A Letter about the Birds and Bees
July 13, 2013
Dear Hort,
I'm writing this aboard a train heading to Quebec. It's a gorgeous time
of the year to ride the rails in Canada. Golden drifts of Black-eyed
Susans brighten the side of the track, interrupted by occasional vivid
orange flashes as we whip by a naturalized clump of daylilies. Pale tan
giant cylinders of hay make mown farm fields look like a Magritte
painting. In one area near the Kingston limestone flats I think I saw
wild white phlox blooming, and every few kilometers brings a new ecozone
with different flowers to enjoy. Zipping past a swamp, I saw a
brilliant mound of what looked like Canada lilies growing on a bluff
above the water...
I'm on my way to Quebec City, whence a rental car and I
will take a pleasant afternoon drive along the south shore of the St.
Lawrence. We'll stop at Grand-Métis where my world-traveller cousin Paul
[photo next email: Paul mugging it up with one of my giant heritage
tomatoes] awaits us in a cabin looking out over the great river, which
here partakes largely of the sea with two meter tides and fascinating
tidepools just beside the deck. Tomorrow morning we will be off to
celebrate Bastille Day at Les Jardins du Métis/Reford Gardens. I've
brought my "Prince des Jardiniers" gardening hat from France along to
shelter my balding pate from the hot July sun as we wander through the
kilometers of gardens and landscapes of what is arguably Canada's finest
grand garden. We have the promise of a personal tour from Alexander
Reford, the gardens' owner, to look forward too, then dining at an
auberge with a view of the sunset over the great river.
But I'm visiting Grand-Métis for more than just garden
tourism. I'll be giving a talk in the gardens about the birds and the
bees, and if you know me you'll guess it won't be about sex, it will be
about tobacco.
Some of you may have caught my discussion with farmer and
beekeeper Dave Schuit on
Canada AM last week. [apologies for the ad - be patient, please!]. Dave and I were there to
talk about the catastrophic losses he and other beekeepers are
experiencing, as more and more of their honeybees die off over winter or
during corn planting season. Dave and I agreed that although many
diseases and pests are bothering the bees, the straw that breaks the
camel's back is the widespread use of nicotine-based pesticides.
Do you grow tobacco plants in your garden? Last year I had three
different species (I'm sending
Nicotiana sylvestris, while the unusual blue leaves and golden tubular bells of Brazilian tree tobacco
Nicotiana glauca gave
foliage interest and flowers for daytime pollinators. But all tobacco
species share one botanical innovation: the acutely toxic (to insects)
nerve poison nicotine.
 |
Nicotiana sylvestris |
you several possible picture by separate
emails you could use here). Some were sweet smelling and attracted
night-flying moths, like the beautiful white
Yes, that's right: nerve poison. The stuff is to most
insects and water bugs as the horrible chemical nerve gases are to us.
That's why chemists at Bayer, Monsanto, and other companies modified the
structure of nicotine to make it last longer (up to years in some
soils), reside permanently in the plant it is applied to, and be as
toxic to bees as nerve gases are to us. These "neonicotinoid" pesticides
now coat the
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Two tobaccos |
seeds of most commercial field crops, including corn,
canola, soybeans, and even sometimes wheat. The manufacturers sell
billions of dollars of product every year.
If "neonics" (as most farmers and beekeepers call them) only
killed corn rootworms, I wouldn't be talking about them in the gorgeous
surroundings of Reford Gardens. But they go where they aren't meant to.
Bees gather them up in pollen and in the sweet-tasting little droplets
of sap young corn seedlings release at dawn. Birds eat them as they hunt
for seeds that the sowing drill didn't get all the way underground. One
droplet of seedling sap kills a bee, one coated kernel of corn can kill
a blue jay, one grain of wheat can make a songbird sterile. Washed into
streams and ponds, neonics kill the water bugs fish thrive on. And,
just in case you don't care about the natural world at all, recent
studies show small quantities cause abnormal development in the brains
of newborn rats...an organism often used to test for possible
teratogenic effects on human fetuses and infants. Mothers who smoke have
children with ADHD more often than non-smokers - and nicotine is the
reason. Do we want neonics in our food?
This spring, for the first time in history, there weren't
enough honeybees to pollinate the California almond crop when the trees
bloomed. The price of almonds is expected to double this winter. This
summer, a landscaper was called in by a Target store in Oregon to get
rid of pesky aphids in the trees around the parking lot which were
shedding sticky honeydew on shoppers' cars. Problem is, a neonic
pesticide was used ("knocks 'em right down"), the trees were linden
trees in full bloom, and over the next day or so perhaps 50,000 dead
bumblebees were found on the asphalt of the lot. Dave Schuit lost over
40% of his honey bees when neonic-treated corn was grown near his hives,
and has had to sell his farm to recoup his losses (he had to choose
between buying new bees or paying the mortgage, and opted for the bees).
Some of us are old enough to remember Rachel Carson and her game-changing book
Silent Spring.
Dave and his fellow beekeepers in Ontario and Quebec are asking the
federal government (which regulates pesticides) to follow the lead of
the European Union in banning neonicotinoids before it's too late and we
have silent springs, summers, and falls. We are well along this deadly
path already. Numbers of birds like swallows and purple martins that
depend on flying insects are down by 70-80% and still dropping. Please,
will you consider writing to your M.P. and asking her or him to push the
government to ban neonicotinoid pesticides to save the birds and the
bees?
I close this letter with a silent prayer that future years
will bring back the buzzing of the bees and the sounds of the songbirds.
Yours,
Clement Kent