At last. I had a few trips down to the bees to-day hoping that it was warm enough to see something. On the 3rd visit the excitement of the bees reacquainting themselves with their environment was almost palpable and certainly audible. There was something so uplifting, the promise of things to come, of a new year and joy at surviving winter. Those outside the hive could hardly be seen individually but the cloud of frenzied activity made Wordsworth’s oft quoted words come to mind ‘ a host of golden daffodils’ – no, far better a host of fluttering bees, mine to boot.
They have the potential for pollen – snowdrops close at hand, catkins and pink blossom – possibly a verbena or something?