Despite its vivid alarm coloration, the Great Golden Digger Wasp is not an aggressive species of wasp. They tend to mind their own business and can be found sipping on flower nectar during the summer, but in the early spring, females prepare to lay eggs.
Females will dig into loose soil and create many deep tunnels. When established, she then covers them to hide their existence. A female will track a small insect and sting them to paralyze them, but not to kill them. Once the prey is immobile, she will clutch it using her antennae and mandible (mouth parts) in order to fly it back to the tunnels. While in flight with her prey, it is not uncommon to see birds like robins or tanagers attempt to steal her meal from her by chasing her until she drops it. No other known species of Digger Wasp is known to be harassed by birds in this way. If the female is successful in returning to her tunnels with her catch, she will place the paralyzed prey aside to quickly inspect a tunnel. If it looks like it's still intact, she will pull the paralyzed insect, head first, down into it. She then lays an egg on the insect, exits the tunnel, and covers it over again. She repeats this process for each tunnel. Unlike other wasps, she does not actively defend her nest. Once hatched, the wasp larvae will feed on the living, yet immobile, insect until they are developed enough to leave the tunnel lair in the summer. Eventually, the parasitism of the paralyzed insect kills it.
Scientists are studying the behavior of this unique species. Great Golden Digger Wasps seem to display a type of internal programming. If their insect prey is moved away from the tunnel while the female inspects it, she will emerge, relocate it, bring it back to the tunnel entrance and start the inspection all over again. Every female exhibited the same repetitive 'start inspection again' behavior when tested in that way.
Females have also shown that they do not keep a tally of how many insects they catch versus how many tunnels they create. If some meals are stolen by birds, they do not realize that they are short on insects compared to tunnels.
With such gorgeous orange and black coloration, mild demeanor, and interesting behaviors, the Great Golden Digger Wasp is one to admire, not destroy. Perhaps a careful observer will discover even more fascinating things about this species.
Weed Out
As geologists and environmentalists battle, “are we in the Holocene epoch or have we made our mark on Earth and entered a new geological period, the Anthropocene?”, I ponder weeds.
The term weed, in the Holocene, is a plant that sticks out in a monoculture. From a bipedal primate’s perspective, a weed isn’t like all the surrounding plants: we undervalue it—because it “looks” different. From a human who spells her name Cindee with two ee’s, I have to say I am attracted to weeds and not just because of the ees. Since my first installation in Symbiosis, on February 14, 2021, I have thought a lot about the word, verb, and the thing weed, asking myself so many questions and finding answers in this urban garden.
In nature and in Symbiosis, I observe weeds and now see them as Earth’s first responders to large or small ecological disasters. Weeds are seeds, roots, stems, leaves, berries, and blooms—organic matter. Weeds are vegetative volunteers in the ecological services division of Earth; they provide emergency services for its living organisms above and below ground. Hear me out — when the Earth’s green skin is left bare, tilled, stripped, eroded, poisoned, burned, flooded, neglected, or disturbed by natural or human occurrences, Mother Earth cherry-picks from embryos sleeping in the soil her first responders—our weeds-seeds. Like our own“compounded prescriptions,” seeds are biologically programmed for the site’s specific ecological condition—temperature, moisture, and daylight—to grow fast and spread quickly; they are speed healers. As they mature, I see emergency room physicians administering oxygen masks for underground organisms, protective bandages for the Earth’s epidermis, and poison antidotes. Their organic matter lowers the Earth’stemperatures, thereby keeping soil and its living microorganisms alive. And they provide shelter, food, and nectar for the site’s microorganisms, wildlife, and humans. These ecological first responders are full-service providers, slowing rainwater, reducing soil erosion, replenishing the aquifer, cooling the planet, sequestering carbon, and stabilizing it in the ground for those debating geological periods to come.
From a sculptural perspective, if the shape, texture, or color of a volunteer first responder “weed” does not satisfy my artistic vision, I no longer yank it out of the ground in a knee-jerk response. I stop—look—think, why was it sent in? I take a holistic approach. I weigh the service it is providing our above and below ground micro-ecosystem, the armature that supports the life of the sculpture. I then consider what human adjustments I might implement to holistically balance these roles nature’s first responders are providing to achieve my artistic vision, supporting my sculpture. I consider the needs of other species from the bacteria, fungi, nematodes, and insects to the small mammals, birds, and humans whose life work supports my work. I know that the small systems have to be right for the global systems to run smoothly and I see that too much is at risk to resort to pesticides. I create ways that weeds’ delicately shaped blooms can work in my living land art.
From a practical standpoint, weeds are convenient, cost-effective tools in my human-made nature scape, a catalyst for environmental change, Symbiosis. So, while intellectuals debate the ages, I get out of weeds way, pull over to the right and let the weeds do their job.
In Wikipedia, weed is “of unknown origin.” Ironically, weeds are of unknown origins in most landscapes. So I break down the word weed into three parts.
We – all of us, me, you and I.
ee – In the English language, double e’s are a tool to
denote one connected.
ed – denotes verb, performs an action.
