I was stung by a bee yesterday. The hot, itchy welt on my arm will remind me of that little guy for a few days. I decided to search my photo library for shots of bees and came up with quite a few so I made this collage.
Say the word “bee” and most of us think of big, fat bumble bees. There are many kinds of bees (20,000 according to one website) and they are related to wasps. I don’t really know which got me yesterday (bee or wasp) because it was rather small but it had a big punch. It left no stinger which leads me to believe it was a wasp. Regardless, they are all critical to our well being. Especially bees who, as we know, are the pollinators of the planet. Oh sure, we smart humans have learned how to pollinate plants but, honestly, the bees do it better and don’t cost as much as Monsanto. So, let’s all do what we can for the bees because, as “Vanishing of the Bees” has taught us, they are in serious trouble. And if one stings you get away from the area because once a bee or wasp stings something it releases a pheromone that tells other bees to come quick and sting the interlopers. You’re the interloper. Tell it you are sorry and get out of their town. 🙂
Exploring the nearby West Macon Track and adjacent Willow Falls housing development I came across some lovely passionflowers in a field. Most were being “worked” by the bees. This particular bee seems very possessive of his flower, clinging to it and giving me a look that says “Mine!” Perhaps my camera lens seemed like a rival? ☙
It is July 20th. Forty-three years ago the first men landed on the moon and it is the birth date of my dear friend Barbra Jenks. She would have been 47-years old today but AIDS took her life in 1992. She has been dead for more than twenty years. It is nearly impossible to believe.
Here in North Carolina, on Fawn Hill, in 2013, life goes on and the Indian Pipes are beginning to fade. They seem to be sprouting up everywhere on the hill around me but the earliest blooms are definitely on the down-side of growth and I have my doubts about whether the new growth will be able to match the growth spurts of the other stands. The signs of de-comp in the older stands are there in blackness that tinges the petals and the mushy texture of the stalks. Still, they are clearly producing nectar as the honey bee showed me.
He buzzed by my ear as I lay on the soft bed of leaves in the woods trying to get “just the right shot” on the Indian Pipes. Soon I was engaged in an energetic effort to get a clear photo of this bee who worked the petals with remarkable familiarity. I couldn’t do it. He was too fast for me. I have some wonderfully focused pictures of his rear-end as he nuzzled into each petal but this grainy photo is the best I can do for a full frontal of this wonderful bee.
Life goes on. This bee knows nothing of men landing on the moon or Barbra’s untimely death. His life is short and his focus intense. There is a lesson there for all of us. ☙