Nature's Place

On the calendula, collecting pollen for her little ones to be.

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A little nectar too, for her own wellbeing, to keep on being a bee.

Preening in another flower, what bees do by their nature.

Basking in the yellow, cooler than red, colours matter, to this bee.

A bee in the garden on a hot summers day.

© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look … and click again.

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Rescued from the water, still a little wet. Breathing fine, antennae intact, tongue working. Where there’s life form functions.

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Grooming and preening, the better to do its ordinary job … of entertaining the people of earth.

A bit of a climb at times, a zigzag incline – where life reflects on self. 1 2 3, 1 2 3 …

Two steps forward. one step back … nature’s waltz, 1 2 3, 1 2 3 …

Getting on with its ordinary life, of being a bee.

Mostly gathering goodness for the hive, with an occasional hiccup.

© Mark Berkery ……. Click on those pictures for a closer look

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On my finger. Looking strong and healthy after her swim. She pays particular attention to the condition of her tongue.

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Drying, preening and cleaning can take quite a while. The minutes pass as I sit watching while she resumes full fitness.

A nice warm stone to dry out on in the sun. Placed for the shooting angle with blue sky as background, helps …

She looks fierce, but only to the eye expecting ‘something else’. Imagination. Nature is supremely practical.

They’ll always climb to higher ground if they are well enough. All the better to take off from, when the time comes.

It has been said yoga, a practise of physical exercises with a spiritual dimension (attention to sensation) was developed by observing nature’s creatures about their business.

They have an exercise for every occasion, every body part gets its turn, no exceptions.

A number of honey bees were rescued from the cold water recently. Too many to show them all, or even a representative sample of images.

If I get to them early enough they recover quickly and seem to suffer no ill effects. They just take the time to recover, given the space for preening and cleaning, then take to the air, do a short circuit above and find a direction to fly in.

Home, I suspect. Back from whence they come. To rejoin the hive they serve. One body’s life having little more significance than that, except it is itself unique and integral to the whole.

Not insignificant …

© Mark Berkery ……. Click on those pictures for a closer look

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Gripping the side of the leaf for safety, lest she fall down into the darkness below.

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It wouldn’t do, to be lost to the earth, this fine late blooming bee. She sensed something … could be male with that headdress.

Could it have been me she sensed, the dark shadow above, or the heat of my hand close by. Sensitive, sensible, little thing.

She took the hand was offered, climbed on and set out exploring. Not too cold at all here, on another warm living thing.

It seems a long time since the small creatures vanished from the garden this year. A sense of things to come perhaps.

In season, but fitting to the news from around the world of the disappearing insects, our disappearing nature.

So busy being clever we forgot to tend to nature with a little love, and our ignorance is coming back to us, inevitably.

Not unlike a boomerang thrown by a novice who somehow gets it right, and turns to an admiring audience to take a bow.

Whack … get it right next time, maybe. But no gloom here, there is function in the self inflicted …

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It was on my mind to patrol the garden, maybe find a bee caught out in the recent cold. If I’m lucky.

And there she was … sitting on a leaf, waiting for the warm sun to shine on her in the shadows.

I lifted her up, and got a few shots along the way. She didn’t mind the heat of my hand.

Heat is life to a bee somehow living in the shadows of our winter.

When warmed enough she took to the wild airways.

Nature undaunted …

© Mark Berkery ……. Click on those pictures for a closer look

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Down on the pebbled concrete at the foot of the stairs, where the recent Curlew stood.

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A male, from the five stripes across its body. He made every effort to take to the air.

After watching him fall again and again I lent a hand. The one he’s standing on above.

A leaf afforded more opportunity for a few shots, within reach and firm enough for his weight.

From the other side and above it is clear the pollen sacks stuck to his back have been torn.

And all the while his tongue is hanging down and unsheathed, not its usual position or condition.

The one mandible visible here and above is clearly ok and in place. But in other images its opposite is clearly out of place, maybe tucked behind the tongue sheath causing it to hang – can’t really tell.

A few items on the table were good for colour, while he stood still. The blue suits him, nice contrast, all the better to appreciate his form. Weird and wonderful little fellow.

Moving and stopping, to and fro, made for an exercise in capturing available backgrounds from varying angles.

And variations thereof … uncluttered imagery. No emotion or thinking to distract from the simple being, or form.

G’day mate …

How’s it going …

A Blue Banded Bee. I found him on the ground below the flowers. He was far from home but behaved as if new from the nest, struggling to take flight as if just born with some unseen impediment. But perhaps it was acquired in flight on a windy day.

He seemed energetic enough, and whole except for the hanging tongue and the apparently missing mandible, had come from some ways to the flowers. But here couldn’t get into the air for more than a few seconds before falling back to earth.

The yellow on his back reminded me of how orchids will leave a sack of pollen on the backs of visiting insects, bees and wasp and such small flying creatures. What this was I think.

However, I gave him a hand, literally and by an available leaf to climb on. Often a bee having trouble at ground level will be successful from a higher vantage.

But no, was not to be, he just kept falling. So I brought him to the veranda table upstairs and set him up for a few shots before feeding him some sugar water.

He took lengthening breaks but he never gave up, always at the ready. And while I was momentarily distracted he disappeared. Into the wild …

He had done his job for the orchid, though he wasn’t done yet.

Just beyond the shade of knowing.

© Mark Berkery ……. Click on those pictures for a closer look

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There isn’t much insect activity in the garden after a hot and dry summer and recent unseasonal heatwave.

The native bee’s nests are devoid of activity. Because they know, without thinking, it’s not a good time to be born right now.

The heat has seriously stressed the flowering plants the bees need for survival and recovery may be a protracted process. If …

But here are a few that came before, magical little bee of neon blue on black. Little beauty bee.

© Mark Berkery ……. Click on those pictures for a closer look

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