Summer snow

Early this morning I went to check the irrigation to the olive trees up the hill. When I came back toward the house, I noticed the hood (bonnet) of the car was covered with a thin layer of what looked like snow. Mid-July doesn’t often give us that phenomenon. Sure enough it was tiny blossoms that had fallen from the privet trees near the car.

The trees were alive with bees and wasps taking advantage of the millions of blossoms coming into full nectar-bearing, and they were knocking them off by the handful. A steady shower of pale blossoms landed beneath the trees, making a wintry scene till the wind blew them away to make drifts against any upright surface. Nature’s abundance is astounding. Who knows—maybe one of the mature seeds from one of the seven trees may become a tree some day, but most likely that won’t come to pass. But that’s okay; Nature made a lot of fat bees instead.

A bloomin’ good day

Hilary sent some iPhone pictures she took of Ben in a field of flowers they found on their way back to Death Valley. Amazing how a desert can bloom so suddenly.

Outside our kitchen window is a large apricot tree. It was planted maybe 30 years ago, and every year it fills with the most brilliant blossoms. Unfortunately, there are no other apricot trees within flying range of the average honeybee, so we get maybe six apricots a year if we’re lucky. If we got another apricot tree, we’re told, we’d get tons of apricots from the big one. Worth considering, but then it’s a whole ’nother tree to irrigate through the hot summers.

I’ll think about it.