The heat has brought everything to a screeching halt. As I watered the deck plants in the early evening, the mountain was eerily quiet. Not even a bird chirp or call broke the silence. The turkey hens and their adolescent chicks moved like ghosts across the front pasture. Closer to me, there was the low buzz of small black bumblebees with fuzzy, bright-yellow heads. Licorice mint grows tall and puts out spikes of lavender flowers that are a favorite of the bumblers and the hummers. The mint has spread to nearly every pot on the deck, and the bumblers kept me company as we moved together down the line.
Stan is Kellan and Wil's partner. He is a bee keeper, hence Mellifera Farm. Mellifera means honey bearer. Stan told Kellan, and Kellan told me, that honey bees are neat, tidy creatures who are meticulous housekeepers, cleaning their hives every day. Bumblebees, on the other hand, appear to be the neighborhood slobs, letting their trash pile up until their hives actually stink (if one were to get close enough to sniff).
With temperatures above one hundred in the shade at noon (and that's when I quit looking at the thermometer), I'm not going to pass judgment on the bumblebees. Even with company coming, not much got done yesterday except a little laundry and the barn chores. I just want to sit still.