You can plan all you want, but life charts its own course and sometimes you have to go with the tide. Memorial Day weekend was to be dedicated to the garden, in an effort to catch up with planting (and weeding). Saturday, however, was consumed by the bee swarm. When we woke Sunday, the bees were still on the rock—not in the super. The migration which had begun before the thunderstorm on Saturday seemed to literally have washed away. Later Sunday morning the bees swarmed again, and this time we saw them swirling higher and higher in the sky, until they were lost in the woods. No doubt they clung in a mass to some branch, but we couldn’t see them, and we wouldn’t have been able to retrieve them anyway, they had gone so high. We hope that the scouts found a new home, and then relocated the colony, and that everyone is safe and pollinating some other area. For the remaining bees in the hive, we need to see if they will make a new queen, or we will need to buy one quickly and install her.
Cherisse spent a good part of Sunday building new deeps (larger hive bodies) to give both hives more room, and assembling frames to go into the hives. I was helping a friend in the afternoon, and so it wasn’t until 5 pm that we made it into the garden, planting tomatoes, summer and winter squash, and cucumbers.
Today, my only time to garden was during the hottest part of the day. In my big straw hat I hacked away at weeds so I could plant a row of sunflowers. Usually when I garden I feel a harmony with the the plants, seeds and earth. Instead, in a negative frame of mind I dwelled on fleeting time. Then my thoughts turned to Memorial Day, and finally, to what the day should mean. Thinking about the men and women who gave their lives to serve this country, and those who are in harms way all around the world, extinguished my minor complaints. I am grateful to them, and thankful for a full and happy life, with all its surprises.