I was rummaging around the very wet wild garden this morning, looking for inverts, when I spotted this male early Bumblebee trying and failing to haul himself out of the sodden grass by climbing a taller stem, which unobligingly bent itself over at every attempt and deposited him straight back in the water. A proper conservationist wouldn’t have intervened, I daresay – if survival of the fittest was your mantra you’d take the line that it was up to him to get himself out of trouble… or not – but I can’t claim to be a conservationist, and Improper is pretty much my middle name. Besides, male Bombus pratorum are just about the doziest bees on earth, and I figured that if he wasn’t fit to father children, he’d quickly find some other way of removing himself from the gene pool.
So I crouched down, knees protesting loudly, and offered him my hand. And I won’t lie: when he grabbed hold with his front and middle claws and scrambled aboard, I felt a little frisson of emotion. For about the next twenty minutes we walked around the garden together, while he warmed up, dried out, and groomed his clumped and flattened fur back into proper fluffiness. And as we walked we had a bit of a chat, which I can only hope the neighbours didn’t hear. But every time I decided that I’d done my bit and it was now time for the bee to take back control of his own life, he declined to be moved onto any of the available sunny surfaces I found for him. Wall: no; shrub: no; ground cover: thanks, but no thanks.
By this time L and H were due to arrive for a quick visit, and I had visions of having to explain to them that I’d accidentally taken on a new pet. But then I remembered writing about the flowers that male Bombus pratorum seem to like best, so I said, “Come with me, and I’ll find you some delicious breakfast,” and took him round to the patch of green alkanet in the front garden. As soon as I held out my hand next to one of the flowers, he waltzed off onto the plant, took a quick drink, spruced himself up a bit more, and then took off and disappeared without so much as a goodbye wave. Kids, eh? What are they like?
Well, ours are lovely actually, and we had a brilliant afternoon with them. R and I feel very lucky in our family.
R: L2, C9, D19.
