Beach sunflowers and a photo-bombing bindweed
By late September, the arrival of rain and moderating temperatures meant masses of sunflowers (Helianthus debilis) and purple bindweed (Ipomoea cordatotriloba) began blooming again on Galveston’s west end. Along the roads leading to a nature preserve known as the Artist Boat, breakfast was being enjoyed by a multitude of pollinators and other creatures.
A closer look at the two ligated furrow bees (Halictus ligatus) shown in the first photo suggests they had risen early to collect pollen. Members of the sweat bee family, they also require sodium for good health; while often attracted to sweat produced by humans, they’re also able to meet their sodium requirements by visiting flowers located near a beach, or where flowers receive a salt-water spray.
Ligated Furrow bees (Halictus ligatus)
Nearby, a honey bee enjoyed its own sunflower, with no need to share.
Honey bee ~ Apis mellifera
While the bees sought pollen, other creatures were lying in wait for the bees, not to mention flies and other visitors to the flowers. Here, its body nicely aligned with a sunflower ray, a crab spider hides in plain sight.
Northern Crab Spider – Mecaphesa asperata
Whether this is a different species or a differently colored northern crab spider I can’t say, but it seems to have opted for a more active approach to finding an early meal.
The similarity in the colors of the crab spider and this geometer moth larva is interesting. When threatened, these larvae sometimes stand erect, extending their bodies outward to mimic a twig or leaf petiole. Whether this one was feeling threatened is impossible to say, but it appears to have had a taste for sunflower rays.
A geometer moth larva, perhaps surveying the buffet line
The family name Geometridae comes from the Greek geo, meaning ‘earth,’ and metron, meaning ‘measure.’ Common names for geometer moths include ‘inchworm,’ ‘looper,’ or ‘measuring worm’ — names which describe the larvaes’ looping movements as they appear to measure the earth. With no legs in the middle section of its body, a geometer moth caterpillar anchors itself with its rear prolegs, extends its body forward, and then pulls its back end up to meet the front, creating the ‘loop.’
Very early in the morning, the flowers of purple bindweed are equally pretty. As the day progresses, they begin to fade, and to show evidence of visiting pollinators.
Purple bindweed ~ Ipomoea cordatotriloba
I’d always assumed that the ‘specks’ I noticed on older flowers were bits of sand or dirt, but on this morning, as I watched bumblebees probing the flowers, I noticed their feet sometimes cut into the fragile petals, leaving behind little ‘tracks.’
Who knew that bumblebee feet could cut into a petal?
Even more surprising was the discovery that faded flowers attracted the bees as readily as newly opened blooms; they visited the ‘leftovers’ with equal enthusiasm.
Good to the last drop
Smaller bees, like this green metallic sweat bee (probably Agapostemon texanus) often approached things differently, burrowing down into the flower to enjoy its sweetness.
Putting the metal to the petal
While purple and gold predominated, bright yellows were present and equally attractive. Here, a gray hairstreak (Strymon melinus) sips nectar from a common vine known as hairypod cowpea (Vigna luteola).
The small shrub or tree known as Palo Verde (Parkinsonia aculeata) often flowers repeatedly, especially after heavy rains. After months of drought, even an inch of rain apparently qualifies as heavy; this prolifically blooming Palo Verde (named for its green trunk and branches) had tempted dozens of carpenter bees to visit. Here, one of their number (perhaps the southern carpenter bee, or Xylocopa micans) buzzed happily among the flowers.
The number of hoverflies, gnats, spiders, ants, dragonflies, and bees present that morning was truly remarkable; at nature’s breakfast table, it seems there’s something for everyone.
Lagniappe 
Beautiful pictures! I have all the doors and some windows open this morning. It’s so wonderful outside! I did not know about the Artists Boat. Thank you for sharing this gem!
I realized only a few minutes ago that I haven’t heard the air conditioner come on tonight. I opened the windows when I got home, and that did the trick: tonight’s low is going to be in the 60s. Hallelujah! It was terribly windy today, but tomorrow ought to be gorgeous. Enjoy every minute! It’s been five full months since College Station had such a low high temperature, and well over four months for us.
