A Love Letter to the Day and Place

 

This Place

 

This Place 

For K.

They tell me you are ready to leave this place. This place will miss you, my friend.

I want to believe you will return . . . as a Sitka bumble bee in a Nootka rose, as a chatty kingfisher, as water caressing the stones on the beach.

I want you to see this beautiful place with its bunnies quietly mowing the lawn in the yard and chomping down the bush daisies. The young ones zooming along the edge of the snowberry shrubs, fleeing to the shade when the eagle witters overhead.

I want so much for you.

I want your soul to elevate with the song of the Swainson’s thrushes calling to each other from the forest canopy.

I want you to be thrilled by the brilliant feathers of the western tanager feasting on ripe Saskatoon berries. I want you to taste the wine bright flavors of ripe red huckleberry, salmonberry, thimbleberry, wild strawberry and blackberry. 

I want you to revel in the dappled light of ocean spray blossoms in the soft morning light.

I want you to be surprised by the visitors on the silver wood of the railing of the deck: white crowned sparrow, robin, Anna’s hummingbird, western swallowtail and robber fly.

I want you to taste the fresh salad greens mixed with calendula petals, goat cheese and pickled beets. The mushroom quiche I made with Swiss chard and garlic scapes from the farmer’s market.

I want to embrace you and say “You have beautiful eyes and your laugh makes my heart sing”.

I want you to savor the scent of seaweed on the beach, honeysuckle, lavender, and Douglas fir.

I want to hold your hand and say, “Do you remember when you were a child and life was fresh and new”? I want you to remember life as it was, before all this heartbreak, pain and fatigue. Innocence on the prairie. Wild cucumbers and prickly roses at the side of the gravel road. The meadowlarks singing on fence posts. The dippered sky at night in winter when you lay on your sled in snow, looking up at the North Star.

Let’s watch the sun rise one more time. Please?

The kingfisher releases you. The ocean gives you back to the earth. The rocks underneath your bare feet bless you and whisper good bye. The loon cries with longing for you and falls silent.

Good bye my friend.

I miss you before you are even gone.

I miss you.

I miss you.

A Poem for Solstice

The thimbleberry was so ripe

it fell into my palm.

Seeds crunched against my teeth,

the bright flavour of summer solstice

against my tongue.

I thanked the bumble bees

and asked forgiveness of the Swainson's thrush

and the small black bear that crossed my path.

You are Invited to A Solstice Bee Walk

 

Summer Solstice Bees + Botany Walk and Mini Artist Talk

June 21 2026 / 1:45pm - 3:30pm

OFF-SITE EVENT – 814 TASMAN ROAD, MERVILLE, BC (Brian and Sarah McLoughlin Park)

As a kickoff to Pollinator Week, you are invited to a Summer Solstice Bees + Botany Walk and Mini Artist Talk by Lori Weidenhammer, AKA Madame Beespeaker, who is currently the 2026 Comox Valley Art Gallery Curated Residency artist-in-residence at the McLoughlin Gardens cottage. During this artist-facilitated walk, will learn to identify some of the many types of beautiful native bees who are found in the gardens and discover the interesting relationships they have with the native and cultivated flowers on site.

The information for registration is on the event page.

The Bumble Bees of McLoughlin Cottage

 

Bombus melanopygus on Nootka Rose

It is such a privilege to be in residence at the McLoughlin Gardens in June when the roses and snowberry are blooming and the gardens buzzing with bumble bees. Most of the bumble bees I'm seeing now are workers, with a few early males out and about, and maybe one or two late queens. 

Bombus flavifrons resting on a common snowberry leaf

The snowberry performs a very important function in the production of nectar over several weeks, even months.  This is particularly important to feed the adult bees and give them the energy to collect pollen. Roses only provide pollen, so having roses and snowberry together in the garden provides good synergy for pollinators. It's so sweet to hear the little bumble bee workers vibrating the stamens in the roses to access the pollen.  This yellow-fronted bumble bee was taking a well-deserved rest from nectaring on common snowberry.

Bombus vancouverensis vancouverensis on California lilac

When I first arrived, the California lilac was at peak bloom and bumble bees love to scramble over the purple blossoms collecting pollen.  You can see the lovely pollen load here on this Vancouver Island bumble bee worker. She's mixed a bit of bee spit with the pollen to give it this putty-like consistency.

Bombus occidentalis on foxglove

I was thrilled to see western bumble bees here as they can be a vulnerable species. I'll keep an eye out for more of them, but so far I've only seen two individuals with their sweet white bee butts. You can just see some grains of white pollen deposited by the foxglove on the thorax of this bee.

Bombus mixtus on Nootka rose

The fuzzy-horned bumble bees are the most plentiful here, so there are likely one or more nests close by. They love the snowberry and the Nootka roses. Their buzz pollination adds punchy notes and rhythm to the natural soundscape here at the cottage.

Bombus sitkensis on common snowberry

It's also wonderful to see the Sitka bumble bees here. They are true generalists, but they seem to be the species that loves the white cultivated roses the best. The scent of these roses are intoxicating. And you'll see them filling up on nectar in the snowberry as well.

Bombus vosnesenskii on creeping buttercup

I've only seen one runty yellow-headed bumble bee here, which is why this photo is not up to par. It was in a flower that I admit I love to hate, that darned creeping buttercup. Well, at least it's good for something! As far as Island bumble bees go, I'm missing the Bombus californicus and the cuckoo bumble bee species. Of course, I've uploaded these bumble bee observations to our BC Native Bee tracker Project on iNaturalist. Let's see how many bees we can identify while I'm here. 

The Moth and the Sparrow

 

The sparrow looked at the moth and saw a faint reflection of itself. During this moment of confusion, the moth flew away into the night.

Botanical Blues: Eco-explorations with cyanotype prints

 

I am so excited to share I'll be showing a collection of my art at Wayside Books in Osoyoos in March 2026. The opening will be on March 6, from 4-7 pm during the First Friday celebration of the arts in Osoyoos. I'll also be selling my book, the revised edition of Victory Gardens for Bees, photo cards and "menditation" hearts. I hope to see you at the opening!

As a self-confessed “bee nerd” and advocate for protecting native bees, I have a deep love of the plants that provide pollinators with food and nesting resources. In recent years, I have been exploring the art of creating cyanotypes (aka “sun prints”) that reveal the delicate outlines and textures of pressed plant specimens. As an eco-feminist, I am also passionate about using materials collected at thrift shops to recycle and turn into textile art. You might even find something you donated to a local shop made into something new and funky.

Working on this show in the winter has been healing—especially on dreary days. The shades of cyanotype blue are very pleasing to the brain, standing in for the blue sky. I love those times when I really get into the zone, using stitching as a kind of calming and soothing daily diary. It’s especially pleasing when I let my body make decisions on stitching and cutting rather than overthinking it.