For the Love of Bees

I have mentioned that my husband and I believe in the kind of yard stewardship that respects and nourishes the living creatures on our acre. We try to make minimal impact. We do not believe in using poisons. We let the grass grow, where possible. We put out bowls of fresh water for the creatures. We let the wildflowers take over.

Last week, I talked about mowing, and how we don't believe in doing it very often. In fact, it's my secret plan over time to turn MORE of the yard into wild space. Food for the butterflies and hummingbirds and bees and other creatures.

I came home one day late last week to find my husband had done the mowing. Sort of. He had mowed one half of the front yard, but the other half (sun-side) was full of clover, and the bees were going crazy over it.

He told me he had started mowing the edge of the clover area, very slowly, to allow the bees time to escape the blade. But when he looked down and saw the very sorry sight of a bee clinging to a fallen bloom, he gave up, and left that side of the yard for the bees.

I laughed when I saw our half-mowed yard, but it was a happy laugh. And you should have seen and heard all the life on that little patch of yard! I kneeled at the edge of the clover on Saturday afternoon in the sun and listened to the sweet music of the bees.

Also possibly related: Robert Frost, The Tuft of Flowers.

The soundtrack: What's the Buzz, Tell Me What's A-Happening from Jesus Christ Superstar.