Momma Bee Gotta Eat

More bee nests have appeared in these last few weeks, and still unequal cellophane bees have been cruising low on sunny days.

Laying eggs and provisioning their nests with food for the young costs momma bees a lot.  What did they have to eat this early in spring? 

Less than a week after I first spotted nesting bees, the big pussy willow beside the house began to bloom.  Since it's male, the tree produces a lot of nutritious pollen – the sole food of growing bee larvae.  A small European willow bloomed about the same time, but my small prairie willows and meadow willows (natives that I've planted) still lag well behind.  Much more important are the many red maples also in flower.  All of these trees are mainly wind- rather than bee-pollinated, but hungry bees don't care that much.  

 

Pussy willow catkins beginning to show pollen-laden stamens.

 

I'm a little embarrassed that I didn't notice red maples in flower until they were nearly done.

Like willows, red maple is typically gendered; this one is male.

 

 

Leaves don't fall--they're pushed!

  

Red maples on West Elm Street, Brockton on 11/6/16--only a day or so after strong winds.

How else could you explain the piles of leaves now gathering, simultaneously, under so many trees?  It was very windy a day or two ago, yet only now, in stillness, are the leaves falling in large numbers. 

Many assume that in fall leaves die and fall off, while in fact the deciduous "habit" is an active process of gradually dismantling cellular machinery, retrieving some elements for recycling into next year's growth, and then cutting loose the "used up" leaf that remains. 

After the greater part of phosphorus and potassium and especially nitrogen are withdrawn from the leaf to be stored in trunk or roots, a special "breakaway" zone called the abscission zone develops at the base of the petiole (leaf stem).  Part of this zone includes a waterproof "bandaid" coated with fatty suberin that prevents "bleeding" from the wound that will result.  After this, the slightest breeze--or even just the weight of the leaf--will break it loose. 

View through a microscope.  The twig is on the left, the leaf grows out on the right.  Each little chamber you see is a single cell.  You can see how the leaf is being separated from the twig beginning at a sort of notch.

If you look at any twig you will see the leaf scar beneath each bud that marks where a leaf was attached.  Towards the middle of the leaf scar is one or more bundle scars that mark where the abscission zone cut through the vascular tissue that transports water and minerals upward (called xylem), and sugar downward (called phloem).  These scars vary in shape and arrangement from species to species, and are a good aid to identification.  

Is it really spring?

Since the equinox two weeks ago, we have had  one or two shirt-sleeve days that were almost painfully sunny.  I greeted familiar old trees as long-lost friends, solicitously inquiring after their health after the long, snowy winter.  

Nearly all fared well.  The small female red maple street tree I call Little Mama still has every one of the buds on three twigs I check periodically.  (I am trying to find out why so few buds form new branches; most of the buds must fail eventually, but not so far.)  

A big white pine on the other side of the block has suffered, though.  Two biggish limbs (butts of diameter 3 and 4 inches) fell some time during the winter.  I only spotted these a few days ago, but they may have been covered with snow before that.  More ominously is the browning of needles on several limbs: the browning begins at the tips and proceeds toward the bases.  A few minutes on the web brings up several possibilities, from salt damage to ozone damage.  The likeliest seems to be "winter burn," caused by dessication of the needles--especially since the damage is confined to a few limbs on the south (sunward) side of the tree.  I'm guessing this will go away in time. 

Four eastern hemlock trees not too far from the white pine all have browning needles on the lowest limbs.  I hope this is another case of winter burn: at least one of these trees was being attacked by wooly adelgids last season, but the damage seems too great to have been caused by the alien invasive insects that hide under the cottony white masses that mark the undersides of infected twigs. 

Today, April 2nd, I walked past long stretches of snow in 50+ degree sunshine, and wondered when we last had significant snow cover this late in the year.  I'm not talking about the snowplow Everests in the mall or school parking lots, or even the piles cleared from sidewalks and driveways, but snow that lies where it fell.  Especially in north-facing yards, undisturbed snow is often four to six inches deep. 

 Big red maple (Acer rubrum) of neighbor is bursting with flower buds.

 

Little Mama's buds are unscathed by nights below zero Fahrenheit and repeated snowfall.

 Big white pine with browing needles.

 Hemlocks infested with wooly adelgid also show winter damage.

A good deal of snow has disappeared just in the last few days: March 29, April 1, April 2.

 But there is still a lot of snow on the ground--not everywhere, but certainly in shaded sites.

In these yards, almost no shoveling has been done except for driveways.

 

 

A neighbor allows his single sugar maple to be tapped. 

The syrup from sap of several such trees has won prizes at local fairs.

I know--not native, but prettier than the native early-bloomer: skunk cabbage!

Changes

I have a love-hate relationship with daylight savings time.  I am attached to the notion that what my clock tells me should be on speaking terms with the motion of earth and sun.  On the other hand, I really like having more daylight in the evening--especially late in the year.  Right now, back on Eastern Standard Time, it is very hard for me to get outdoors with my camera during the week.  By the time I get home, the light is going, and my little camera is struggling to get exposures shorter than a tenth of a second.   These are generally blurred messes.  A tripod would help, but slow me down a lot--and draw even more attention from the neighbors!

On the other hand, the sun is up in the morning before I leave for work.  I wonder if I can squeeze some outdoor time from my morning routine?

Between the end of daylight savings, and poor weekend weather, I have few photos from the last week or so.  But maybe its time for a little retrospective.

For the big white ash in back, drought-induced leaf-loss graded

 imperceptibly into fall.  Most of the neighborhood ashes kept pace.

Photos 10/3, 9/26, 10/8, 10/12, 10/20

 

A majestic white ash down the street put on its show latest of all in the neighborhood.

Photos 10/5, 10/7, 10/18, 10/21, 10/25

Big Daddy, a red maple street tree, began turning pretty early. (9/29)

The big red maple in the yard next door began turning a bit later than its fellows.

Photos 9/29, 10/2, 10/12, 10/18, 10/21

 

Little Mama, a red maple street tree I watch for Nature's Notebook, and

Big Daddy's neighbor, held on to her leaves to the last.  Photos 9/19, 10/2, 10/4,
10/7, 10/12, 10/12, 10/14, 10/18, 10/21, 10/21,10/25, 11/1, 11/5, 11/5, 11/8.