WSDA Blog

It’s May and already over 90 degrees on the Hanford Reach National Monument. I’m sweating. I’ve hyperextended my elbow. I’ve been stung by a bee. Twice. On my lip. And yet, I’m loving every minute of this.

What has led me to subject myself to multiple hazards on a hot spring day? I’m one of over 150 people (so far!) who have signed up to volunteer for a relatively new WSDA project called the Washington Bee Atlas. Our mission: to collect, pin, map, and identify all of Washington’s native bees and their plant associations — a task never before attempted in the state. It’s a massive effort that will help us understand what bees are in our state, learn which ones are doing well and which ones need stepped-up conservation efforts, and even come up with region-specific plant and seed recommendations.


_{A few Washington Bee Atlas volunteers on a collecting trip in May 2024. Karla is third from the left. Karen Wright, the WSDA bee taxonomist who leads the group, is in the middle with the baseball cap.} 

But, all benefits to the state and pollinators aside, my primary motivation is a fascination with the diversity and antics of bees I have witnessed over the past year. I collected over 1900 pollinators — mostly bees but also a few wasps, flies, and even moths. Spending so much time communing with the bees left a lot of time for observation and introspection. You might say my search for bees has led to the discovery of several life lessons.

A what? It is never too late to learn!


_{A Mechachile (leafcutter) bee was obsessed with me and wouldn't leave me alone at Hanford Reach.}

I first learned about the Washington Bee Atlas because I was the WSDA communications consultant assigned to provide communication support to the project. As they were describing the project to me, they mentioned that volunteers were trained to be Master Melittologists.

My response was the same as everyone else who first hears the term: a what?

A melittologist is someone who studies native bees — meaning everything except honey bees (which are not native to the western hemisphere). Volunteers who are not already trained biologists go through the Oregon State University Master Melittology Program. The program is online and similar in concept to the Master Gardener Program, except that rather than gardening, volunteers learn about native bees and how to professionally collect, pin, label, and — if they have interest — identify them.

Volunteers must be at least 18 years old, but understandably, many volunteers are retired. The program provides an opportunity for both young(ish) and old to learn about native bees. These people then help not only with collecting but providing education at community events about native bees.

We find what we seek

I was a little embarrassed to discover how little I know about the plants that grow in the wild, even where I grew up in central Washington. Growing up on a farm, I am familiar with many of our state’s crops as well as the never-ending battle with weeds. But to find bees, you need to first find flowers.

I was surprised to see an endless variety of stunning flowering plants in our state, many of them quite small. Linearleaf Phacelia may only be a couple of inches tall, but its purple blossoms are pollinator magnets. Columbia milkvetch has gorgeous pink flowerheads worthy of any cultivated garden. Thymeleaf buckwheat is a show-stopper groundcover that brightens up the spring with its profuse yellow and pink flowers.


_{Thymeleaf buckwheat}

This beauty has always been around me, but I wasn’t looking for it. It made me think about how that might be true in our lives as well. If we look for the weeds, that’s what we’ll find. If we look for the beautiful, we’ll find it. True, weeds are still weeds and they will always be part of life. But one of my lessons this year is to look for the true, good, and beautiful. When I look for it, I find it and my life is better for it.

Slow down to see

The beauty I had been missing was right before my eyes. I was just moving too quickly to see it. Tiny flowers are difficult, if not impossible, to see flying down the freeway. And what beauty we do glimpse is quickly replaced by the next thing that comes along. In our haste, we do not take time to notice or appreciate — and sometimes we even trample — the little loveliness around us.


_{Osmia integra was tricky to catch, but a last stop at Columbian milkvetch finally netted this beauty.} 

Slowing down to see was necessary not only for the flowers but for the bees as well. Many of our native bees are tiny — some only a few millimeters long! When in the field, it would take a little while to get my “bee eyes” on — to slow down and look closely enough to see the bees that were there. When I would start to see the bees, there was often a sense of awe, seeing some bees and looking over a wide, wild landscape knowing the countless number of bees that must be there.

It made me think about how often I rush through life trying to get through the long to-do list, and how often I may have trampled over people, not noticed them, or was too busy to ask how they were really doing in my quest to get-er-done. How often has the pace of my life meant I left people neglected or in the dust? Slowing down for the bees and flowers helped remind me that if I’m doing it for those things, how much more important it is that I really “see” those around me.

Bee-ing at the ready

One thing you’ll quickly learn collecting bees is that they are fast. A mere flinch can cause them to buzz off, dashing any hope of catching them. For success, you must have your net in hand, poised to nab a bee. If you reach for your net or need to swing your arm to be in position to capture the bee, you’ll likely scare it off.

This made me think about what areas in life we need to be “at the ready” rather than just ready. What steps do I need to take to make the most of opportunities should they arise? Are there areas where I have a net nearby, so to speak, but the time it would take me to prep that metaphorical net would result in me potentially missing an opportunity — especially a rare one?

A bee in the net is worth two in the shrub

What has been called “FOMO” in our culture (fear of missing out) is a real challenge when collecting bees. It is tempting for many of us volunteers to lose what we have in pursuit of the next bee.


_{Lots of female Anthophora bomboides (aka bumble bee like digger bees) at a watering spot at Fort Flagler State Park. Check out a video of hundreds of these bees getting water.} 

I can’t tell you how many bees escaped from my net because I was too busy following a different bee (or several bees) with my eyes rather than focusing on getting the bee already in my net into my collection jar. The result was usually that both were lost — the one I had and those I’d hoped to get.

