As I stroll to the backdoor, the bustle of bees congregating on our fountain stops me in my tracks. In the years Mary and I have enjoyed this fountain, this is the most of these gossamer-winged visitors I’ve seen. What’s the buzz?
Curious, I head to my office, go online, and search for “bees at water fountain.” The first page of results has the links that most searchers have visited. Many of those links tell readers how to get rid of bees at the fountain. Thankfully, a couple links describe why the bees are present and important: Bees need water as much as we—or our pets—do. And while drawn to our backyard watering hole, they pollinate our abundant flowers, an essential ecological service.
I grab my camera and return to the fountain. I use the telephoto as much to observe as to photograph. I’m captivated. Once a bee winds its way to the fountain, it lands and shakes its body. The bee inclines its head toward the surface of the water and its proboscis, a protrusion like a drinking straw as long as the bee’s head is deep, emerges and touches the surface. The bee drinks. Moments later, the bee twitches a few times, lifts off, and flies south, perhaps to a neighborhood hive since bees range in a small area.
While observing these bees, I find myself thinking of wolves. During my years of advocating for wolves, I have thought of wolves a lot. No surprise there. But why think of wolves while photographing bees? Intrigued, I slip back to the office and look again at the number of links explaining how to get rid of bees. There’s the connection: for hundreds of years we humans have been trying to get rid of wolves.
At the heart of that drive to exterminate wolves lies fear. America’s colonists feared that wolves would harvest their life-sustaining livestock before they could. So, with government help, they eradicated wolves. Today, ranchers fear that wolves will eat into their profits. And to make matters worse—from the point of view of some ranchers—the government reintroduced wolves against ranchers’ wishes and even protects these bothersome predators.
Like it or not, wolves are here to stay. We can—and must—learn to coexist with them. This is especially true for ranchers who run livestock on public lands that wolves have every right to call home. Wolves may kill some of their livestock, even with nonlethal deterrents in place to keep wolves and livestock separate and alive. All states with wolf populations have programs to compensate ranchers for losses to wolves. Of course, the money may not make them feel less violated. But it will help their bottom line.
Adjusting to the presence of wolves will challenge; but can be done. Some ranchers, much to their credit, coexist now with wolves. And though they may lose some livestock, they still make a profit.
And like bees, wolves—where they are allowed to exist—provide an essential ecological service. In Yellowstone, for example, reintroduced wolves have kept elk, their primary prey, on the move. This has improved the stands of streamside willows that elk decimated in the decades after wolves were killed off in the park. More willows, in turn, makes life better for beavers and song birds.
Well, there’s my connection between bees and wolves. Now it’s time to return to the fountain. I want to thank the bees for all they do and make sure they have enough to drink.
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I write, speak, and photograph to protect wildlife and wild lands. My bestselling In the Temple of Wolves; its sequel, Deep into Yellowstone; and its prequel, The Wilds of Aging are available signed. My books are also available on Amazon unsigned or as eBook or audiobook.
Photo Credits: Photos by Rick Lamplugh
Wonderful musings … shared to Sec Haaland.
Love your insights.