The life of bees

Bees are disappearing from the planet and nobody seems to know why. But I worry about it. How will things be pollinated without bees? I've planted plenty of bee balm (although this is a pincushion flower above) around the estate to do my part. And when I go out to get the paper (another endangered species) just before 6 a.m., I walk out to the perennial garden in the front yard to see if there are any bees. I'm quite certain if anyone was up at that hour, they'd think Old Man Collins is off his rocker.

Two years ago, I had lots of bees. Last year, not very many. This year: Just a few more than last year.

I'll keep my eye on them and wonder whether bees are at all worried about this -- or anything else for that matter. Do they feel the pressure to make their deliveries on schedule? Is it good to be a bee? Is there something to be said for ignorance of the matters of the world?

I'll see you tomorrow morning, bee.

Spiderwort in the morning

This is the most interesting thing in the garden these days. I bought the Spiderwort plant and put it in a container on the deck. The flowers only unfurl in the morning, along the lines of a Morning Glory.



I like the fact a bumblebee was at the Spiderwort this morning. Click the images for the full effect.

Pretending

I've enjoyed this winter, as I've written about before, but it gets to be around the middle of February, and when the equipment trucks leave for spring training in Florida, and I start thinking about flowers and gardening and warmer weather.

Today, Carolie and I went to Como Conservatory in St. Paul for a walk through the new Tropics area and a visit to the Flower Show.

Pass the seed catalog, please.

Squirrel patrol

I come from a long line of squirrel haters. If a scientific study were to come out tomorrow that global warming is making squirrels extinct, most everyone in my family, I think, would start every car they own, turn up the thermostat (after changing the heating system from fuel oil to coal... good, dirty coal), light a fire in the fireplace and break into the refrigerator's compressor long enough to release the freon into the atmosphere.

My Dad spent a large chunk of his retirement catching squirrels in the backyard and then hauling them over to Crow Hill to release them. They either found their way back, or there were plenty of ready replacements. He's dead now. The squirrels are still there.

They had a dog, Sam, who loved to run after the squirrels. She, too, is dead.

My mother is still very much alive and chasing squirrels, too, who are also -- it should be pointed out, still very much alive.

Somewhere along the line, there is a genetic disorientation in the Collins clan, because I recently moved the bird feeder in the front yard over to just in front of the window in the family room, so I could watch birds and squirrels. The birds don't seem to mind the squirrels, and neither do I.

I have to go. I have to let the dog out. He wants to chase some squirrels. He thinks they're rabbits that climb trees. Stupid dog.

A trip to Tower Hill

Here's some pictures from the visit to the botanical garden at Tower Hill in Boylston, Mass.

I took this shot to show the dandelions. I'm back in Minnesota now, and the dandelions are starting to coming out. How come some lawns -- this one, for example -- look good with dandelions and others don't?



My mother checks out the daffodils.



I really miss New England's architecture.


Spring is quite farther ahead in New England than Minnesota. It was great to see lots of flowering trees. Coming home, I realized I didn't miss much here.



I should've written down what this tree is called. It sure is gorgeous!



Tell the truth: You want your house to look like this, right?



The estate overlooks Wachusett Reservoir, which provides drinking water to Boston, about 35 miles away. Mt. Wachusett -- the highest peak in Eastern Massachusetts -- is on the right.



Here's a slideshow on Flickr with about 3 dozen photos from vacation.