On Bumblebees

I have been meaning to write about bumblebees for quite some time. We first saw them on the Dales Way. In Britain. They are wonderful little creatures. In Britain they were black all over. Here in France they have yellow sripes as well. Richmond colours. Perhaps the ones we saw in the UK were juveniles and they would develop the yellow sripes as the season wore on (it was early spring when we were there ...)

Why are bumblebees all that marvellous? I'll tell you. They are cute; they mind their own business; they operate alone (you will never see a swarm of bumblebees) and they bumble along, never giving you a chance of getting to know them. Little puffs of cuteness black-and-yellowly scooting across the landscape in a self-absorbed, determined quest for sustenance. But who can tell what they are eating? They don't seem to be seeking out flowers. They are aren't sucking anyone's blood. They don't have stingers. They just 'are'. I love them. As much as moles.

I saw one today at a chateau we were visiting and I realised I had not seen a bumblebee for quite some time. I felt loss at having had no contact with one.

Bumblebees make me feel happy and I wish we had them in Australia. [Then again, if they were introduced into Australia they may well transmogrify into monsters, as what happened to the cane toad and the prickly pear. They might have developed teeth and stingers and tusks and have started carrying off sheep and small dogs. There may be no way of getting rid of them ...]

... but I do like bumblebees that I have met over here and needed to share this with you ...