by Ranger Eric Whiteside

Backyard Bliss 

Spring is glorious—the onslaught of colors, the symphony of singing birds and buzzing bugs, the feel of the soggy earth as it trembles to life once again. There is so much beauty to soak in and so little time. At the very least, I have to get out to the north side of Mount Diablo to see the fairy lanterns and the ephemeral waterfalls; hike up Indian Joe Creek Trail at Sunol Regional to look for shooting stars; wander the rolling hills of Morgan Territory looking for larkspurs. But what about a trip down south to the desert? What if I don’t time it right and miss the super bloom? I could have instead gone camping up north in the redwoods to look for trilliums… The last few years I have been trying to accept that I just can’t see it all. Instead, I have been bringing some of the spring splendor to my own backyard garden rather than furiously rushing around in search of it. I can get home from work and just chill out in the waning afternoon sun without the nagging feeling that I am missing out on the glory of spring. 

Bringing Spring Home 

I can't pretend to pick my favorite wildflower to find along the trails—it's usually just whatever is currently blooming in front of me. I can, however, tell you that my favorite flower to plant is the simple Elegant Clarkia (Clarkia unguiculata). This native annual wildflower is super easy to grow and quickly rewards you with bursts of pinks, whites, and reds. And, once you have one flowering clarkia, you have the start of an infinite supply of future flowers. If you don’t harvest the seeds (I usually harvest the first batch and replant them right away), the pods will happily spread their enclosed seeds on their own. Each pod acts like an overflowing cup; every breeze or nudge will spill out a pinch of seed. My backyard is full of these things now!

Not being a homeowner, I have been growing my clarkias mostly in containers for many years now. Of course, any native plant is going to be happier rooted straight into the soil, but renting can make in-soil gardening difficult. My current apartment has a small strip of a backyard which is half cement patio and half what I have dubbed ‘alternative landscaping.’ When we first moved in, the ‘landscaped’ section was a layer of ground cloth covered in a few inches of gravel. I am unclear what the point of this aesthetic is—some people must find it ‘clean’ or ‘hassle-free,’ but I hated it! I realize that it was an attempt to make the yard sterile and stop weeds from growing, but in my first year, I discovered it didn't even do that. After yanking out a yard full of weeds, I made the executive decision to make some alterations. I shoveled the gravel aside and peeled the cloth back in a few spots and planted my garden.

I was worried that the dirt hiding underneath would be a barren wasteland in desperate need of compost, but it has turned out to be very healthy and verdant soil, ready for planting. Along with some herbs, tomatoes, and other edibles, I simply had to mix in some colorful natives. My clarkia seeds took to the newly liberated soil happily and grew even more lush than their container-bound peers. Besides giving me the splashes of color I was looking for, I discovered the second order effects of having so many bright native flowers in the yard: native pollinators! In addition to the steady stream of European honeybees that would buzz around the tomatoes and squash, I saw several species of native bees, including my new all-time favorite—the carpenter bee.

The Big Buzz 

Large carpenter bees, known for carving into wood to make their nests, are grouped into the genus Xylocopa. With around 500 species worldwide, three occur locally. Because of their size, they are often confused with their hairier cousins, the bumblebees. But carpenter bees actually have them beat in that category: the largest species of bee native to California, the Valley carpenter bee (Xylocopa sonorina), measures in at one full inch. In fact, the carpenter bee who frequented my backyard was so hefty that as it landed on some of the smaller clarkias growing in the yard, they would bend the stalk to an almost 90-degree angle and cause it to sway back and forth under the bee’s weight. When the bee released the flower, the stalk would fling back up-right, catapulting seeds across the yard. The bee would continue lazily buzzing around, bonking into things as it clued in to the next tasty bloom. My cats loved this. They tried several times to playfully snatch the bee out of the air, but luckily for all parties involved, I never saw it happen.

By early summer, nearly every day after work I would change from my work clothes and bee-line straight to the backyard to sit in my chair and bask in the late afternoon sun, tracking the progress of my garden. The carpenter bee was usually hanging around nearby too, bobbing from flower to flower. Clarkias will continuously pop out new flower buds as the stalks grow, providing a steady and flourishing stream of color, nectar and pollen. With a handful of plants scattered around the yard—both in the ground and in pots—there was plenty to keep my little buzzing buddy occupied.

On several occasions I watched one of the classic traits of male carpenter bees in action: aggressively defending their favorite flowers from other pollinators. A smaller honeybee would drift down towards one of the bright and welcoming clarkia flowers, and the carpenter bee would dramatically crash into the interloper, sending it buzzing out of the garden and over the fence. The carpenter bee would then resume its daily rounds of the latest blooms, content that its territory was secure. My once barren backyard was starting to take on a whole new personality!

Setting Down Roots 

One day, late in the summer, I noticed my cat totally transfixed on something in the corner of the yard. I had used a few old stumps and a broken picnic table plank to make a little bench that doubled as a perch for the cat to look through a hole in the fence and a little shady nap spot underneath. She would often take naps under the bench, but now she was perked up and staring at the stump that held up the board. Worried that she might be staring down a black widow, I tried to call her away from the bench so I could check. Just as I did, we both watched in surprise as a carpenter bee lazily flew out from underneath. She made the classic cat-watching-something-it-wants-to-catch chirping sounds but luckily did not act. The bee went to work on the flowers, and I got down on my hands and knees to investigate the bench. I knew that these bees were called carpenter bees because they lived inside of wood, but I had never witnessed the marvels of their handiwork before. There was a small pile of wood shavings at the base of the log and a small hole above, about the size of the bee itself. I could remember when I assembled the little bench being upset that I had a tough time finding purchase with the screws that I used to hold the board to the log because it was so rotten that it was crumbling apart instead of anchoring my screw. It may not have been the best log for the base of a bench, but it was perfect for a carpenter bee nest!

As I discovered in my research, usually the female bee who drills out the hole will lay her eggs and die sometime in mid to late summer. Her children will emerge soon after and start to gather their own cache of late summer pollen in an attempt to overwinter in the same hole where they were born. At some point, ‘my’ carpenter bee had passed away and was replaced by her child. And looking at some of the photos I took, there may have been a few different individuals with different colorations. The more the merrier, I say!

Full Circle 

With the coming of the first rain, I decided to hack down my tomato plants as they stopped flowering. My clarkias had all gone to seed, ending the parade of colorful flowers. I stopped seeing the carpenter bees and hoped that they had gathered enough pollen to successfully hunker down until the weather finally warms back up again this spring. I have already noticed some clarkias have started popping up from errant seeds from last summer's crop. It has been so inspiring to witness firsthand how these plants, pollinators and their amazing adaptations can sustain each other's populations—both in the wild and in our backyards if we give them the chance. Of all the myriads of opportunities that await us this spring, the one that I am most excited about is growing in my own backyard!

Do yourself a favor and pick up some native wildflowers! You might have to baby them at first, but if you get some succession going from the fallen seeds, they will literally grow like weeds. There are tons to choose from, but a clarkia is a great starting point. If you are lucky, you might even attract your very own adorably busy and bumbling carpenter bee.

Wildflower Hikes in Sycamore Grove

Native wildflowers abound in the park! Learn more by registering for a ranger-led wildflower hike at Ranger Programs and Events - Livermore Area Recreation and Park District.