Showing posts with label Colletidae. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Colletidae. Show all posts

Saturday, April 11, 2026

The Beetle and the Bee

At the end of February, I finally found a beetle I had been looking for here, for years. Perhaps I had not been scouting for it early enough, but we barely had a winter this year, and I suspect that most years it would have been evident in March. The key was finding an aggregation of its host organism.

Tricrania sanguinipennis is a blister beetle in the family Meloidae. The adult insects measure 9-15 millimeters, but are bright enough, and active enough, that they are easily seen. Their wings, hidden under their red, leathery elytra, are almost vestigial, so they are flightless. Instead they crawl, but rather rapidly, over the surface of the soil, periodically digging where they detect the possible presence of a host.

Kansas is about as far west as this beetle is found, though there are records well north into Saskatchewan, Canada. It occurs over the eastern U.S. to extreme northern Florida, and up into adjacent southern Canada.

The limiting factor is that Tricrania sanguinipennis is a parasitoid of solitary bees that nest in dense aggregations, namely cellophane bees in the genus Colletes.

We have the Unequal Cellophane Bee, Colletes inaequalis, nesting in our yard and/or the adjacent neighbor’s lawn, depending on the year, but those locations are apparently blister beetle-free. It took finding a small aggregation of the bees in a forested park to locate the beetles.

An Unequal Cellophane Bee lurks just inside the entrance to her burrow.

The bees nest in burrows, ideally in sandy soil. The vertical, subterranean tunnels branch into several individual cells, each one an “apartment” for a single bee larva. The grub feeds on a nearly liquid loaf of pollen and nectar. The walls of its room are coated in a type of natural plastic manufactured in glands in its mother’s abdomen, which essentially waterproofs the chamber, and retards mold and fungus.

Back to the beetles. What the female beetles lack in mobility, they more than make up for in fecundity. Each lady can produce hundreds of eggs, over a thousand in some documented instances. How, then, do the beetles gain entry into these tunnels? The answer is that they do not. The larvae do.

The larval stage is unusually lengthy, progressing through six instars. An instar is the interval between molts. It is also strange in that it includes hypermetamorphosis. In this case that means the larval form changes radically in both appearance and behavior from one molt to the next.

Several male Unequal Cellophane Bees waiting for females to emerge.

The first instar larva that emerges from the egg is a sleek, streamlined, highly mobile bee-seeking missile called a triungulin. At the time they are active, it is almost exclusively male Colletes bees that are active, buzzing about and frequently landing to investigate a potential site where a female could emerge. It is at these brief moments when a blister beetle triungulin scampers aboard, affixing itself to the hairs on the underside of the bee’s abdomen.

Oops! An overeager male mistakes another male for a female.

When the male bee at last is able to mate, the triungulin transfers to the female bee. In at least a few instances, the triungulin may attach directly to a female bee that it encounters on the ground. She will eventually, and unwittingly, ferry that parasite, and probably several others, to her new nest burrow. Once inside, it disembarks and infiltrates one of the subterranean nest cells.

The beetle larva usually consumes the egg of the host immediately, but not always. The bulk of its diet will be the honey and pollen left by the bee for its offspring in the cell. It may be a frequent occurrence that more than one beetle larva invades a single bee cell. In that event, cannibalism of the competition resolves the conflict.

The meal of the host egg or larva is usually enough nutrition to trigger the beetle larva’s molt to the next instar. This results in a shocking change from that sleek, active larva into the insect equivalent of a couch potato. The second instar is, shall we say….rotund, and boat-shaped. It commences feeding on the pollen and nectar stores in the cell of the now missing bee offspring. The insect retains this form for the remainder of its larval life. The first three instars shuck their old exoskeleton completely, but the fourth and fifth instars retain each molt in its entirety. Think of it as an object inside a balloon (inside another balloon by the fifth instar). Those larvae actually shrink in size to fit inside the shed “skins.” When molting into the pupa stage, the sixth molt is again broken during shedding, and compacted at the rear of the pupa, which is still inside those other exoskeleton balloons.

It takes until late summer or early fall for the life cycle to complete, the adult beetle remaining encased in its final one or two larval exuviae, where it overwinters, still inside the cell in the host’s nest burrow.