Not only that — I spotted goldenrod in bloom for the first time today. Autumn’s truly coming.
It’s delicious, right? I think it got down to about 55 here last night. We usually keep a window unit on in the bedroom at night, but like you, we didn’t need it. Yahoo! Today looks like it will be another beautiful day like you said! We’ll all be outside! ❤️
Thanks Linda. So good to see everyone down your (Down Galveston Way*… Wow, suddenly got attacked by song lyrics? *Sylvia’s Mother came up strong when I searched, but in my mind’s version, that phrase was definitely part of an old country song) Anyway… loading up with golden goodies and – with that much pollen packed to go – intended for building nests & feeding brood, would be my guess.
It took me a while, but I finally surfaced the song that your comment evoked for me: Harry Belafonte’s “Jamaica Farewell. It begins, “Down the way, where the nights are gay and the sun shines daily on the mountaintop; I took a trip on a sailing ship and when I reached Jamaica I made a stop…”
I’d say these insects are living la dolce vita. Granted, they’re involved in life-sustaining activity, but the explosion of flowers around here is remarkable. Post-rain, it’s beginning to look like a second spring. Even the freshwater ponds have some water now. There’s a long way to go to reverse the drought, but the dragonflies and alligators — and mosquitos — surely are happy.
What an incredible range of activity. I’m always amazed by the number of different species of bees out there. When younger there were only honey bees and bumble bees. And speaking of younger, we always loved finding inchworms and watching them move.
One of the best discoveries I’ve made was of the blue and green metallic bees. I think they’re completely charming, and often quite beautiful. As for those inch worms, I have a couple of photos of a really snazzy one I tried to photograph one day. I was astonished by its speed; I had a terrible time keeping up with it. I wish I’d timed it. I’m sure that if inchworms kept records, it would have broken some.
Stunning photos! And breakfast always tastes better when it’s at a boat.
Truth! There’s nothing better than breakfast on the water, whether at anchor or underway. And if I can’t be on a boat, being around the water will do quite well, even if the water’s a bayou.
You may remember the song that Dinah Washington popularized in 1959, which begins:
What a difference a day makes
24 little hours
Brought the sun and the flowers
Where there used to be rain
Seems appropriate for the floral and faunal bounty you’ve described and shown after your coastal rain.
I’ve also noticed bees visiting flowers that people might call “spent,” and yet the bees obviously find it worth their while or they wouldn’t do it.
I also often notice a portion of a crab spider, especially one or two legs reaching around from behind a petal. That’s enough for me to try different vantage points that might reveal the main part of the spider.
I not only remember the lyrics to that song, I remember the tune. It certainly describes the sort of changes taking place around here. Despite the wind, I went down to the Brazoria refuge again today and found the goldenrod coming into bloom. Apparently inches of rain was just what it needed. I spotted two species — tall, and seaside — and in another week I’d not be surprised to see all of it in full bloom. The Baccharis halimifolia is in bud, and I passed a vacant lot in a small town that’s just full of what may be Maximilian sunflowers. It’s possible they were Helianthus angustifolius instead, but you can bet I’ll be going back this week to check them out.
My most amusing insect photo’s akin to your crab spider photos. It’s a beetle with its legs wrapped around a couple of skeleton plant petals while it noshes away. I need to find some use for it.
I found bunches of Maximilian sunflowers standing tall on the prairie here yesterday, as well as some goldenrod fully flowering. Let’s hope both soon do the same over by you.
Thanks for those nice photos. Lots of busy bees.
Busy, indeed. It’s been especially good to see so many butterflies and dragonflies, as well as bees and such. I suspect we’re in the same boat when it comes to hummingbirds, though. We had a front come through yesterday, with really strong north winds. When I stopped by the refuge today there wasn’t a hummer to be seen, and friends with feeders have noticed their disappearance, too. They may be across the Gulf by this time, or in Mexico.
They are good at predicting when to head south. I have notes on my calendar for the last sighting each year. The notes all cluster in the first to second week of October.
Aye, nothing like a good tail-wind to lend a helping hand, hey? (Funny, I’d never thought of that expression being used to help birds until just now!)
I suspect we took our metaphor from the birds!
