“Effort is only troublesome when you are bored”
-Christopher Lloyd
The afternoon is clear. Chores have been done. Work has been done. I have a moment between things to do. To just sit with the camera. It feels like a while since I have done this. I decide to do some digital film work something I haven’t done since the film course finished in June. We had our film premiere the day before my Nana died and I think for some reason this is why I have stayed away from it. On this afternoon, the sun, the light, the movement of the bees felt encouraging and wanting to be captured, so I went and sat on the tiles I placed on the lawn in front of the hive, placed specifically for this purposes and just watched them for a bit.
It is safe to say that I am still very wonky with my hand held camera work. I know with practice I will get better. I just need to do that. Practice. So I sit and play, watching the movement, setting the camera to slow motion settings as I love it when you can see the details of the bees movement, especially when they are flying. I am such a beginner that what I desire to create is beyond my skill set. It will come with time and I know that even if I want I film isn’t what I want to see, it is still something. A start.
While filming I notice a bumble bee. Most likely a queen. She is very determined to get in the hive. I suspect the smell of honey has drawn her in and I watch with much trepidation as the bees who are guarding the hive firmly stop her attempts. I, of course, interven knowing what the eventually outcome will be if the bumble keeps persisiting. Which she does. Eventually I move her off to a flower in the garden.
Peace is restored, for the moment.
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I’ve started seedlings. Just a few. Actually that is a lie. I’ve started a lot. Naively of course as I am not sure where I will put them all once they have emerged and are in their individual plant cells. There is only so much window space. They seem to be striking well. Cornflowers, Nigella, Scabiosa, to name a few. All bee friendly annuals that if they make it to full grown plants will be jammed into corners of the garden where gaps exist. Mass planted I hope they will become a forest of flowers and movement as the spring turns to summer. This makes me start to dream of the summer evening light. I hope my vision comes to pass and I get to capture this delight with my camera.
There is something so incredibly optimistic about a seedling emerging from the soil. The split of the seed, the uncurling of a the seedling and then the vibrant shade of green. After such a heavy winter it is a delight to experience such a thing. I am trying to take it slow, not rush my seedlings. I have done this in the past not understanding the merit of taking it slow so that you have strong seedlings and then plants. Like most things it is the journey not the arrival.
Gardening always teaches patience.
"Spring has come when you can put your foot on seven daisies at once”
-Katherine Swift
Speaking of patience. I impatiently finished a book. It is never a satisfying experience especially when it has been a good read as well. It was way to many minutes past bed time and I only had a few more pages to go. I think I had been nibbling away at this book for a number of months and as enjoyable as it was there is part of me that wanted to finish it. I flicked my finger across the last few pages, deducted the index and established I could just about get it finished before it became a ridiculous bedtime. I speed read. I skipped words. I paraphrased the words which had been carefully selected by the author. I rushed. I didn’t appreciate it at all. And then it was finished. The pages left to read shorter than I had anticipate. I try and go back and re read those last pages more slowly. But it is done. The moment past.
It was a most dissatisfying way to end a book. Something I don’t recommend.
I love to watch the garden from the kitchen window. You can view most of the back half of the garden, watch the stream of bees flying out of the hive in the direction of the food they are foraging. Yesterday I watched a sparrow, with some sort of stuffing in it’s beak. I’m not sure what it was but I know enough to realise that it was material for building a nest. A dash to get the camera to capture this sweet little moment and of course it was gone when I returned. Another sign of spring. I am collecting them like fruit from a tree.
I’m out in the garden taking photos of the blossom emerging when I notice a wood pigeon or Kereru in the broom bush by the fence. It is methodically stripping the bright yellow flowers from the tree. I sneak closer and start taking photos of it. As I click away, I realise there is another in the tree. Two of them. How magically. Something startles them and they fly away, in the clumsy heavy fashion that they are known for. I duck down thinking they are a bit close. I am sure the sound of their wings wooshing is a well know sound.
Mel, great newsletter.
Isn't it lovely to see seeds sprouting - it gives so much hope.
I am an impatient reader. Once I start a book no matter what I have to finish. This is sometimes an annoying trait especially with a bad book.
Until next newsletter
Melinda