You would think that the bee species hosting this diabolical beetle would be decimated by it, but such is not the case. Each spring there are plenty of the adult bees. What is more of a threat is the potential disconnect between the bees and their nectar plants. Colletes inaequalis visits flowering trees almost exclusively, especially Eastern Redbud, and maple trees. As the phenology of the blooming cycles becomes increasingly unpredictable thanks to climate change, the appearance of the flowers may cease to always coincide with the emergence of the bees that pollinate them.

Sources: Messinger Carril, Olivia, and Joseph S. Wilson. 2021. Common Bees of Eastern North America. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. 286 pp.
Parker, J.B. and Adam G. Boving. 1925. “The Blister Beetle Tricrania sanguinipennis - Biology, Descriptions of Different Stages, and Systematic Relationship,” Proc U.S. Nat. Mus. 64(2491): 1-40. This is a wonderfully exhaustive article, with illustrations of all larval instars.

Wednesday, May 22, 2019

World Bee Day....A Little "Bee"hind

World Bee Day happened the other day, May 20, and it caught me off guard. I had never heard of it, and hustled to make some social media posts for the Facebook groups I founded or administer. I will plan a bigger campaign of celebration next year, but for now....

In fairness, World Bee Day has not been in existence very long. The date honors the birthday of Anton Janša of Slovenia, a pioneer of modern beekeeping in the eighteenth century. The United Nations passed a resolution submitted by Slovenia in 2017 to so honor him. While beekeeping in the northern hemisphere applies only to honey bees in the genus Apis, the U.N. has chosen to use World Bee Day as an opportunity to acknowledge all bee species, the vast majority of which are solitary and not managed by human beings.

North American bees range from giant "large carpenter bees" like this one....

Given the plight of pollinators in general, and the threats to apiculture (beekeeping) from mites, pesticides, industrial-scale agriculture, habitat destruction, and climate....anomalies of increasing frequency, it is easy to be pessimistic and sorrowful on World Bee Day. However, there are signs of hope all around us.

....to tiny Perdita mining bees like this one.

More people are taking up apiculture as a hobby, for example. Even better, many homeowners and small-scale farmers are recognizing the importance of native bees and building simple housing for them in the shape of "bee condos." Now a small movement is building to advocate for allowing those bare patches of soil in your lawn and flowerbed to lie fallow. The overwhelming majority of solitary bees in North America nest in burrows they excavate in the ground. Sometimes many females will nest in close proximity, giving the illusion of a "hive" or a swarm. This is not the case, and unless you step on a bee in bare feet or forcibly grab one, it is not going to sting you. Different bee species prefer different textures of soil, from sandy to clayey.

Leafcutter bees, Megachile sp., using "bee block."

Among the many reasons to celebrate World Bee Day this year is the rediscovery of the world's largest bee, Wallace's Giant Resin bee, Megachile pluto, nesting in termite mounds in Indonesia. It is an important reminder that the natural world is resilient, to at least some degree, and that most species can persist even in unfavorable circumstances.

Female cactus bee, Diadasia sp., entering her burrow.

Colorado, where my wife and I live, ranks fifth in bee diversity in the USA, boasting at least 946 species from huge bumble bees to tiny mining bees in the genus Perdita. California (1,651), Arizona (1,182), New Mexico (991), and Utah (979) rank ahead of us. That makes for a lot of bee species that need conservation if we want to continue enjoying wildflowers and eating everything from blueberries to squash to almonds.

We can encourage bees by....

  • landscaping with native trees, shrubs, herbs, and flowers.
  • Erecting bee blocks as supplementary housing for solitary bees (and wasps) that normally nest in the dead trees we cut down and logs we haul off.
  • Become "weed tolerant" of plants that volunteer in our yards, as long as they are not state-listed noxious weeds. Chances are they are native or naturalized wildflowers instead.
  • Leave a few bare patches in the lawn (if you still insist on having a lawn) and flowerbeds so that ground-nesting bees have a place to call home.
  • Advocate for changes to municipal and HOA codes and rules that currently discourage eco-friendly landscaping.

It goes without saying that eliminating pesticides and other chemicals from your yard and garden will greatly benefit all life, not just on your property but elsewhere, too, as pesticides drift on the wind and flow in runoff from rain and watering.