Holocene or Anthropocene? In this age of uncertainty, if humans “weed out” weeding, can all species win the battle? — I wonder…
Additional Weed Readings
WEEDS Control Without Poisons, by Charles Walters.
WHEN WEEDS TALK, by Jay, L. McCaman — includes charts with the functions of each species.
I purchased my copies on Acres USA.
Wood-sorrel exhibits nyctinasty, likely helping the plant conserve energy. It forms a taproot and is upright when young, but as it grows, its long, multibranched stems eventually flop over and trail out along the ground for as much as two feet, extending rootlets from nodes along the stem. This root is beneficial in breaking up the clay. Sorrels contain oxalates, a naturally occurring molecules that bind with calcium. If your soil needs calcium, keep the wood-sorrel.
Youngia japonica a member of the aster family and related to the dandelions. Dandelions Taraxacum officinale shows up when soil is low in calcium and compacted. The local bees, butterflies, birds, and I enjoy the blooms while the dandelion roots break up the clay. Their leaves are loaded with antioxidants and used by herbalists for many health issues.
I believe the above plant to be Cudweed. Cudweed is host for the American painted lady butterfly.
Why we shouldn’t rag on ragweed? The seeds of ragweed are rich in fatty oils. Fats are not only Ebut also is for fattening up birds and small mammals such as Eastern Cottontail, Meadow Vole, grasshoppers which eat the leaves, Dark-eyed Junco, Brown-headed Cowbird, Northern Bobwhite, Purple Finch, Mourning Dove, American Goldfinch, and the Red-bellied Woodpeckers to get them through the lean winter months.
It is an ancient grain for humans and ragweed is a valuable food source for the caterpillars of many butterflies and moths including the striking wavy-lined emerald and the uniquely adapted bird dropping moths. The seeds of ragweed are rich in fatty oils. Birds and small mammals readily consume ragweed seeds to help fatten up for the lean months to come.
I will use this post to document my experiences with weeds.
Faux bois Wedding gift ❤️❤️#17
Herman Park bees
Early last winter I was at the Herman Park family garden- it is a jewel of a garden. They had everything; yummy plants, honey bees, fruits, and veggies galore. They had almost everything, I say almost- they did not give a native bee condo.It was my pleasure to gift to the Herman Park family garden an air, Bee, And Bee. It is awesomely installed right next to the berries. I also have them a bunch of reeds full of blue orchard bees. I hope their air bee and bee outs out the no vacancy sign soon. My vacant little bee condo houses lizards—no bees in my area. :(
Endangered Knowledge: The Soul of Humus #1a and Sculpture Month Houston
In a moment of global uncertainty, I ask myself, what materials would I use to leave a message for future civilizations? As I think of artists who painted caves, of muralists from the past, of artifacts from ancient civilizations, I am curious about how we leave a mark. My answer is tied to the natural world: much of my previous work has been about conservation issues, looking specifically at bees, at waterways, at recovery from Hurricane Harvey, at bison and now, at grass. And so, if I were to write a message to the future, I would use grass to write it, and bison to carry the message.
Endangered Knowledge: The Soul of Humus
For this year's Sculpture Month, I propose a site-specific sculpture of a bison, made from a welded steel armature, a work of land art covered in topsoil and dried native grasses. This is part of a comprehensive installation that I am currently developing, which considers the role of the American bison within Houston's specific soil ecological history. The work is titled Endangered Knowledge: The Soul of Humus.
It is inspired by the words of M. Thomashow, who writes, "Record natural history to the collective memory so that it is no longer endangered knowledge." For several years, I have been researching grass-fed food production, attending soil conferences, and visiting regenerative ranches. Research in these fields show how to fight desertification and reverse climate change through regenerative agriculture practices. Interestingly, this natural history of living soil, how it evolved in the Houston Coastal Prairie, and its essential part within microbial communities in human health, is not common knowledge.
Description of Work
In the hide of a sculpture, I tell the narrative of soil health. My sculpture will record this endangered natural history through the dense coat of the powerful humus-built bison, that will be dripping in the armor of locally sourced dried native grasses and sedges, seeds, and pods. The male bison will be supported by a welded steel armature, covered in a stainless-steel lath. The bison's skin, made from these dried grasses, will be attached to the lath with a Houston mud composite. I propose the 11' long bison be exhibited in the center of a large grain silo, the bison in an actively grazing stance, head down in plow position, his hump rising robust and bushy out of his heavy forequarters to 6.5' tall. Lighted from inside the grain silo funnel, viewers can approach the bison and intimately inspect the diversity of the native plants implanted in its pelt.
