Temperatures have plummeted in recent days, and the furnace has been turning itself on in the wee hours of the morning. Putting one’s bare feet down on the wooden floor at sunrise is definitely an awakening experience.
When I visit the garden early in the day, our bumbles are clinging to the late blooms and foliage, so cold and stiff that they are unable to move until sunlight warms their dear little fuzzy bodies up. Frost is on the way, and their remaining lifespan can probably be measured in mere hours.
To all the little sisters who came to our garden this summer, our heartfelt thanks. May Melissa, goddess of the bees, grant you rest and sweet enchantment, nectar and song, endless sunlight and buzzing flight in the green and flowered fields beyond the ones we know.