Female sweat bee, Agapostemon sp., living up to her name.

World Bee Day is behind us this year, but no worries. You can gear up now to celebrate National Pollinator Week next month, June 17-23, 2019. Tell me how you plan(t?) to respect that designated "holiday." Maybe you need to do what I should do, which is call my governor and ask why Colorado is not yet on the map for it....

Cuckoo bee, Nomada sp., leaving (left), small carpenter bee, Ceratina sp., arriving (right).

Thursday, March 31, 2016

Polyester Bees

Note: I encourage you, my followers, to collaborate with me in telling stories of the insect and arachnid world. If you have images or videos that illustrate arthropods you would like to know more about, please contact me and I will happily create a post around your visuals. BugEric247ATgmailDOTcom. Thank you.

Colletes female in burrow © MaLisa Spring

Spring is progressing in fits and starts here on the Front Range in Colorado, but elsewhere flowers are blooming and bees are buzzing. Thanks to Jenny Roberts of Massachusetts, Rhonda Matteson of Indiana, and MaLisa Spring of Ohio sharing their images, I am able to write about one of my favorite insects, the "polyester bees" in the genus Colletes, family Colletidae.

Burrows of Colletes © Jenny Roberts

Polyester bees are among the very first solitary bees that one sees in spring, and just about the last to be seen in autumn. While some species are bivoltine, having two generations per calendar year, many are univoltine: there is one generation per year, either in spring or fall.

How did these bees get their name, you may ask. Female solitary bees in many families produce oral and/or abdominal secretions that are useful in waterproofing the underground chambers where their larval offspring develop. Colletes females first lay down a layer of saliva over the walls of a cell, then add a coat of "varnish" from the Dufour's gland in their abdomen. The result is a natural polymer that resembles cellophane. It forms a plastic baggie of sorts that keeps the mostly liquid pollen and nectar supply fresh for the single larva that will feed and grow inside the cell.

Dense nesting aggregation of Colletes, plus males © Rhonda Matteson

No matter where you live in North America, there are polyester bees to be found. There are 99 known species on our continent, north of Mexico, with the greatest diversity in the desert southwest, followed by the central plains and southern New England.

Colletes are most conspicuous in their nesting grounds. They tend to prefer sandy soil, but even bare patches in lawns will do. Even though each female excavates her own burrow, hundreds, even thousands, of bees may occupy a small area. This gives the impression that they are social, and sometimes causes a panic attack in homeowners who see them as a potential threat.

Ball of mating Colletes © Rhonda Matteson

The males literally go where the girls are, so they add to the numbers. The guys are also highly aggressive in pursuing females, creating mating balls like the one captured in pixels by Rhonda (and in Mark Berman's video, link in "Sources"). Males have longer antennae than females, and lack the brush of pollen-collecting hairs (scopa) on each hind leg. Males also land frequently on the ground in nesting areas. The females are too busy going about their business to pause for long, if at all.

Male Colletes sp., Colorado

The other likely place you will find these bees is, of course, on flowers. Ironically, on this very day in the year 2000, I collected several specimens that were foraging in the flowers of a redbud tree in Forsyth, Missouri. Many Colletes will take pollen and nectar from a variety of sources ("polylectic"), but an equal number or more are "oligolectic," meaning they are faithful to only a select variety of related flowers (at family- or genus-level of classification).

Face of female Colletes showing forked "tongue" © Discover Life

Identifying polyester bees is not terribly easy. They closely resemble mining bees in the genus Andrena, and larger sweat bees in the genera Halictus and Lasioglossum. The conclusive characters needed for a concrete ID are also pretty subtle. Colletes have a forked "tongue," the mouthparts bifurcated at the end. Unless the tongue is extended and visible, though, how would you know? The wing veins are another tell-tale clue. The forewing has three submarginal cells, located beneath the marginal cell that is immediately below the leading edge of the wing. Beneath the submarginal cells are recurrent veins. In Andrena the second recurrent vein is relatively straight, while in Colletes it is distinctly sinuous, or S-shaped. Polyester bees have a heart-shaped face in a head-on view, while mining bees have a more round face.

