The hills might be "alive with the sound of music," but the fields are alive with the constant buzzing of honey bees. Even after Helper Dude mowed down everything, the star thistle, desperate to procreate, sent up new plants that are about six inches high, covered with bright yellow flowers and sharp thorns. Because of drought, deer, and the dratted ground squirrels, I have no flowers anymore to provide pollen to draw the bees. The poor things are making do with star thistle (I can't imagine what that honey tastes like), and they're out there in the hundreds. Colony collapse is a real disaster and I didn't want to be a contributor, so I'm very happy to see these guys. What I have not seen this year are the bumblebees. I've always enjoyed the big, clumsy black bumblers and the smaller black and yellow variety, and there hasn't been one out in the west field. I mentioned this to Camille recently and she said they're all down at her place. She, not having ground squirrels, has flowers (phfft). Regardless, I'm glad to know they're still around.
Michael and I made a quick trip into town yesterday, "quick" being a relative term since the round trip alone takes over an hour. Michael did what Michael does. He makes friends with everyone, men, women, and children. He is a people magnet, a charmer, no doubt about it. I'm privileged to be his acolyte.
It is the time of the full Harvest Moon. Last night, just about the time I was ready to go to bed, Michael asked to go outside, which was unusual for him. Hey, when a guy's gotta go.... I put his leash on him (I may be a slow learner, but I learn) and out we went. Turned out he didn't have to piddle, he just wanted to look at the moon. I didn't blame him. It was huge, yellow, and lit up the night. He sat in the driveway and just looked. We listened to the night birds and enjoyed a light breeze after the heat of the day. I stood with him as long as I could, and then we called it a night.
It was a good day.
No comments:
Post a Comment