Have you ever been in a class or doing an assignment that you thought would be the most TEDIOUS thing you’ll ever have to do? Is there anything that you think about doing and just shudder at the mere prospect of it? Well, for me, that was the field journal process. Going into the Bernard Field Station (BFS) on my own, spending upwards of an hour doing…well I wasn’t even sure what, or whether I was doing it right. Those were my feelings about Experimental Ecology's outside-of-class learning…at least, at first.
The Bernard Field Station, a beautiful Southern Californian expanse [1]Let me give you the context. Finding time was hard because of how busy I am. I am a full-time student who is already the president of a BSU, president of a 5C volleyball club, doing field research for my major capstone, simultaneously working two different on campus jobs, and a part time YouTuber and video editor on not one but two channels. I often found myself asking…when am I gonna have the time to do this??
Finally, I settled on Monday mornings. Was it the only time I had that was truly free to myself? Yes. Did I also wanna pass this class? Also yes. So that’s how every Monday for the past few weeks, I’ve been hopping on my electric scooter and heading up to the field station with my bag and a dream (the dream being that I find something interesting so that I don’t have to draw golden currant flowers for the umpteenth time).
I also felt I was at a bit of a disadvantage compared to my peers, being not just the only Pomona student, but in fact the only non-Harvey Mudd student in the class. I felt different as far as my comfortability in going into the BFS on my own to do independent research, identifying plants from just their leaves, my inability to spout 72 facts about Yerba Santa at any given moment (Mudders are cool…that’s just not my bag). Ask me 72 facts about soccer, or One Piece, and I got you. But plants? Oh brother.
And that’s when it happened. One quiet Monday, I was walking along the path on my way to Phake Lake to see what I might find there, when I heard a large amount of buzzing in the nearby flowers. As I turned to look, I saw multiple bees buzzing around a flower bush, landing lightly on the flowers before flitting quickly to the next. Despite what I know about bees, and particularly their stingers (more on that later), I was fascinated. Something about just watching these creatures, minding their business, going about their duty…it was mesmerizing. Ok, maybe mesmerizing is an exaggeration. But it certainly did captivate my attention.
Only after I left did I start thinking about it deeper. When I really think about it…bees really are all around me! There hasn’t been a single time I've gone to the field station where I haven't seen them. But what’s even more interesting is how they seemingly don’t bother anyone else; they’re simply locked in on the task at hand, their compound eyes on the prize.
My field notebook from February 26th, depicting a swarm of bees amongst other organisms [2]
I’ve actually been out to the BFS quite a few times through different classes, but never in the way I am now. In my ecology and evolutionary biology courses, we collected samples of insects and even frogs and then brought them back to the lab to analyze. In genetics, we worked with aquatic arthropods from the lake and ran electrophoresis gels on them, which was a completely different kind of experience. For conservation biology, I spent time recording and analyzing bird calls for a project, and in another class, I designed an experiment looking at bird species and their dietary preferences. So I’ve done a lot of field-based and experimental work at BFS…but interestingly, I’ve never once focused on bees until now.
However…there was in fact one encounter I have had with these knife flies which sums up my entire experience with them. I was in Professor Wilson’s ecology class 2 years ago, collecting bug samples to use in a future lab. We were walking around the circumference of the lake, looking for the best collection sites. There was a certain patch of trees where we were told a bee hive is somewhere in the area, and as such we needed to wear long sleeves to avoid being stung on exposed skin. Well it was just my luck…as of course when I pass by the trees, I feel a sharp prick on my hand. When I look down, I see a single thin stinger protruding from my hand, the one place that was naturally left exposed because…well because gloves at the field station would have been doing too much. I alerted Professor Wilson, who immediately stopped the data collection we were meant to be doing to take me to the Student Health Services building. While I had never known whether I am allergic to bee stings, I did not want this to be how I found out. So better bee-lieve…one could say that the bee is my mortal enemy!
Me and my group mates collecting samples moments before disaster! [3]
In this class, we have to come up with an idea of what we want to study for an individual project. And my experience with these creatures helped me decide. I wanna study pollinators and especially bees, and basically see whether the fires that occurred at the field station (did I mention that there were FIRES??) impact the amount you see in different spots. Some of the research that I have done for my project says that the burned area may in fact experience more bees, since the succession of flowers following a burn event promotes bees.
When it came to identification, this was actually one of the most fun parts of the process. With help from Professor Donaldson, I started learning how to distinguish between three common types of bees on my own. Honeybees (Apis mellifera) are the smaller, more golden-colored ones that you’ll see moving pretty efficiently between flowers. Bumblebees (Bombus spp.) are a lot chunkier and hairier, with those classic black and yellow bands, and they tend to move a bit slower and more deliberately. Then there are carpenter bees (Xylocopa spp.), which are noticeably larger and usually either solid black or solid yellow, with a smooth, shiny black abdomen - no fuzz back there. Honestly, every time I saw one, it took everything in me not to think of “black and yellow, black and yellow” like the song by Wiz Khalifa. Or any of the other science parody songs that were made by people like Mr. Parr and Mr. Lee and were played in middle school. Great. Now I’m nostalgic. Well, time to hopefully not get stung! Pray for me!
Carpenter Bee [4]
Honeybee [5]
Bumblebee [6]
Media Credits
[1] Photo taken from Bernard Field Station Website.
[2] Photo from Karl Niat’s field notebook.
[3] Photo taken by Brooke Bailey.
[4] Public Domain Image. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Female_California_carpenter_bee_2.jpg
[5] Public Domain Image. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:European_honey_bee_extracts_nectar.jpg
[6] Public Domain Image. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bumblebee_October_2007-3a.jpg
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