It does fit.
Glorious!
Our recent trips have seen increasing numbers of flowers. As I focus on a bloom, photo-bombers of all shapes and sizes swoop in and out of the frame and creepy-crawlies creep and crawl from under leaves and petals.
Your superb array of subjects mirrors what we’ve been encountering. The photographs and descriptions are superb.
Who wouldn’t love to visit a location called the Artist Boat? Their mission seems significant.
Enjoy the coming cool days!
More species are coming into bloom; it really is something to see. Today, it was goldenrod, lining the highways and popping up in pastures and vacant lots. The wolfberries (Lycium bernlandieri)are flowering again, as well as the coastal germander (Teucrium cubense). Obviously, both have been around; it’s just that their flowers make them easier to find.
Being out today was pure pleasure. I’m heading up to east Texas tomorrow; tonight’s low in the Big Thicket will be 50F, and the high tomorrow 77F. I’d best find a jacket to take with me, since we’re on the edge of changing-clothes-three-times-a-day season. Hooray!
What a wonderful look into the tiny lives of our relatives! Your photos are always so cheerful – made me smile again! Thanks for the link to the Coastal Heritage Preserve (Artist Boat) website. I’ve searched for Artist Boat several times, and never even came close to the location identified as their headquarters. Now, armed with their address, I can go back to see what I can see. I will confess, I’m a bit bewildered… the website lists kayak tours and volunteer refurbishment opportunities, but no paths, walkways, viewing locations, parking lot, visiting instructions, nothing to indicate that people are welcome to come out and observe nature. Is foot traffic welcome?
You have to have been at part of the Artist Boat, or at least in the neighborhood. One of their sites is the Edward and Helen Oppenheimer bird observatory and hiking trail at the corner of Stewart and Settegast Roads. The entrance can be a little hard to see, but it’s on the right just before Settegast if you’re coming from Galveston. There are a couple of freshwater ponds, and a short boardwalk to a viewing area overlooking one of the ponds. I always combine a stop there with a visit to the Lafitte Cove Nature Sanctuary just a half mile or so down the road. Depending on the season, there’s quite a mix of plants and birds.
If you turn north on Settegast off Stewart, you’ll start to see purple-painted posts along the road; that’s the Artist Boat property. Where Settegast makes a 90 degree turn to the west, I often stop and wander the fenceline. Some of these photos were taken there. Continue down the road, and you’ll see signs for parking for volunteers or people involved with their programs, like the kayaking. There isn’t a paved parking lot; only an area where cars can be left during activities.
At this point, there isn’t free access onto the land, but there are plans for boardwalks and such in the future. From what I gather, getting the land came first, and it’s been a huge project. You might be able to gain access by phoning their office. They’re very nice people; their director sent me a list of the native plants inventory from the hiking area. If you go past the house that’s their new headquarters and head north again on Settegast, there’s a pasture before you hit the developments where I’ve seen sandhill cranes five years in a row.
Thanks for these detailed instructions. You are right, I’ve been past there many times… just never realized I was seeing either Artist Boat or the Oppenheimer observatory. Further exploration is required!
Note: the entrance into the birding spot isn’t paved. Sometimes it develops ruts, but it’s always been ok even for my car, which is a sedan. There’s a keypad on a post on the outside of the entrance that helps to spot it before you get to the intersection with Settegast, which is only a few feet down the road.
Wonderful captures, Linda. Lots to see within a bloom!
And as you know, sometimes we see things when we’re standing in front of the flower, and sometimes we don’t see them until we’re looking at the images on our screens. Just tonight, I found a perfectly camouflaged katydid on a stem — and I almost missed it even in the photo!
Nature amazes, that’s for sure.
What delightfully gluttonous bees! They’re having quite the picnic, aren’t they? And it is beautiful territory in which to picnic or find marvelous photographs. These are all beautiful, Linda. Well done and well identified!
It’s an entire eco system! Wonderful images
(Oh, did you know there are bee hives stacked on some of the tallest buildings in downtown Houston? Bee keepers said the bee in these hives did better than many in fields because there are so many flowers in watered neighborhood yards close by while many outer areas suffered from drought so there were fewer flowers available. We need those bees!)
