The last bee (and wasp) photos of the year

Temperatures are dropping well below freezing at night and the bees are slowly vanishing for the winter, so I thought I would share some of the last shots I took before saying goodbye to the bees for now.

Honey bee on fleabane

Honey bee on fleabane…I like how the flower is reflected in her eye

European Paper Wasp (Polistes dominulus)

European Paper Wasp (Polistes dominulus)

Sweat bee (Lasioglossum sp.)

Sweat bee (Lasioglossum sp.)

IMG_6249And I should say, this is probably the perfect time to share William Cullen Bryant’s poem “The Death of the Flowers”:

THE MELANCHOLY days have come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere;
Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead;
They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit’s tread;
The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay,
And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day.

Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood
In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood?
Alas! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers
Are lying in their lowly beds with the fair and good of ours.
The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain
Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.

The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago,
And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow;
But on the hill the goldenrod, and the aster in the wood,
And the yellow sunflower by the brook in autumn beauty stood,
Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men,
And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland, glade, and glen.

And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come,
To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home;
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still,
And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill,
The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore,
And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.

And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died,
The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side.
In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forests cast the leaf,
And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief:
Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours,
So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers.

– William Cullen Bryant

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6 thoughts on “The last bee (and wasp) photos of the year

  1. Such a sad poem. I am thinking of all my bees sleeping underground in the garden and tucked into their little holes in the house walls and in the bee hotels and I am looking forward to seeing them all again next year. In the meantime I am going to be busy trying to learn more about them and sort all the photographs I took of them.

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