Bee Friendly WORDS LYNDA HALLINAN
Imagine a world without bees; according to some environmental pundits, we’d all be dead within a decade because bees pollinate more than half of our food crops. That is true, to a point. Bees are certainly responsible for pollinating the majority of our most delicious food crops, but traditional staples, such as rice and corn, rely on gusty weather rather than worker bees. While we might have to kiss goodbye to smashed avocado on five-grain toast, there'd be no shortage of bread as wheat, oats, barley and rye are all wind-pollinated. In our gardens, we could still grow lentils and most legumes, as well as leafy green vegetables including spinach, silverbeet and all brassicas (because we eat them before they flower, though saving enough seeds could be compromised). However, our orchards would bear little if any fruit — and even soft fruits that don't rely on bees to fertilise their flowers, such as strawberries, wouldn't taste as sweet. An intriguing study by agroecology researchers at the University of Göttingen in Germany found that strawberries pollinated by bees grew redder, tasted sweeter (the
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ideal sugar-acid ratio), were more uniformly shaped and had a longer shelf life than strawberries grown behind an insect barrier without visitation rights for bees. Why? Because strawberries are made up of as many as 200 tiny ovaries stuck together, and when bees pollinate their flowers, those ovaries go into overdrive, producing natural hormones that ripen the flesh around their seeds. What's more, strawberries taste even better when pollinated by a tag-team of wild bees (who work the base of the flower) and honeybees (who tap and gap it from the top of the flower). Even self-fertile crops, such as coffee, benefit from bee activity, producing greater yields of higher quality beans. So, in a world without bees, you could still order your daily espresso, but chances are you couldn't afford it — and if you're plant-based, you'd have to forego any frothy almond milk. As I write this, on a sunny day in the first week of August, the almond grove on the bank below my house is in full bloom. Almonds (Prunus dulcis) are the first to break bud after winter, luring my neighbour's million-plus bees out of their hives to work their magic on those blossoms, one by one.
