Flight of the honeybees

SOMETHING strange is happening to honeybees. They're vanishing. In parts of the country, bees are leaving hives and not returning. The phenomenon, dubbed Colony Collapse Disorder, has wiped out a quarter of the hives of commercial beekeepers since last summer, according to the American Beekeeping Federation, and set off a flurry of debate about how to stop it, whatever it is, and what it all means. Though scientists from UC San Francisco announced Wednesday that they had identified a parasitic fungus and a virus as two potential causes, the culprit or culprits behind a national phenomenon still have not been definitively confirmed.

As if out of some lost Rod Serling script, this warp in the daily rhythms of a tiny creature has potentially big consequences. Bees, after all, don't just make honey.

"One-third of our daily diet is based on crops produced by honeybee pollination," says Eric Mussen, an entomologist and bee expert at UC Davis who believes Colony Collapse Disorder has the potential to threaten U.S. food production. Crops that rely on bees, he says, represent "the lion's share of our fruits and vegetables."

But it's not just at the dinner table where these unsung constant gardeners may be missed. Bees are as essential as water or sunlight in home gardens, Mussen says. The sight of these hairy-legged bugs clambering around your flowers and fruit trees should not prompt calls to the exterminator but, instead, should touch off celebration.

Being a few shovel-lengths away from 50,000 bees would spur many gardeners to sprint for the nearest shed, but at the Crenshaw Community Garden, the throng of bees is a groundskeeping crew, tending robust clumps of Korean parsley, onions and berries.

"It seems like a lot, but it's only the size of a basketball," says Anna Bonner Mieritz, an L.A. gardener and bee hobbyist whose triple-drawer hive is abuzz with activity. "They really are sweet, friendly creatures."

Over at her plot, an intent squad of honeybees stuffs their heads down the flutes of lush lavender blossoms. Although Mieritz hasn't had any problems with Colony Collapse Disorder, she sees the epidemic as an opportunity to "open eyes about smaller, local agriculture," which isn't subject to the chemical and nutritional stresses of big agribusiness.

It's also a chance to raise awareness about this little-understood bug and the sting that can result when we swat the hand that feeds us.