morning buzz

It's begun.  As soon as it's light, we're outside to see what's unfolding, to see what little magic awaits. It really is like that Mary Oliver poem about peonies, every morning:

Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden

Except naturally, since it's still April, I went in robe and slippers.

This morning I was drawn by the Double Delight, the rose that is so happy in its new spot, about to bust out with 7 gorgeous buds.  I spent a fair amount of time mesmerized, staring into each curl of petals, wondering when will they open and release that super-rosey scent.  And then I turned and, on my way to check the seedlings, noticed that the poppies, who fill an entire bed along with the bees' beloved borage, planted in October, are opening at long last.  Bam.

The photo above -- a bee's eye view, really -- is a view inaccessible to my own eyes, except thanks to the remarkable technology in my phone.  Balanced on a rock in the border of the bed, I stretched as long as I could and held the phone where I guessed might be directly over the opening bud, and voila: the gorgeousness I can't see is now gorgeousness I can.  You and I, we now get to see what the bees see.  Or what they will see when they emerge from their cozy hives this morning.

When I was outside a little while ago, it was still a little too cool.  All three hives were still quiet, maybe one scout near each entrance, the evidence of their housekeeping all around their front "stoops" -- their dead carried out.  Such tidy little creatures.  And soon, they'll be on the wing, enjoying this garden bounty, including now, that one open poppy, planted specifically for their enjoyment, for them to roll their fuzzy bodies in, emerging coated in pollen to take home to their hives.

Oh, if only I could stay here all day and just watch them.  But that little morning foray will have to suffice.  Although, today is a special day, another in a succession of Bee Days.  [Because I'm twelve, really, and French-American, of course I'm snickering about bee days, bidets.]  We'll be back home here at noon or thereabouts, to check that the queen has left her little cage in the new hive.  And this evening we're transporting the swarm hive to Point Reyes, for them to forage and pollinate in Peg and Jim's new landscape.

Such a beautiful way to start the day, really: outside, eyes open wide, taking in all this glory, glory that we coaxed into being here on our small plot of earth.  There is nothing more satisfying to me than this, this simple basic beauty, starting the day like a bee myself, nosing around the flowers, drinking them in.

XX