The Bivouac and the Bard

A walk along the woods edge in April is a wonderful experience for the wanderer. 

Spring has transformed winter's dreary tangle of bare vines and branches into a marvelous mosaic of myriad leaf shapes and sizes in almost every shade of green, setting the stage for nature's next act. 

Dominating this scene are the vines, 

tendrils clinging, shoots advancing,

climbing, clawing, clambering,

sunlight drawing them nigh,

where buds erupt and blossoms open and pollinators abide!

 Oh, Pollinators! 

Sweat bees and bumblebees and carpenter bees and wasps and the humble honeybee...

Without the bees, there are no fruit. 

And without the fruit, there are no seeds. 

And without the seeds, there are no plants.

And without the plants, there are no woods' edges to wander...

And with no woods' edges to wander, there are no wanderers.

Today, along this woods edge, 

the bees and wanderers are one. 

A rare and precious sight, this bivouac of bees.

Wandering in search of a proper hive, 

scouts on the move, 

the queen and her thousands of followers awaiting their consensus before settling anew.

This year, with the wanderers' help,

there will be blackberries and muscadines aplenty on the edge of the wood. 

Next year and the next and the next?

That depends.

Perhaps the Bard posed The Question best, some four centuries back,

"To bee, or not to be..."

and still we wander, 

and await the answer yet.

Thanks to Brother Henry for the bivouac photos!