On a sunny afternoon in early spring, one of them buzzes in Arie Koster’s garden in Kranenburg, Gelderland. But now that the days are getting longer and warmer, he expects more soon. The 76-year-old bee expert has been concerned with the welfare of wild bees for decades: he lectures on creating bee-friendly gardens, obtained his PhD in bee management in public spaces and manages denederlandsebijen.nl† To be Plant Vade Mecum is a meticulous reference guide for homeowners to attract bees and increase biodiversity. His motto: improve the world, start with your garden.
Koster does not talk about it lightly: “Gardens are the gold mines of biodiversity.” They are vital to wild bees that suffer from large-scale farming, urbanization and tighter management of public green spaces. More than half of the 360 species of bees in the Netherlands are in danger of disappearing, warns the National Bee Strategy of the Ministry of Agriculture. Internationally, too, there are major concerns about the existence of wild bees, both for the preservation of biodiversity and for the future of our food supply. This weekend, on April 23 and 24, the National Beekeeping place to provide more insight into Dutch wild bees.
Cattail and red show tree
The Netherlands has more than 5 million gardens: an area the size of almost 44,000 football fields. At least half is tiled. A shame, says Koster, because green, blooming gardens can provide a home for all kinds of small life. Now that nitrogen deposition and industrial agriculture have impoverished the countryside, a thriving (urban) garden is a refuge for wild bees, which have been making their entrance in the city since 2000.
Koster has seen the Dutch garden become wild over the years. When he started as a gardener in the 1960s, he saw a fixed pattern of plants. Raked gardens with geraniums, marigolds, lobelias – not a bee that flew on them. After that, heather plants came into fashion, equally uninteresting to the bee. Koster now hopes for the end of the ‘stone age’ of the garden: “Since 2000, people have become more environmentally aware and the gardens a bit wilder.”
His own garden is still bare. A year ago, Koster moved with his wife from Veenendaal to Kranenburg. With a heavy heart, he left behind his previous garden, which he had transformed into a bee paradise. But a new garden also offers new possibilities. He already planted campandulas for the bluebell bees, loosestrife for the loosestrife bee and a red tree for the lathyrus bees.
When the feast for the bees is over, it begins for the others
Making your garden bee-friendly doesn’t have to be complicated. Small gardens or balconies can also contribute to biodiversity, argues Koster. Avoiding pesticides or creating a small bee hotel makes a world of difference. The most important thing is the choice of planting: plants form the basis of every food cycle. Without plants no soil life, and without soil life no insects. According to Koster, bee-friendly plants can be compared to a restaurant for biodiversity: “When the feast for the bees is over, it starts for the others. seeds for the birds; roots for the insects; dead leaves for the worm. Bee management is insect management.”
In addition, a green garden inspires others to follow, which, according to Koster, is perhaps the most important. “If you’re able to do it with your neighbors, the bee-friendly area will spread over all the gardens. Gardens are small ecosystems that can connect larger ecosystems.”
How many bees you have in your garden is what Koster thinks is ‘talking about’. “If you create a bee-friendly garden in Limburg against the Pietersberg, you will have a hundred wild bees in your garden within three years. But you might find a handful in the same garden in the polder in Flevoland. That garden in Flevoland is worth just as much as that garden in Limburg. Each place has its own identity and possibilities.”
Ultimately, the pursuit of biodiversity should not be the only starting point, says Koster. “A garden is a world of experience, a place to be comforted and to come up with ideas.” Even in Koster’s garden, not every vegetation contributes to the bee’s prosperity. He points to the fuchsia in front of the conservatory: “The wild bees don’t like that.” A compromise, according to his wife. “Not everything is for the bees, sometimes you also have to do something for your wife.” Koster smiles and takes a sip of coffee from his bee print mug.