September 12, 2023
Oh, I love this! Sunflowers are my favorite.
Love your new phrase! Photos are fabulous. Thank you!
Love sunflowers…. Leslie has been planting them every summer for years now❤️😍👍🌻🌻🌻🌻🐝🐝🐝
Beautiful pics Karen! I love bees and sunflowers, both are so cheery and amazing to watch. In autumn evenings, the bees like to sleep on the seedheads of my large sunflowers. They congregate their like the head is a bee hive.
Sleepless nights are the worst! Hope you sleep soundly the rest of the week. xx
Thank you for treating us to sunflowers and bees after your sleepless night. They are both full of delight for me. I remember when I could hear the bees on our horse pasture on a sunny afternoon. I thought of it as a happy purr. I would love to hear if again. Wishing you happy dreams as you listen to the bees on your field of sunflowers.
I stopped and watched a butterfly on one of our sunflowers the other day. Just really stopped and asked myself, “What is it doing?” And of course, standing there, I remembered how gorgeous and magical a butterfly is. Going to start studying the bees, too.
So glad to see our friends the bees alive and well and doing their job!
These photos are perfect for a rainy day.
Sorting out my emails tonight when I realized that I had not gotten back to you about hearing bees. Oh yes, bees are quite lovely to listen to. Check out 'humming bees' on your favorite search engine. And then of course there is this lovely poem by W B Yeats to sooth one's nerves.
The Lake Isle of Innisfree
W. B. Yeats
1865 – 1939
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.
This poem is in the public domain.