Ecological History
Historically B. bison functioned as the first farm equipment. The grass seeds clinging to their burly coats were carried across the plains as they migrated north to south and back between seasons, like tractors up and down fields. Herds of tractors not green, but a rich brown harvested the plains with their appetites, each bite stimulating new root growth. The old roots withered into cavities that served as dwellings for a variety of keystone species, and became underground cisterns collecting floodwaters for drier seasons. Their coats dropped kernels and cuttings as the winds ruffled their beards and chaps, and when they took dirt baths in buffalo wallows dug with their horns. Massive roaming compostors, a single bison cow daily dumping 40 lbs. of fresh manure onto these seeds and drilling them into the earth with their spade-like hooves, sprinkling them with the perfect prescription of nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium-rich urine and then moving in a predator safe tight herd on to the next buffet. With time the newly sowed fields sprouted new growth of blades, stems, and leaves of countless shapes, sizes, and heights. This diversity of leaves fit like puzzle pieces into dense living solar blankets, harnessing carbon from the air and returning it as sugars to feed the dynamic root microbiomes below the earth’s skin. The complicated relationship between the soil microbiome and the human intestinal microbiome is one of the most dynamic topics in biomedical research. Flocks of birds mutualistically
living off the pests harbored on the bison followed the herds, drinking from and bathing in rainwaters that collected in the bison wallows, building their nests from clumps of bison fur. Recent studies show the fur provides a health benefit to unborn chicks. Bird and butterfly habitats were abundant when the bison roamed.
Relevance
Global warming, food security, drought/flooding, wildlife habitats, economic instability, and health – these problems are not new to humankind. The archeology of ancient civilizations has recorded connections between the longevity of civilizations and the health of their soil. The United Nations reported in 2014 that the world's topsoil would only last 60 more growing seasons. Soil scientists around the globe agree that solutions to these issues are rooted in our treatment of soil—the skin that covers our planet.
Message to the Future
The armor that protects the epidermis in the Gulf Coast prairie is grass. The animal whose population peaked at 30 million, is B. Bison. Combine native grasses with ruminants and the grasslands decompose into rich organic matter; for every 1% increase per acre of biological organic material, the soil can hold an additional 20,000 gallons of water. Restoring native prairie vegetation decreases water runoff and flooding, increasing soil absorption of water and slowing floodwaters on land. With extreme building practices and concrete hardscaping, reimagining the landscape of Houston's 600 square miles of real estate can make a significant impact on the region’s flooding. The prairie grasses' roots can extend from eight to fourteen feet deep: these roots sequester carbon like an upside-down rainforest. Changing our agricultural practices is an important step towards turning global warming right side up. Telling the dynamic story about these relationships between the grazing herds, the living soil, and finding ways to reimagine urban landscapes and agricultural practices in holistic and regenerative ways are the center of my current research and sculptural practice.
The impact of the bison on sustaining topsoil—and, therefore, life—need not be Endangered Knowledge. The role bison play within the prairie ecosystem—their ability to increase photosynthesis, reduce competition for water, and regenerate depleted, unsalvageable, lifeless prairies back to productive and bountiful, nutrient-producing land and wildlife habitats—needs to be carved into our modern systems. Recording this Endangered Knowledge into the consciousness of humankind will stimulate grassroots efforts and stop the cultivation of soil depletion and return the natural process to the treatment of the skin of our planet. A Parietal artist in 2020, I will use grass to record the Soul of Humus so that it will no longer be Endangered Knowledge.
Additional work
Soul of Humus will be the first piece in my Endangered Knowledge body of work. The complete body of work will eventually consist of the following sculptures: 4 pedestal-shaped sculptures of roots and soil, measuring approximately 12" X 12" X 36"; installations made from native grasses and their roots (size and number to be determined); 1-5 bronze castings of bison dung with their spade-shaped hoof prints, dung beetles, and mushrooms. I am also currently in conversation with a bison rancher to secure a bison heart to float in a glass case of formaldehyde: the bison, the largest mammal of the western continent, is the heart of our soil diversity, it is the western symbol of a healthy planet. The health and longevity of civilization, as we know it, is dependent on finding ways to mimic the natural process stampeded into the bayous of Houston. In this sculptural series, I look closely at the components of this process and the environmental interrelationships unique to the Houston area and world health.
Footnote-
Bison vs Buffalo which name is correct? The common name Buffalo has been widely used, since early settlers were naming them as their European and Asian counterparts. The correct name of the last American surviving bison is B. Bison.
Further Reading and information –
- Allan Savory on how to fight desertification and reverse climate change
- Soil as Carbon Storehouse: New Weapon in Climate Fight? - Yale E360
- A Prehistory of Houston and Southeast Texas,– D. Worrall, coming fall 2020
- Can Livestock Grazing Stop Desertification?
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/can-livestock-grazing-stop-desertification/
- Dirt: The Erosion of Civilizations, by David R. Montgomery
- Soil Biology and Land Management https://www.nrcs.usda.gov/Internet/FSE_DOCUMENTS/nrcs142p2_052489.pdf
- Wildlife that Depend on Bison
Sample Work and Visual Support Materials for Proposed Sculpture
Two small sculptures that are made with the same structure, process, and made with native plants-
The bison will be furrier than these small birds are and would be dripping in a thick coat of textured dried grasses.
Three large sculptures that are made with the same armature and process, but I have used metal instead of dried plant cuttings on the surface for texture.
There are many textures of native grasses at the Katy Prairie Conservancy and Buffalo Bayou.
If you accept my proposal, I plan on asking the Katy Prairie Conservancy and the Buffalo Bayou Partnership to allow me to source my grasses and plants from their properties.
Below are Some of the source images I will use while sculpting the bison.
most of these I took doing research at Roam Ranch this summer, fall and winter.