2b, or not 2b
IN A RECENT
correspondence I promised Jo some bees. So I took up my camera and toddled into Queens Park where I know there’s a wee pair of bushes laden with bees. Bulging at the seams with bees, hopping with bees, buzzing with bees; an eclectic mix of honeys and Bumbles.
but it seems that all the bees allocated to the park choose to congregate at just these two bushes (with a wee bit of overflow onto some nearby poppies) but I’m not complaining. Much. Saves me an awesome trek and many suspicious glances from modern mothers with infants in tow.
whatever’s in the nectar of those bushes is hyper. I’ve never seen such frenetic activity—normally bumbles do just that, they bumble. Normally, yes—but these blighters aren’t normal. They scamper, they scorch, they do vertical lift-offs with Immelmann turns built in so don’t even think of trying to get a visual lock with a camera. In the end I gave up any and all pretence of being a photographer and just kept shooting as fast as I could (without switching to burst mode) whilst hoping for the best.
I didn’t get, but enough snaps turned out that I can post some here and trust to Jo’s goodwill.
they (bees) were on … I have no idea of their names. Honestly. I did ask a friendly park attendant lady but for the nonce she had forgotten the names and our search through the shrubbery and undergrowth didn’t turn up any tally-plates with names engraved so we were scuppered. (If anyone can name them for me I’d be very grateful.) In the meantime: Jo, some bees for you and I hope you like—
is in the heart of town. So? So when I arrived quite early on in the day I saw a bunny moving through the heavily cultivated rose garden, and watched as the beastie moved to within a few feet of a totally unaware gardener and sat staring, almost as if he were hunting. Weird.
Later on I came back that way, and as I entered the roses I just knew (as in knew) that I’d see my rabbit again so got out my camera and armed it ready.
I did see my rabbit again. Judging by the body language I knew damned well that he’s seen me too. Certainly he seemed conscious of me but not too worried (lying close to the ground with ears flattened means aware—charging at me and going right over the top means worried)—
He really knew I was there when I started talking to him. Her. It … and a minute or two of soft talk soothed his ruffled feathers enough that he became relatively unconcerned and went about his business, which allowed me to shoot him en passant—
enough of our furry friend the bunny. I’m still seeking answers to The Great Unanswered Questions Of Life — in particular, those two adjacent bushes: what are they?
Here’s a wee snap of a bee in the other one of them. The bees loved the tall gangly green one, but absolutely adore (and revel in) this flowery one below—
—and that’s all I know about it: leafy, hairy, mauvish flowers and home to an entire park’s allowance of bees …
As I said: for Jo … with thanks.