How often does chasing the next best thing mean I don’t appreciate — or even lose — the things I already have?

Try, try, try again

Catching a bee is not as easy as it sounds. Especially for “newbees,” learning to net a bee and get it into the collection tube takes practice. Not only must they navigate new and sometimes awkward movements to catch bees, as previously mentioned, bees are fast. Some of them are really, really fast. (I’m looking at you, digger bees!)


_{A male Anthophoroa bomboides - aka bumblebee like digger bee - enjoys a searocket flower at Fort Flagler State Park.} 

If you want to learn patience and persistence, learning to catch bees in nets will certainly help you develop those skills. Many bees will come back to the same flowering plants repeatedly. So if you have the time and patience to wait, you’ll likely get another shot at catching a bee when you inevitably miss. (I frequently miss. Repeatedly.)

With enough patience, time, and determination, you can catch just about any bee. The same might be said of life — if we are sincerely committed to it, we can (usually) achieve what we set our mind to. There is always that one elusive bee — literally or figuratively — that will keep you humble, though!

Keep the net out

Relating to being at the ready, there were numerous times when I had pretty much thrown in the net for the day and was walking back to my car when I saw another bee.

I quickly learned that, even when heading back to my vehicle, there was still a chance to find another interesting bee. I kept my net out and “at the ready” even as I was winding down for the day. Probably as often as not, this last effort would result in netting another bee — sometimes one of the most interesting bees of the day.

This was a reminder to me that as long as an activity is still in progress — even at the end — I need to keep open and aware of the potential for a “find.” Maybe it is a long brainstorming session that is winding down and people are getting a little silly. But that silliness might be the environment that produces a winning idea.

Strange and wonderful, especially up close


_{A male Hylaeus basalis - aka the cinquefoil masked bee - has fascinating antennea} 

Catching and pinning bees was always interesting. It was fun to see what kind of new-to-me bees I may have found. But the really strange and fascinating discoveries happened when trying to identify bees under the microscope. Ordinary bees suddenly became fascinating when examined more closely.

One of the most surprising bees I found was a “masked bee” with huge, orange bulges at the base of the antennae. Another fun find was a Nomia bee, which has beautiful iridescent stripes on its abdomen. Yet another bee had antennae with an optical illusion: they looked like they were “clubbed” and were larger on the ends, but it turned out that one side of each antenna was light-colored except for the end, giving it that false appearance.

I think the same is true for people. If we just look superficially, we may miss the unique, interesting, and quirky characters of the people around us. But if we take the time to look more closely, we are sure to uncover little pieces of fascination in our neighbors, coworkers, and even the friends we already have.

Follow the bees, not the "rules"

I've long heard that to help native bees, you MUST plant native plants or you really aren't doing much to help them. But do you know where I found some of the most interesting and rare bees this past year? My mom’s garden!

While it is true that some specialist bees only pollinate one type of plant and those bees and plants rely on one another, that type of exclusive relationship is rather rare. Having such a narrow relationship makes it harder for both the plant and the bee to survive if one or the other disappears. Because of this, most bees are either generalists (using all kinds of flowers) or specialized to a family of plants (which still provides lots of variety) but not to a single species or genus.


_{I only found this Calliopsis bee in my mom's garden on candytuft} 

My mom has had an extensive flower and vegetable garden at her home since they moved to the farm over 40 years ago. Although she does have some natives, most of her garden consists of cultivated varieties of plants. Like any good gardener, she also tried to make sure that there was something blooming all season long.

My somewhat unscientific belief (although I have recently seen some evidence to support this concept) is that her garden has come to be a reliable spot, year after year, of flowering resources for bees. There is also usually a regular source of water. Her flower garden itself has minimal tillage, which is helpful since most bees nest in the ground, and there are canals surrounding my parent’s farm which both provide water and additional untilled areas for nesting bees.

While native plants can be nice and do have benefits, what most bees need are flowers — and lots of them! They need flowers consistently, year after year. So don’t feel guilty if you can’t or don’t want to use native plants in your garden. Where you have any flowering plants, you’re likely helping native bees. If you want to level up your bee-supporting game, have shallow water sources and undisturbed areas where bees can nest.

Find your beeple

One of the joys in life is connect with others over a similar interest. I recall an evening this past summer where a few volunteers got together for dinner. We all had very different backgrounds and experiences, but our love of and fascination with bees brought us together. The excitement and conversation firing around the table was palpable.


_{A female Pacific dune digger bee excavates her nest. Watch a video of this bee in action.} 

People who love bees are affectionately called “beeple” aka “bee people.” Whatever your passion is, finding a group of similarly passionate people can provide a sense of excitement and belonging.

If collecting native bees and helping improve our scientific knowledge of them sound like your jam, I invite you to learn about becoming a volunteer with the Washington Bee Atlas. (Despite my intro to this blog, bee stings are relatively rare, but possible.) The winter is a great time to do the online portion of the Master Melittology program so you’ll be ready to start catching bees this spring*.

If you want to know more about native bees but collecting them is outside of your comfort zone, consider checking out the Washington Native Bee Society. They have monthly meetings where you can learn more about native bees and even get tips on photographing them. 
 
*There is a fee for the Master Melittology course. However, some scholarships are available. Contact Karen Wright for more information if you are in need of a scholarship to participate in the program.