I've read that honeybees are incapable of intitially piercing the skin of fruit but that they are drawn to the sugar during drought. I'm not surprised carpenter bees could easily accomplish this since they can drill into wood. My main pollinators are carpenter bees and I've never seen one do this to my Shiros or any other plum. I would be very reluctant to eliminate the car. bees on my property because they are such an asset, being the earliest and strongest bees I got going- and I've got lots of other buzzers. They're out there in the spring in my fruit trees when it's too cool and wet for most anything else. You can go after their nests in various ways. If that's your intention, just do a little search on the internet. If subsequently you have difficulty with pollination you'll probably regret going after them, however.

Some photos: Us on the river, we're the three canoes in the front and the orange kayak in the middle. Us chowing down and toasting Prof. Larry Levine, who was killed Thursday in Umpqua. If you don't know much about him, check out his obituary, he was a heck of a writer and very colorful character. Lawrence Levine had simple needs and a passion for writing. Below, Larry's awesome, poignant essay that I read, in its entirety. Friday, June 07, 2013 An artist friend and I drove the river highway late in the morning, stopping occasionally along the way. He needed to inventory his paintings at The Inn upriver, and I needed to get my drinking water from the spring where watercress grows, but actually,anything done on the river is done to be on the river. Along the highway, the Scotch Broom was invasively yellow, and the wild Sweet Peas painted with watercolors. We've both lived here for decades; we're in our sixties; we've got experienced perspectives. We've done this a bunch. I learn from him; he sees more than I do; he's got artist eyes; I've got writer eyes. If memory serves me well, I can't recall a time that we both, in a rush of deep appreciation, didn't proclaim the North Fork to be the most beautiful river in the world and the watershed paradise. This claim can and should be disputed by anyone who lives on a beautiful river, or on a moderately beautiful river, even on a pretty or cute little river, because learning the lessons the river teaches is gratifying, and if a place makes you feel as if you're in paradise, you are. Why wait. The lessons can be comforting or terrifying, but, if the learner survives, they're meaningful currently, and, over the course of memory, I can appreciate the progression of my education. The education is ongoing, never complete. A headstone will be my diploma. When my artist friend can look out at the river and say, "I remember when..." and I'm on the same memory page, that's the essence of sharing. When I stand in a spot where I have stood a hundred times and am still awe inspired, that's way cool, because I've got this personal theory about how awe has the power to transform, however temporarily and however permanently. I see the scene, simultaneously remembering its many manifestations over time, remembering the man viewing it twenty/thirty years ago, and, for too fleeting a moment, the old awe adds intensity to the present. Obviously, the river can also make a person a bit strange and esoteric, but its a fine madness. Here's how I came to this eccentricity: Over a period of time, an eon ago, the river whispered to me so softly as to be inaudible. Little by little, its voice grew louder, until I could decipher the message. Much akin to the lyrics of The Band's song, "The River Hymn," it called, "Son, you ain't never seen yourself / No crystal mirror can show it clear, come over here instead." It made me an offer to which I put up no resistance, and I've been here ever since. I like that when it addresses me--and address me it does--it always does so as "Son." It parents; it taught me to walk its rocky, slippery bottom, taught me to walk its banks; it taught me a language I work to understand, and it gave me hope that eventually my voice would be accepted into the choir that sang the language that I alone could not. I wasn't born to it; I'm adopted, and being here only gets better the more here I become.

Whatever it is, I think I have the same thing on one of my cherry trees. The leaves look eaten the same way. They leave the middle vein (and some side veins) alone on the leaf and just eat the green parts, and it's always on 1 branch. I'm guessing it's some sort of caterpillar. I was thinking of using BT but I haven't noticed any new destruction in a week. I just figured if it's not endangering the tree, I'd leave it alone.

Alana, I did ask my friend , Dana, yesterday about bees . He knows a lot more than me but he is still a new beginner on being a beekeeper. He said to go to your county and ask them Bec he goes to them for extensive training. Or better still Dept of Agriculture. You are having this issue perhaps the middle eastern bees might be here. He was naming bees to me and you should see my face blank but I was telling him about bees I saw on McCartney rose that was like 30 ft and loaded with hundreds of bees maybe a thousand. I could not smell a single bloom:( Dana bought a beehive, bought suits and order special bees. Apparently, the outsider bees decide to move in and basically throwing his bees out. A big war going on. He also have to inquire about this delima he is having on his hand. He said to enjoy them but he has not seen or heard any here but one will never know. jin