“The bees are flying. They taste the spring.” – Sylvia Plath, from “Wintering”
I saw my first bees of 2010 today.
Here is how it happened: On a quick walk at the South Carolina Botanical Gardens, I spotted this weeping, flowering tree in the distance.
Now, weeping trees act like magnets upon me, especially when they are in bloom. It was a bizarre revelation to me to discover a couple of years ago that some people do not even like weeping trees, not even a little bit, considering them gloomy, perhaps because their form is titled “weeping.”
Basically how it works for me is that I see one and then imagine standing beneath it, totally enveloped in blossoms or dangling foliage, just like I did as a little girl with my very first experience of a young weeping willow. It’s pure magic to be able to get inside the protective embrace of a tree, and while in the “weeping” shape is pretty much the only time a tree gets to put its arms around a human being.
So of course I had to go stand beneath this one. Immediately. (And fortunately the paths in that area were so nebulous as to be undefined, so there was nothing standing in my way.)
It was delightful, surrounded by a dome of frilly pink blossoms* and perfect blue sky, with just the merest hint of fragrance in the air. I was transported to that place of utter rapture, as sometimes happens to me in nature.
Naturally, the bees had found this glorious haven to their liking, also. We both enjoyed each other’s company there under the pink and blue canopy. Well, at least, I enjoyed theirs. I’m not sure they had time to notice me much.
They were busy, moving so fast that most of their portraits are blurred.
I was so delighted to see them after our long months apart. I’d missed them, without even realizing it.
* The tree in question was unlabeled, but I’m guessing it’s a peach tree. It looked like one, and it smelled faintly like one. You’d think I’d be certain of this, seeing as I was raised to be a “Georgia Peach,” myself. But I’m not. The blossoms of peach, cherry, and plum look pretty interchangeable to me when they are in their ruffly double form, and the ones bred for their looks alone often are not as fragrant as the flowers that go on to make edible fruit. Please do enlighten me if you can make a proper identification of this beauty.
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