The season's first bees on winter heath

Bombus vosnesenskii - The yellow-faced bumblebee

Every year by about February, after suffering through months of the abysmal gray Pacific Northwest rain chamber, I begin to wonder if I’ll ever see a bee again.

Maybe you like bees too and have had this same thought. Wherever winter strikes, Apid-abandonment becomes a serious problem. Nature has given us the snowy owl and the arctic fox, but has yet to evolve a snow bee that can keep us entertained in the off season (wouldn't that be something?). It has, however, given us a magic winter plant.

Winter heath, Erica carnea, is that plant. Native of woodlands of southern and central Europe, it is in peak bloom at a time when many of us are dreaming away at the home and garden festival. Some time ago, in the vastness of evolutionary history, it seems a rather persuasive pollinator must have talked it into blooming at a time when things shouldn’t, and that has been good news for those who loathe the winter enough to show it who’s boss.

Winter heath growing in a European woodland. "Schneeheide vor Birke" by Botanischer Garten TU Darmstadt is licensed under CC BY 2.0 CC BY

Because of its magic Prozac-like powers, heath is planted just about everywhere in my area. In my town, I can find it at the gas station and the mall parking lot. Of course there are plentiful amounts in my own yard, and then down the street in my neighbor’s yards. Loads of it are for sale at the nurseries and the big box stores, where it’s marketed as “heather.” That it is not, but the name gives a pleasant response. Its ubiquity has made it an important plant for the season’s earliest bees, and especially for queen bumble bees.

Winter heath growing in a local mall parking lot

These photos will attest to its importance. There’s virtually no other flowers during its bloom period that have the same attraction. Sure, winter gives us a few blooming wild native shrubs on the coast, such as Indian plum and hazelnut, but one can watch these shrubs in full bloom all day and not see a single bee. After watching the winter heath in action it's easy to wonder what the bees ever did before it was planted here. It is basically the same as plopping a bird feeder in your yard, attracting an unnatural but entertaining amount of bees to cheer up the scene.

Osmia lignaria (male) - Blue orchard mason bee

So what is it it is about winter heath that gives it such traction with the bees? Being that bees visit flowers for two things, nectar and pollen, a look inside reveals a plentiful amount of both. A close look at the cross section image below shows the nectar at the very base of the flower, just below the brownish colored ovary. It’s almost bubbling with it.

Dissection of an Erica carnea flower

It’s also no slouch when it comes to pollen. Check out the video below and see for yourself the little white grains flying out when the bees insert activate the anthers with their proboscises.

In addition, let's not overlook the fact that these plants produce an extraordinary quantity of flowers. This means that instead of having to fly between branches to get more food, the bees can simply take a step and there they are, at a fresh branch of three dozen new flowers. It’s easy to imagine a bumble bee having to burn some gas to get airborne, and nature has a well known tendency to play favorites with the efficient.

Bombus melanopygus - The black-tailed bumblebee

So to sum things up, if you‘re having a hard time with winter, you can always shorten it by bringing a little heath to your garden. At the same time, you’ll be providing a wealth of resources for the season’s first pollinators at a time when the bees need it most.

Mining bee - Andrena sp.

Furrow bee - Halictus sp.