Female Colletes from Missouri showing s-shaped second recurrent vein

Conservation of pollinators is critical in this day and age, and more people need to know about our native solitary bees. Large aggregations of Colletes may nest in the same place year after year, so it is imperative that homeowners, park managers, and others understand that the bees need to be left in peace. Significant populations can be wiped out in one fell swoop otherwise.

Female Colletes emerging from burrow © Jenny Roberts

Thanks again to Jenny, Rhonda, and MaLisa for sharing their images. Be sure to check out other online resources to learn more.

Male Colletes on "skunk bush" sumac flower in Colorado

Sources: Wilson, Joseph S. and Olivia Messinger Carril. 2016. The Bees In Your Backyard. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press. 288 pp.
Berman, Mark. 2013. "Mining bees, (Colletes)" Video.
ProfMatteson. 2009. "Ground-nesting Colletes" Video.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Wasp Wednesday: Not Wasp VI

Many bees are easily mistaken for small wasps, especially the “masked bees” of the genus Hylaeus in the family Colletidae. There are not many characters that can be used to separate these bees from wasps that are easily visible in the field. Mostly it just takes a practiced eye to tell them apart.

Masked bees, also known as yellow-faced bees, are nearly hairless, accentuating their resemblance to wasps. While wasps have hairs, too, those hairs are simple and unbranched. The hairs of bees, in contrast, are plumose and almost feather-like. Unfortunately, this character requires a minimum magnification of sixty power to observe. Live bees and wasps don’t usually cooperate for microscopic examination.

Hylaeus are not parasitic on other bees, so a logical question would be how does a hairless bee transport pollen and nectar back to its nest? The answer is that the female bee ingests mostly nectar, and stores it in a special internal organ called the “crop.” Once the bee arrives back at the nest, she regurgitates her load and stores it in a cell. Several such loads will provide enough nourishment for the single larval offspring in each cell.

Masked bees are solitary, meaning each female makes her own nest. Without strong jaws, or a rake of spines on the front legs, Hylaeus bees are pretty much forced to use pre-existing burrows of other insects in the soil, cavities in the pith of twigs, or in abandoned galls. Indeed, most species of Hylaeus nest in hollow stems or twigs. Individual cells are lined with a natural plastic, a type of polymer secreted by glands in the female’s abdomen.

Male and female masked bees can be distinguished by their facial markings. Females generally have yellow, white, or ivory markings on the inner margin of each eye. Males have the entire face colored yellow or white.


Photo by Tom Murray via Bugguide.net

There are around 900 species of Hylaeus, collectively distributed worldwide, with about fifty in North America. The genus reaches its zenith of diversity in subtropical Australia, and the Hawaiian Islands. There are, or were, sixty species in Hawaii. Several of those are threatened or endangered, in part by invasive ant species that have been introduced from elsewhere and prey on the bee eggs, larvae, and pupae. Seven species of Hylaeus are considered “critically imperiled and possibly extinct,” according to the Xerces Society.


Photo by Tom Murray via Bugguide.net

Because the female bees collect so little pollen, it has been problematic to determine which species are generalist pollinators, and which are specialists. Recording which flowers the females visit has only provided a little insight. Analysis of pollen grains in the larval feces of three species in Michigan revealed that pollen foraging skews toward members of the Rosaceae when those flowers are available, and Asteraceae otherwise (Scott, 1996). The western U.S. species H. bisinuatus apparently visits White Sweetclover, Melilotus alba exclusively, even when other flowers are available. The Australian species H. alcyoneus visits only Banksia flowers. Still, the vast majority of species are assumed to be generalist pollinators.

Masked bees will readily nest in artificial bee boxes, be they bundles of thin straws, sumac twigs, or blocks with small diameter holes drilled into them. Consider constructing one of these and hanging it on a south-facing exterior wall, tree trunk, or similar situation. Be sure to include a “roof” to protect the entrance holes from rain, and elevate it at least three feet from the ground. Many websites exist with further hints on how to build such nest boxes.

Lastly, don’t fret if you can’t always tell the difference between masked bees and wasps. There are records whereby species of Hyleaus were originally described as wasps by scientists.

Sources: Scott, Virginia, 1996. “Pollen Selection by Three Species of Hylaeus in Michigan,” J Kans Entomol Soc 69(4): 195-200.
The Great Sunflower Project
”Aculeata Agonistes: Yellow-faced Bees”