The plight of declining honeybee populations gets a lot of press, but it often overshadows the concerns ecologists have about our own native bees. Illinois is home to about 500 species of bees that are important pollinators in natural areas, in agricultural fields, and in our gardens. Like honeybees, native bees are threatened by pesticides, habitat loss, disease, and ever-changing weather patterns.

These fascinating creatures range in size from the ¼-inch mining bees and metallic green sweat bees to inch-long bumblebees. Their names are beguiling—cuckoo bees, hibiscus turret bees, cellophane or polyester bees, campus bees, pugnacious leaf-cutter bees, and carpenter bees. (I picture carpenter bees wearing little tool belts around their waists.)

is a postdoctoral researcher with the Garden’s Negaunee Institute for Plant Conservation Science and Action, and he finds bees simply fascinating. One day in mid-July, he was in his small garden in Chicago. 

“There were 30 kinds—red bees, green bees, bees the size of rigatoni and of orzo. Green eyes, blue eyes—you don’t have to go far to see these amazing animals.” 

The bees were in a very small bed filled with wild bergamot, swamp milkweed, sunflowers, and purple coneflowers. Other plants that bees love include false indigo, mountain mint, Culver’s root, blazing star, and asters. 

“These plants are native to the state and easily found at a nursery,” Dorian says.

The endangered rusty-patched bumble bee (Bombus affinis) is supported by gardens containing wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa). Photo credit: Nick Dorian.

Golden northern bumble bees (Bombus fervidus) foraging on native field thistle (Cirsium discolor). Photo credit: Nick Dorian.

Habitat Helper

When we think of conservation, we often think of vast places like prairies or woodlands. Dorian, however, sees great opportunity for conservation at home. “It turns out that urban gardens and green space attract dozens of species that can thrive in those places.”

One example is the endangered rusty-patched bumblebee that appears in large prairies but has been spotted at the Garden, at the Rogers Park Metra station in Chicago, and in Evanston gardens. “It occurs on native plants and cultivated plants,” Dorian explains. “It’s hanging in there in part because of flowers people have at their home. We can do amazing conservation work in our backyards and on our balconies. These efforts will play a role going forward in pollinator conservation.”

Illinois Bees

Some native bees have long tongues capable of reaching nectar and pollen on tubular flowers like those of bee balm. Others with short tongues feed on flowers that are flat, like black-eyed Susans and coneflowers. Some bees have figured out a way to slit a thin tubular flower at its base to reach the nectar. And, for the record, male bees and male wasps do not have stingers.

“When bees are on flowers, they’re at the grocery store—gathering protein-rich pollen and nectar. They’re not interested in you,” Dorian says. He notes that planting flowers is not going to lead to more stings. “And, you’re not going to attract hives with a small flower garden.”

Unlike honeybees, most Illinois bees are solitary. The female selects a place to build a nest in the ground, in wood or hollow branches, and in dry plant stems. She creates nest cells, filling each with a mixture of pollen and nectar on which she lays an egg. The larva typically overwinters, emerging the following year. That’s a good reason to leave the previous season’s spent plant stems in the garden come spring.

Sunflower longhorn bees (Melissodes trinodis) can be found on sunflowers and relatives. Photo credit: Nick Dorian.

Look out for bicolored striped sweat bees (Agapostemon virescens) on purple coneflower (Echinacea purpurea) around the 4th of July. . Photo Credit: Nick Doria.

On the Lookout

Throughout the growing season, you’ll find different bees visiting flowers. “You can plant a pot of sunflowers and watch the sunflower bees show up in July and August,” Dorian says. “The females come in at 7 a.m.—their hind legs are so stuffed with bright yellow from all the pollen they’re collecting that it looks like they’re wearing chaps. All afternoon the males are hovering around looking for a mate. The males have very long antennae and are on the flowers at sunset—it’s a slumber party.”

Some bees look more like common flies. Last month, Dorian watched bicolored striped sweat bees inspecting blossoms. “They have a metallic green head and thorax and a black and white abdomen. She’s everything a honey bee isn’t.” She doesn’t live in a hive, she’s only active for a brief period, and she never stings. “If you grow Echinacea, you’ll find this bee on the flowers around the Fourth of July. She loves that plant. Looking for the bright green bee at that time of year gives you a way of measuring the impact your garden is having.”

Leaf-cutter bees (Megachile pugnata) carry pollen beneath their abdomens. Photo credit: Nick Dorian.

Pollinator gardens can come in all shapes and sizes. Even a small pot of flowers on a balcony will attract many kinds of pollinators.

Grow a Bee Buffet

It makes sense that native bees are attracted to native plants; these species have evolved together over thousands of years. But, many native bees are “generalists”—they visit a wide variety of plants, including nonnative flowers like zinnias and lavender. Other bees are specialists, such as the spring beauty mining bee, which only collects pollen from spring beauties.

A good place to see the plants and bees this summer is at the Native Plant Garden, which features a woodland path with shade-loving perennials, a sunny prairie, and a pollinator area, designed to appeal to native bees and butterflies.

Some gardeners seek to transform their entire front yard, replacing lawn with natives and nonnative perennials and annuals—but that’s not for everyone. “You could plant a couple of pots along the walkway or on a patio or balcony—any size contributes,” Dorian says. A thousand urban or suburban sites, each making small changes by adding flowering plants, can help support native bee populations.

“Watching them on flowers—it’s this incredible dance of insects and their activities,” Dorian says. “There’s drama, there’s romance, there’s intrigue, and there’s endless fascination.”

Nina Koziol is a garden writer and horticulturist who lives and gardens in Palos Park, Illinois.