Do you love bumblebees as much as I do?
They’re adorable, colorful, fuzzy and bodacious. For decades, I have enjoyed interrupting my gardening chores to contemplate the bumblebees calmly going from flower to flower, gathering nectar and pollen. They bend down to drink deeply, languidly caressing and clinging to the flower. They use their little feet to pull pollen into a tiny ball to carry home.
I never have seen the bees argue over a flower; they are all in harmony at the banquet. They calmly accept my presence as I tend the plants.
All my experiences with bumblebees have been benign. One drizzly day, I was plucking marigold flowers to put in a salad. Grasping a flower, I felt a little sting to my finger. Just a warning nip. Bending, I found the perpetrator under the petals, using the flower as an umbrella. He just wanted to stay dry. I was impressed with his restraint.
More than once, as the evening grew cool, I found bumblebees that had fallen asleep on a flower. They sometimes had their head still buried in the petals — as though they had nodded out while drinking nectar. Like a person who drank too much and fell asleep with their forehead on the table — except cuter.
These last few summers, especially last year, most of my bumblebee friends seem to have disappeared. I see a few here and there enjoying the flowers, but not many like years past.
Where have they all gone?
These cute, fuzzy gardening companions were always polite — happy to coexist with me. I miss them.
To learn what is happening to our bees, birds, animals, plants — and us, see this easy-to-understand yet highly scientific paper (click on ‘view PDF’ on right side of page): https://tinyurl.com/yxn3s5be. Also, check out this most eye-opening talk: https://tinyurl.com/3t62bwvh.
Ellen Landauer
Charlemont