It was a simple invitation from urban beekeepers, broadcast through Facebook and Twitter — come out on a frigid January night and talk about the fate of bees. Nearly 150 people showed up, more than twice what the donated room at a south Minneapolis restaurant could hold.
"I was astonished," said Rep. Jean Wagenius, DFL-Minneapolis, who was there to talk about legislation. "Something is going on."
In Minnesota, 2014 may be the year of the honeybee — and the bumble bee, the butterfly, the thrip, the wasp, and all the other pollinators whose declines are galvanizing a movement to protect them — before it's too late.
From the halls of the capitol to back yards to state and federal agencies, pollinator protections and habitat are being woven into conservation plans, guidance for farmers, state statutes and research projects. Even Gov. Mark Dayton has proposed funds for a new lab for Marla Spivak, one of the University of Minnesota's top bee researchers, plus $6 million to protect and restore prairies.
The worry about bees started in 2006 when hives across the country suddenly started to collapse, with losses of 30 to 50 percent a year. Since then, a flood of research has pinpointed a deadly combination of pesticides, diseases, and, perhaps most critically, the simple loss of enough flowers to supply pollen and nectar. The country has lost tens of millions of acres of grasslands and forests to development and agriculture. And the weeds that are the bane of farmers but sustain insects of all kinds have been eradicated by Roundup, used on millions of acres of crops genetically engineered to withstand it.
A grassroots effort
Without bees, there would be a lot less to eat. Honeybees pollinate the crops that provide 35 percent of the food that winds up on the table — apples, onions, cranberries, almonds and more — a service worth $15 billion to $18 billion to the ag industry. Wild insects do their part, as well, providing a service worth about $3 billion, according to a report by the Minnesota Department of Agriculture.
"It wasn't until people understood the stark relationship to the food supply and the relationship to pesticides that the wave crested," said Bill Becker, executive director of the Lessard-Sams Outdoor Heritage Council, which administers $80 million in state environmental funding each year. "People poured forth with a desire to do things."
That's what Kristy Allen found out when she organized the meeting earlier this month to start an awareness campaign to protect urban bees. She started the Beez Kneez, a Minneapolis bicycle honey-delivery and bee education group. She and other nearby beekeepers lost hives last fall to fungicide from an unknown source. With help from Spivak at the university and an agriculture department investigation, she was able to identify the chemical. But state law protects the identities of pesticide users and application records.
