My Beautiful Babes …
… Are nearly all gone for this season. And for one reason or another I didn’t get out to them as much as I wanted, with the old body breaking down with this ‘n’ that but also mitigated by the help of a good ole doc.
In the field and forest of late I only found a few at sundown, my pretty gals, huddled against the coming night’s cold and condensation under a clear dark sky. It got very cold suddenly, noticeably, recently, from one night to the next. The same day the Mother Huntsman disappeared from her nest of spiderlings. And just as sudden, the wildlife all but disappeared from my usual haunts.
There might be a boy amongst them but bees just ‘feel’ female to me, the native Oz ones anyway. And that’s good enough for me, the ‘feel’ of it, in the absence of ‘fact’ which is often obtained by killing the little ones. Not a practise I agree with or see the need for, except we are always interfering, can’t keep our noses out of things. Busy, busy, busy, just like the bees except they aren’t trying to change the world or leave their mark. Not like us people anyway.
But everybody is doing their best according to their knowledge and capacity. The ‘spiritual’ life is not easy. The simplicity of it is just too much ‘absence – a void’ for most people who are used to excited, even feverish, activity – no less the religionists.
I don’t mean to separate the spiritual from the so-called mundane but there is a point at which living can be said to become spiritual though not as any religion would have us believe – as can be seen from daily recorded worldwide events, religion is no measure of spirituality.
Belief being the childish or immature abrogation of ones authority as opposed to the child-like, the innocence of a child’s unburdened intelligence necessary to be free of belief in order to question freely.
That point could be said to be realised when one has had enough of being busy, or sticking their nose in, when the greater need is seen to be for peace of mind than any exercise of it. And it’s a long time coming, as anyone who has had it come to them can tell.
I am not suggesting anyone give anything up. I am just saying it as it is for me, because by the means of publishing this it has a life of its own beyond anything I could design. So I just do my best to say what I have to say without fear or favour, or consideration of self, and let my work speak for itself – I’m sure it speaks to some one, somehow.
These Bees are my great little beauties, for now. It is correct to say I love them, as I do every creature I come in contact with, in a way – they have no artifice. But the Bees are a particular attraction for me. And when I’m with them I treat them with great care and respect for their body and being. That is what is meant by ‘dominion over’, love and not exploitation rights.
Though if you see otherwise I’d like to hear it, really. So I might make myself clearer, or understand better.
Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture to enlarge in a new tab