I didn’t know about the Houston hives, but the rationale makes perfect sense. There are beekeepers in Paris doing the same thing. I wonder if Houstonians might have gotten the idea from them? I suppose beekeepers all around the world keep up with the latest tricks of the trade.
When it comes to the importance of residential flowers, there’s an interesting movement now to create native plant “oases” in the suburbs, designed with the flight patterns of bees in mind. It turns out that bees fly only certain distances, so if you have places for them to find flowers within those distances, it helps them to thrive. There’s a young gal at the Houston Zoo who’s been working with the project. I’ll see if I can dig up the details.
I didn’t know bees rapidly fan their wings inside their hives in hot weather in an attempt to cool the hive’s queen and interior – which all takes a lot of energy from each bee fanning – and leaves less time to fly outside for food. Houston bee keepers are constructing their hive towers with spacers between layers to allow more circulation.
The native plant oasis sound logical – bees need all the help they can get – and native plants are so much better as a choice for landscapes anyway. Staying tuned!
Love seeing all that insect action on these blooms! Those pollen pantaloons on the honeybees and the gorgeous, though deadly-for-some crab spider are fun to see. Beautiful photos, Linda!
The crab spiders are among my favorites, although the various jumping spiders and the Green Lynx offer some stiff competition! It’s been amazing to see flora and fauna coming back to life after our rains. The only downside in my book might be the mosquitos — but I try to remind myself that the bats, birds, and dragonflies appreciate them.
Speaking of coming back to life, I saw the mountain laurel at Brazoria this weekend, and it looks marvelous. It’s covered with new growth, and clearly has survived the insults of the past couple of years.
How nice to see so much insect life in action having communal breakfasts or dinners together. I am not so sure I will use the insect spray again. I have two full cans handy, in case the insects hovering above my food get too close to landing on my nice salmon.
It makes one more considerate.
My Tibetan Spaniel Mr. Bentley has little patience and is very deft in catching anything flying about.
It is interesting to see how many insects can share the ‘goodies’ on a given plant. Sometimes different species share, and sometimes numbers of the same species show up, but it’s always fun to watch. Of course, there are predators lurking around too, but that’s the way of the natural world.
I do have an insect spray I use when I head out into the marshes and such, but I’ve found a brand that doesn’t harm things like sunglasses and cameras. From time to time, there’s just no way to be out and about without it. But generally I avoid it a home; live and let live is my rule, unless there’s a real threat. Black mambas. Rattlesnakes. Brown recluse spiders. Those are the limits of my tolerance! (And, no — you shouldn’t spray your salmon!)
this rain has made everybody happy. I haven’t seen any bindweed blooming so far which is unusual and I hate cowpea.
I laughed at your comment about the cowpea. I always enjoy seeing it, but it clearly is an assertive plant, and if I were trying to maintain a garden, I’m sure I’d be less kindly disposed toward it. I’ve seen some stands of bindweed that are especially large this month, especially on rural fence lines. It’s another one that’s either pretty or pretty awful, depending on where it shows up.
It’s interesting that the flowers we enjoy for their looks are actually food sources for so many little insects. Do the spiders attack the bees?
It’s true. Flowers provide nectar and pollen for bees and such, but they also are munched on by insects like beetles and caterpillars. Today I watched a (still unidentified) caterpillar chowing down on a foxglove plant. I was amazed to see how quickly it ate its way down the stem!
As for the spiders, some don’t weave webs at all. They hang around on flowers and wait to nab any hapless insect that comes along. That’s what the crab spiders in the photos I posted today are doing. They can disguise themselves wonderfully well, and they’re amazingly quick. Some of the big garden spiders can even take down dragonflies; sometimes, they’ll wrap them up in silk and eat them later. Amazing, really.
It truly is!
That must have been an exciting morning with so many subjects. For me, and I think possibly you also, the prize would be the metallic sweat bees but the flowers are both lovely also. That bindweed is so richly colored. I’ve yet to experience the tickle of a sweat bee but am looking forward to it. I don’t want to overlook that handsome crab spider.
