The Dreams of Bees

“If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden.”
~Frances Hodgson Burnett

 

 

The sky is bright. The day is new and I am out in the neglected garden, busy as a bee, foolhardily attempting to resurrect order into chaos.  I feel wonderful out here in the fresh air and sunshine. It is a spectacular Saturday.  I have the whole day ahead to do whatever I want and this is what I want.

Finally…

backyard studio

I miss it out here and from the looks of it it misses me. It is a cornucopia of green things vying for space and light. I liken this tangled mess to my mind and life in general; bursting with wild, colorful and impatient things…lush, exuberant and messy. Tending the soil has given me metaphor upon metaphor upon on which to reflect and the act of gardening itself allows my mind to meander down strange and unusual and often very creative paths.

I am more of a scientist really than an oranmentalist. I like crazy wild. I shy away from the straight line. I will allow a mysterious plant to grow, just to see what it turns out to be. Most of the time it turns out to be just a common weed but once in a while serendipity will shine on me with something new and wonderful.  Life is like that I think too.

It is labor intensive here. I set all this up when I had oodles of time on my hands. I didn’t have to do much at work and life came pretty easy. My garden, my sanctuary as I called it, was my respite from the world, a world I was very much afraid of. It was here I started this blog and the blogger Strawberryindigo was born. In a little converted garage we call the studio I typed and typed and purged my heart out.

I think about that now; how far I’ve come.  They say where our heart lies there lies our treasure. Once my yard was my treasure. It was pristine, nary a weed or grass-blade out of place. I worked hours at a stretch, this is where I gained my satisfaction in life but it was lonely being so afraid of the world…

 

flower shadow july summer

Through design and through fate via a series of sales related jobs has forced me out of my comfort zone again and again, so much it is a common occurrence.  Once I gain mastery I go onto the next challenge. I am cultivating my garden. I am accepting myself as I am but weeding out what does not serve me to make room for the more beautiful things that do.  Beautiful things we all can enjoy.  I am cultivating friendships where I did not before and now my garden is not so lonely anymore.

My goal is to spread goodness and light in my own small way; planting seeds along my path. Some may not take root but others will, growing into something wonderful. I figure the more seeds I plant the more flowers that will grow…

 

…and so here I am pulling weeds thinking about this and there I spy a butterfly; a swallowtail. It is headed for the butterfly bush.  I run and get my camera. It is kind enough to stick around for a few photos

 

june butterfly swallowtail in butterfly bush today

 

 

 

today butterfly swallowtail 2

 

I get excited at this sort of event , and yes seeing a butterfly is an event to me!  I lay back in the grass.  The breeze cools my sweaty brow. I am totally living in that moment and then as if on cue nature rewards me with a smallish flock of sweet little birds who make tiny hops around the branches of the tree next me, they make cute little chirpings the sort you’d expect from birds such as this.

 

I am happy…

nancy in jean jacket back yard

I watch honeybees visit the white clover flowers in the grass. They carefully buzz from one to the next fast and efficiently. Their devotion to their task inspired me to leave this wild area in the grass, unmown and full of clover, the patch has grown since last year.

 

clover grass bee

I am an avid bee watcher although I don’t have the time like I used to…

My mind drifts to the story I was reading earlier that queried if bees dream and then what do they dream about?  The whole prospect of bees dreaming intrigues the hell out of me and the writer of the article states that bees when kept from sleeping (yes, bees sleep) tend to forget where all the good flowers are.

This makes a whole lot of sense.  I think that we humans could learn a few things from our friends the bees:

A busy bee still finds time to dream. It is those wonderful dreams made into fruition by hard work that create beautiful gardens. 

 

~NLM

peach flower and bee

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“Everything takes time. Bees have to move very fast to stay still.”
―David Foster Wallace

 

Honey bee workers {Apis mellifera} flying towards flower, Digital composite, UK.
Honey bee workers {Apis mellifera} flying towards flower, Digital composite, UK.

References and Related articles 

  Do Bees Dream?  (BBC.Com) 

 

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Change

“Nothing endures but change.”

Heraclitus

I feel the change in the air. I can see it in the golden light of the morning sun. I can hear it in the insistence of the caws of crows. Sunny the Calico runs back and forth across the lawn. I think she can sense it too; there is a certain energy to this day.

The wind picks up and shakes the tall pines that frame the yard. The deep purple Asters have begun to bloom and complement quite nicely the bright yellow Susans.

I spy a white butterfly. It is Cabbage White, I believe. It is a flurry of activity and is much too quick for me to identify it by the tale-tell spots on its white wings. It flutters around before stopping by some phlox and then heads to a popular spot for butterflies; the Buddleia or otherwise known as, what else: A butterfly bush. This magnificent plant is heavy in nectar and butterflies as well as hummingbirds and bees are attracted to it’s heady scent…it calls to them like moths to a flame…so irresistable.

It is hard to believe that it is September already. This past summer has seemed to just fly by. I look at my poor neglected lawn; shaggy around the edges, brown spotted and weedy. I admit I have let it go this past year. I have found different priorities and a perfect lawn stopped being one of them.

I have learned to enjoy my garden more and work in it less. I have accepted a certain amount of naturalness and with it some untidiness. It seems the birds and the bees and the cats…. and the dragonflies don’t seem to mind.

I mention this as a big greenish dragonfly circles over my head, high in the air. What a magnificent creature. I marvel at it’s speed and agility. I sit under the beautiful green Laurel tree, a tree I planted when my son was in the first grade. It stands tall just as he does now.  He’s a senior in high school this year. Oh my, how time flies.

The breeze plays a melodic tune on the chimes in the tree as the wind picks up again. I remind myself to enjoy this time; in a few months time it will be cold again and I will watch from the back window making plans for the coming spring and wishing I could sit under the tree and watch the butterflies as I am now.

A chickadee stops and sings its namesake song: “Chickadee-dee-dee-dee” to me atop the fence. Mario comes in very slowly from behind the fuchsia, creeping through the grass on his way to the little black headed bird. The bird is much too fast for Mario and flies away.  He acknowledges me with his customary ‘”silent mew”, sits down and together under the laurel tree, the cat and I watch the seasons change.