our front path.

 Just coming into bloom for the first time in the three years I've had it is a pineapple lily, Eucomis 'Sparkling Burgundy'. I think it must have listened last year when I told it "One more chance and then you're outta here."

On the more colourful front, Monarda 'Donnervolke', which means "thundercloud" is harmonizing well with late-blooming aconites.

And all the blooms except one on Hydrangea 'Beni' have completed their miraculous transformation  from pristine white to blood red. 

Late Summer Survivors

July and August have been so hot and dry that I'm grateful for any plant that has simply shrugged and carried on. You would expect that of a thistle relative.  Globe Thistle, Echinops ritro, climbed to its usual 150 cm (5 ft)  before producing its metallic blue globes, although I think they were paler and faded faster than in previous years.

Another thistle, Eryngium giganteum, better known by the evocative name of Miss Willmott's Ghost, also thrived.

Its silver bracts dry well and make a distinctive indoor arrangement as long as you can place them where they are out of stabbing range.

Clematis 'Huldine', with its roots in the cool, damp soil it loves, was a mass of white satin flowers.

I grow it below our back steps to give this view from the top. The buds have an entirely different appearance and their purple stripes remain on the underside of the petals. From the bottom of the steps, they look like this:

There are echoes of the same colours in low-growing Oregano 'Kent Beauty',

... and the pale grey spires of Lysimachia ephemerum.

This elegant perennial with sage-green foliage is much loved by the bees. Unlike some of its relatives, it is not invasive.

Out in front of the house, Hydrangea aspera ssp. sargentiana enjoys the all-day shade.  Every year it rises higher on its sturdy trunks and has almost reached the level of the porch, allowing us to look across its dinner-plate sized flower heads whenever we enjoy an evening drink there.

Close beneath it, Hydrangea 'Beni-gaku' has been attracting the attention of a swallowtail butterfly that was earlier focusing its attention on the daphne that flanks our front path.

 Just coming into bloom for the first time in the three years I've had it is a pineapple lily, Eucomis 'Sparkling Burgundy'. I think it must have listened last year when I told it "One more chance and then you're outta here."

On the more colourful front, Monarda 'Donnervolke', which means "thundercloud" is harmonizing well with late-blooming aconites.

And all the blooms except one on Hydrangea 'Beni' have completed their miraculous transformation  from pristine white to blood red.