“Life is hard.  After all, it kills you.”

This dramatic statement came from no other than actress Katharine Hepburn, who was not thinking of big buzzy bees when she uttered it. But it could be these insects’ tag line.

Lately, I have been finding bodies of bulbous beasts, including carpenter and bumble bees, strewn on the ground, on the deck and along the trails. Is it an insect apocalypse or just nature at work?

Probably both, but it is the latter that describes my local observations. Most of the dead bees I am observing are victims of life cycle, predation and potentially some human-induced threats. Their demise provides an opportunity for an up-close look at these fascinating insects and a deep dive into the details of their demise.

Carpenter and bumble bees are two of the large spherical species bumbling about. They can be differentiated in life and death. Carpenter bees are often seen targeting wood for their nests and making and using holes in buildings, while bumble bees are not interested in your trim or siding. They nest in the ground, grasses, old rodent and bird nests, and under sheds and structures.

The bodies of these bees diverge in color and markings. Carpenter bees are mostly shiny black with a yellow section on their thorax, while bumble bees are super fuzzy and have yellow and black striping. In both species, the female has a stinger but rarely uses it. In Shakespeare’s time, bumble bees were called “humblebees,” with the connotations of modest, lowly, kind and benevolent.

Valued for their pollination services, these bees are especially important for crops such tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, melons and many berries as well as native and nonnative plants. More than 25 commercial food crops depend on bumble bees for pollination services.

Bee lives are short, with most existing from a few weeks up to a year, depending on species, gender, and season. Of course, there are deaths from natural causes such as old (in bee terms) age. This time of year, it is not unusual to see a handful of dead bees put outside of a nest by workers that are the result of hygiene and spring-cleaning activities to ready the nest for the season.

Predators are another cause of mortality for bees and sometimes those deaths are self-evident. Bees that became prey are often observed missing a head, thorax or abdomen. Birds are the likely culprits, and will pick and eat the best parts (think head and brains), leaving other less desirable parts behind.

If you find a dead bee roadside it might have been a victim of a car or truck collision. Bumbles are large, but no match for our much more massive vehicles. High numbers of dead elsewhere could be poison or colony death due to parasites or other conditions. Lack of food and poor weather can also cause bee mortality.

In an interesting type of assisted suicide, consider certain varieties of lime and linden trees. Some varieties of these species can kill bees that have drunk too much of their nectar, which can act as a narcotic and is even toxic in quantities to the point of death.

Sometimes, though, motionless bees are just resting. Sleeping bees may resemble those that have passed, but note that live ones hold their bodies upright, and are often found on plants and will move when touched.

While some fear these bees and many avoid their presence or curse their activities, I cannot help but be thankful for their pollination services, beauty and functionality in the face of a harsh world. American playwright and novelist Thornton Wilder might not have been considering bee bereavement, but captured my feelings about these fuzzy buzzies: “The highest tribute to the dead is not grief but gratitude.” 

Suzan Bellincampi is director of the Felix Neck Wildlife Sanctuary in Edgartown, and author of Martha’s Vineyard: A Field Guide to Island Nature and The Nature of Martha’s Vineyard.