My Love Affair with Bees (and Other Pollinators)
When I was in grade school, we lived in a typical St. Louis bungalow. It had a wide front porch and a small back yard. A wire fence separated our yard from the neighbor's yard. On it grew an abundant vine of sweet pea with huge purplish-pink blossoms. Giant bumble bees grazed the blossoms throughout the summer. My youngest brother, John, was still a baby sustained by jars of Gerber baby food. I would take the smallest jars -- the squat ones -- and herd a bee into the jar and then screw on the lid. I was capturing the largest bee in the smallest jar. I do not recall why I did it, or why I chose that method. I do recall several people suggesting I was daft or careless or fearless. I'd have one captured bee at a time. But, I had them all summer long. I now have a garden that blooms from late February to late September. I pay attention to my pollinators, which include bees, flies, wasps, and perhaps bats. I protect them from injury, unless a clueless group of wa