Showing posts with label snowdrops. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snowdrops. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Sweaters for Bees

It's 12 degrees Celsius under a mackeral sky. Almost warm enough to check on our bees and see how many have survived. There's a fair amount of bee skat on the upper entrance of the hive, which may indicate they've got the flu. It's that time of year my friend Brian Campbell says he knits tiny sweaters for his bees. I love that image!

What's in bloom? The winter jasmine has been blooming for weeks and the witch hazel's been out for awhile too. Yesterday I noticed pale green hazel catkins, snow drops, and the pale palette of heather blossoms. What's blooming in your neighborhood?

We are busy poring over seed catalogs, getting our lists made and sketching out our garden beds on paper and in our imagination. This year I'll be focusing on tea herbs for the bees. Let me know if you have any favorites. If you have room for a little patch of clover I'm going to get some seed and I can give you some. I just found out how much dried clover buds cost and zowee, it's worth growing your own.

Oh and if anyone has a fail-proof trap for catching mice, let me know. A family moved into our house and yet again they are über mice and avoid every kind of trap we have. And yes, they found my hive frames but I managed to move them before they did much damage. Here's hoping you all have good news when you open your hives this year: "A hive for every one and honey too."

Thursday, January 29, 2009

The Crow Hour

Yesterday I went for my Wednesday ginkgo walk around Tea Swamp Park. A ginko walk is a meditative walk with the intention to write a haiku. There were a variety of beautiful cloud formations in the soft, late-afternoon sun. As I passed Sophia and 19th I noticed seagulls circling in a thermal updraft. Then the crows came--innumerable murders of crows heading off to Burnaby to roost. This is a daily occurrence in Vancouver. You can set your coffee break to it. It still amazes me every time I see it.


One day I was sitting on the bus once with a bunch of skateboarders sitting next to me. One looked out the window and said, "It's the crow hour." His friends looked out the window in silent meditation. It was a haiku moment.I had even thought about doing an art project about it--getting other artists to blog about what they are doing when the crows pass overhead, but I found someone has already done a major project focusing on this behavior.

I found info on Suzanne Northcott's Crossing Boundary Installation, an article about the show in the Canadian Universities Press website, and an article about the installation in the Georgia Straight.


there is a birch tree in my heart,

its bark

breaking, mending

breaking, mending







Sweet snowdrops!