Bees

Watching bees in the garden is fascinating. There are many different sorts and not at all easy to identify. The red-tailed bumble-bee nests behind the grid in the wall below the kitchen floor and the white-tailed bumble-bee nests in the roof above my bedroom window. There are mason bees in cardboard tubes above the car port and a leaf-cutter bee has a tunnel in a plant pot in the greenhouse. It lines the tunnel with segments of leaves that it neatly cuts and carries.




The phlomis is an excellent bee plant and I do like to watch the bees land on the lower petal and push their way into the flower. Then as they do, the flower gets its reward as the stamens bend down and press the anthers onto the bee's furry back leaving a dusting of pollen. Off the bee flies to another flower where it will leave a trace of male pollen on the female stigma and so fertilise it and enable seeds to form. Simply wonderful!

Drawing

So far, I am keeping up with my intention of drawing every day. My work is still laboured and lacks the freshness that I admire elsewhere. I am still falling into the trap of overworking and putting in too much detail. The rusty pump is heavier than I would like and the phlomis flowers are reasonable, but the leaves are mucky and do not show the light shining through them as they should.

The garden has been so dry lately and beginning to suffer even though this year's flowers are brilliant and the best ever. Windy today, and some damage to plants, but now we have a heavy shower that should give them a much need drink.

Recently, I read two books by Michael Williams describing journeys by slow trains across Britain. Wonderful, evocative books and I must seek out some of the slow branch railways myself. At present, I feel duty bound to keep Tegan company as she is very old and feeble and will not be with me much longer. Perhaps I should have her put to sleep, but it will break my heart.