My view from the milk stool this morning is about climate change. It terrifies me. We’re very, very dry here. Between drought and bugs – Mexican Bean Beetles and June Bugs, the garden is all but toast. I keep saying I’m going to irrigate it, yet it doesn’t get done. Maybe I will before next year. Maybe I should before next year so I don’t stress so much. At least we don’t have livestock that’s dependent upon the pasture HOWEVER I have livestock that’s dependent upon hay being grown locally. Hopefully he’s been getting more rain where he is. He’s further north, closer to South Carolina, which I understand is getting rain when we’re not.
We’re getting a tiny bit of rain today. It started milking while I was milking this morning so the sound on the roof made me happy.
We need three days of heavy rain. We need a hurricane.
Careful what you wish for.
There’s a term beekeepers use for this time of year, “dearth,” which means a scarcity or lack of something. That word is really close to death in my mind and when it comes to bees, it can mean death. In beekeeping terms, it means there’s not much nectar flow for the bees to harvest. If, for whatever reason, the bees didn’t harvest enough nectar during the spring flow, they’ll need to be supplemented with sugar water – which has it’s own problems – or they may starve – which is of course problematic.
I believe my bees are okay, but we’ll see.
The variety of pollinators is amazing to me. The one that’s on this passion flower is a black and white version of a honeybee. Or so it seems.
Until later …