I used about an hour yesterday afternoon perched on a stool in entrance of a patch of borage (Borago officinalis) with my digital camera poised to choose pictures of pollinators as they went about their company collecting pollen. I observed at the very least 6 distinct forms of bees on this particular plant, numerous of which have been small bumble bees. For some explanation there appeared to be some kind of stratification occuring by dimensions, and the more substantial bumble bees have been largely in the dry mattress driving me, feeding on not too long ago opened mountain mint blooms.

As I sat there silently, it transpired to me that they are like tiny, traveling teddy bears. Their look is soft and fuzzy. They are focussed and methodical in their perform, seldom do I observe any aggression past pushing a more compact bee apart to get to the flower initially. Folks say that if you are thorough you can stroke their fuzzy backs at any time-so-gently. I usually come to feel compelled to arrive at out, but I constantly wait. I’m not worried of bees (or any other pollinators in the backyard garden) as I wander between them day by day without having consequence. Nonetheless, whilst they are not intense and they may glimpse like cuddly, minor teddy bears, they are not inanimate, stuffed objects. I am cautious of slipping into an anthropomorphizing or infantilizing of the creatures that inhabit the backyard. As I mentioned recently, the insects and I are not “…happy, rainbow, magical cartoon friends” and I would prefer to maintain our romantic relationship sincere, neither sentimentalized nor adversarial. All of us related, but also just staying (beeing. har har)

I imagine this is Bombus ternarius, tri-colored bumblebee.