Roads to Joy

We didn’t think the lovely orange ball tree (Buddleja globosa) was in quite such a flurry of blossom last year, but the intense cold, for these parts, seemed to have prevented lots of floribundance. The plants are making up for it this summer.

And the bees were as busy on this tree as I’ve ever seen them. Which made me feel a bit guilty, larking about looking at beautiful buds, trimming back a few finished aquilegias, and interrogating PictureThis every few steps to find, yet again, the name of plants we’d lost from our memory banks. Talk about lazy.

Maybe not quite that guilty. We’re not bees, after all, and our lives are lived at a different pace. Under the blue sky, white puffy clouds gathered overhead, as the big red kite wheeled past the veranda looking down at me stretched out in my hammock, I let any potential embarrassment slide away; we’ve downsized our work ambitions to suit a more sedate pace.

But I had accomplished one small task yesterday morning, besides hopping down to the fish van for our dinner. All of the lyrics to the fifteen numbers we shall sing with the SongWave Choir over the weekend of the 21st-23rd of June, in less than a fortnight now, are keyed-in to assorted A6-sized sections to fit a black pocket notebook. Hidden behind the next row of singers, we can check out an upcoming line or two, circumspectly, should we blank at any moment. It’s important that we sing out, not down, of course, so that the sound can envelope the audience in its warm embrace. But embarrassing, almost as embarrassing as one hapless Secretary for Wales discovered, when he pretended he knew the words to the Welsh anthem, if we should stumble over the words that we’ve practised so earnestly.

It seems, then, that I’ve attempted to avoid one potential embarrassment while accommodating to the impertinence of my lazy work ethic being upstaged by the busy bees. That will be just fine by me, though soon I shall be antsy enough to need to get back to my editing labours.

But now then, wasn’t there a last can or bottle of something cold in the fridge? Ah, nectar of the gods, with particular thanks to the hops or grapes which in fact had developed their fruiting capacity without needing any particular bee assistance. While I’m lazing around, I’d hate it even more to be a specific beneficiary of the bees’ work, but I’m aware that their efforts in terms of cover crops, biodiversity and the demands of other agricultural products are salutary. Just as well that they keep the biosphere ticking over.

Thanks anyway, guys, and cheers!