What I most enjoyed was watching the bumblebees at the bindweed. Their visits to the fading flowers were quite short, but I was there early enough to watch them bumbling around the fresh flowers, where they spent more time and left those tracks. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Their little feet are designed to hold them steady on stems and flowers, so of course they’d be sharp enough to leave a mark on a fragile petal.
I do wish I could see more metallic bees. There’s a gorgeous blue one that sometimes swarms Persecaria, but that’s more of a spring/summer phenomenon. If ponds start filling again, those plants may begin blooming again.
I wonder if the bind weed is related to the morning glory, or is it just convergence. I do like that purple though.
It is related. These are in the same family as our native beach morning glories, or the pretty cultivated sorts that grow on trellises or pergolas. The prettiest sight ever was a huge spread of sky-blue morning glories on a fence in Goliad. There’s a native called Lindheimer’s morning glory that’s an even more delicate lavender; it’s just lovely.
Looking at that 2nd Crab Spider photo again and can’t help but laugh at what looks like him/her either walking directly at you or off in a huff at the fact that you’d blown its cover and looking for a better place to settle…
Whichever, I was pleased to get a good look at it. And how about this? At about 9 a.m. yesterday I was minding my own business, driving along a highway in east Texas, when I suddenly thought, “Down Mexico Way.” It came out of nowhere, but now I’m wondering if that might have been the song you were thinking of. It’s been covered by everyone from Patsy Cline to Sinatra, but I remember it from childhood as a Gene Autry song.
Yes! That’s it. My Grampa LOVED Gene Autry!
Remarkable diversity in just one flower. I often see sleeping bees on Helianthus early in the am.It’s super cute.
I’ve only seen a couple of sleeping bees, and one moth sleeping on a rain lily petal, but I absolutely agree about their cuteness. I enjoy being out in the early morning partly because it’s such fun to find still cool and lazy insects on the plants. Apparently the inclination to stay in bed is one of those cross-species behaviors!
Gorgeous photos! My favorite is the crab spider – it took a minute for me to see its legs because you’re right about how well aligned it was!
Crab spiders know how to hide, that’s for sure. Sometimes they’ll tuck themselves into thistle fluff or under petals, but they’re just as able to camouflage themselves as a part of a plant. I like the blue or green metallic bees for their colors, but I admire the crab spiders for their cleverness.
What a bounty that rain has brought! I’d never heard of the sweat bee and its sodium requirements. Another new-to-me is the crab spider. Wonderful shots. And bee tracks in bindweed blooms! Who knew.
There are so many species of sweat bees and crab spiders you surely have some in your garden. Here are some fabulous photos of California species that might be lurking about. I really like them; their colors and patterns are remarkably varied.
And if you ever are licked by a sweat bee, you can enjoy the tickle without feeling threatened!
Fascinating – I had wondered how sweat bees got their name and I’d not known that bumblebees’ feet could cut into petals. Close observation of nature is so worthwhile!
Sometimes common names are so well-chosen we miss the obvious meaning! When I first learned that sweat bees existed, I had no idea why they carried that name, even though it was right in front of me. Eventually I learned the reason for the name, and became more patient with them when they were around. My reward for that patience was getting to see one enjoying itself on my sweaty arm.
I’ve still not found any reference to the bumblebees’ sharp feet, apart from how they help them cling to plants. No matter; I know what I saw!
Personal observation is very important!
Thanks for explaining about the sweat bees, Linda — I never knew that before! Of course, I much prefer honeybees (they’re just so cute and fuzzy!). And I never thought bees’ feet would put this kind of track on a flower — isn’t Nature simply marvelous (and so are your photos!)
Every time I discover some little ‘something’ in nature, like those bumblebee feet, I can’t help thinking about how many things I must be missing. There’s a whole hidden world out there, and who knows how many creatures carrying on with their lives just outside our ability or willingness to notice them.
Like you, I love those fuzzy bees, although I’m really quite fond of the metallic green and blue. They’re pretty darned flashy for an insect!
What a fascinating array of flowers and insects, stunning photos, as always.xxx
Once our rains arrived, the world seemed richer in so many ways. Every time I come upon masses of bumblebees buzzing around, as they were around these flowers, it makes me smile to think how happy they must be.