Anyone May Apply

Day 324: Wanted: pollinators for small raspberry garden. Must be ambitious and diligent, with ability to distinguish non-threatening life forms. Working hours from dawn to dusk. Anyone may apply, regardless of experience.

The present work force seems to consist largely of European paper wasps in conjunction with nondescript menials and overseen by a few bumblebees, but it is obvious that they are getting the work done. Hundreds of pink-tinged unripe raspberries dangle well above the top of the deer fence, telling me that this is going to be another ladder-climbing year. Funny, I don't remember nine-foot raspberry vines from my childhood. Why are these Heritage everbrearings so flamin' tall? Perhaps if I pruned them to fruit twice a year instead of solely in the fall, I'd have a spring crop I could actually reach from ground level. However, pruning the everbearing varieties so that they only produce in late season results in a greater yield. The system has worked for me over time, so I'm not likely to change it up. Besides, there are always more pollinators looking for work in the late season.

Unhomed And Angry

Day 354: Hornets and wasps are often very hard to tell apart, but thanks to the nice people at BugGuide.net, I know that these are European Paper Wasps, Polistes dominula. We've always called them "yellowjackets," but we also used that term to describe a similar species. In any event, they are decidedly unhappy about the state of affairs at the Nisqually Land Trust's Ohop Valley property where I volunteer as a Site Steward, and today, one of them exacted revenge.

The Trust has been working on restoring Ohop Creek to a productive salmon stream for some time now, recreating the former meanders and thereby lengthening the overall run of the creek. They've removed tons of debris left over from unsuccessful farming ventures and deliberate illegal dumping. They've planted thousands of native trees such as Red Osier Dogwood, Red Cedar and various willows (I worked on a replanting project in the valley about 25 years ago). One major project was just recently begun: removal of several old barns and outbuildings from the upper terrace overlooking the valley which, until last week, had been home for an assortment of evil-tempered stinging wasps/hornets.

A bee specialist was brought in to remove as many of these nasty critters as possible, but apparently, he missed a few. I found this lot trying to reestablish a colony on the side of an old concrete bridge. I stood back at a respectable distance to take the photo and did not disturb them, but unfortunately while I was up near the old barns, I got distracted by a bird I believe was a Black-and-White Warbler, and while I was intent on trying to capture it in the lens, one of these varmints slipped up under my shirt and installed her stinger very close to my armpit from the back.

I am allergic. The allergy is strongest to honeybee stings and I've managed to avoid them since I was about three years old. "Yellowjackets" have left their mark on me less than half a dozen times in my adult life. Today was one of those memorable occasions. I am sitting here now, feeling like someone installed half a tennis ball in my armpit, and although it doesn't actually hurt like you might expect, it's a rather unpleasant sensation.