Watching the Bees

Back in the days of us, my wife did most of the plant shopping. I did the plant planting. She’d set them out. I’d dig the holes and put them in the ground. Usually, especially when we moved to our Hill Country home, she’d buy the plants listed on our planting plan. Yes, we had a plan, concocted by a landscape architect. All native was our only guidance. Sometimes, however, the variety bought wouldn’t quite match the plan and the performance would be other than expected.

Take our Yellow Bells (Tecoma stans). It’s a native that theoretically grows between 3 to 6 feet tall and blooms from April to November. You see them all over town through the spring and summer. By comparison, ours grows well over ten feet tall and only blooms in November. Unfortunately, I never read the pot tag to know what variety she bought. So, I’m at a loss to know if this is normal behavior, and the plant’s not talking. Of course, this could all be down to placement and access to sunlight and water, but I have no way of knowing, although a botanist would say, yes you do, you just have to look close. I may try that.

Back to the plant. The blooms are lovely and the bees like them, too. Yesterday I stood by the plant and watched the bees. They’d land on the big blooms crawl inside, disappear, scoop up nectar, dose themselves with pollen, crawl out, fly off, and go to the next flower. They, the bees, were diligent and there are lots of flowers. It was a pleasant break from the world around me, standing there watching the bees. In fact, I think I’ll go out and do it again today. I may even allow my self to be sentimental and think back to the days of us.