Bee to the blossom

Though each season has its beauty and I am a big fan of winter, as the cool of winter freshens the air and the days shorten I do like to remember the beauty of summers past. And what is more reminiscent of summertime than vibrantly blooming flowers and the busy buzzing bees they attract.

Here, then, is a blog to brighten up those brief, grey and frequently wet days of approaching winter.

Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; Each to his passion; what's in a name? ~ Helen Hunt Jackson, ‘Vanity of Vanities’

How doth the little busy bee / Improve each shining hour, / And gather honey all the day / From every opening flower! ~ Isaac Watts, Divine Songs for Children, XX, ‘Against Idleness and Mischief’

A swarm of bees in May / Is worth a load of hay; / A swarm of bees in June / Is worth a silver spoon; / A swarm of bees in July / Is not worth a fly. ~ Anonymous, An old rhyme

The keeping of bees is like the direction of sunbeams. ~ Henry David Thoreau

One can no more approach people without love than one can approach bees without care. Such is the quality of bees.… ~ Leo Tolstoy

Such bees! Bilbo had never seen anything like them. "If one were to sting me," he thought, "I should swell up as big as I am!” ~ J. R. R. Tolkein, The Hobbit

Aerodynamically, the bumble bee shouldn’t be able to fly, but the bumble bee doesn’t know it so it goes on flying anyway. ~ Mary Kay Ash

They all seemed hungry, happy, and healthy enough in their buzzing – oh the days were hot, and the noise of bees filled the air that was dusty with pollen and sun haze.… ~ Janet Frame, Scented Gardens for the Blind

The men of experiment are like the ant; they only collect and use. But the bee ... gathers its materials from the flowers of the garden and of the field, but transforms and digests it by a power of its own. ~ Leonardo da Vinci

The only reason for making a buzzing-noise that I know of is because you're a bee ... The only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey ... and the only reason for making honey is so I can eat it. ~ Winnie the Pooh, A.A. Milne, The House at Pooh Corner

The flower doesn’t dream of the bee. It blossoms and the bee comes. ~ Mark Nepo

Picaflor’s pompons and pets

One of the things I’ve enjoyed most about working at Picaflor House has been the garden and the little critters who find nourishment in it on a daily basis. Our kids love it too: when we interviewed some of them a while back to get their comments for our 2011 annual report, it was hugely satisfying to hear them all mention how much they like the flowers and the colour.

In serious need of some hand cream here!

I’ve been a gardener since I was a tiny tot trying to help my dad maintain his always impressive vege garden. I imagine I was more hindrance than help but my dad was a patient soul and encouraged my love of growing things. My mum also had green fingers; our house was always full of shiny green pot plants and her flower garden was a joy to behold. I am ever grateful to them for passing on their love of gardening, growing things, and being green to me.

At Picaflor I am constantly getting my hands dirty, my nails broken, working the garden. I know I could use gloves but I hate them – I much prefer the feel of the soil. It’s so rewarding to see the plants flourish and blossom, and to see the numbers of butterflies, bees and other tiny beasties increasing.

Spot the wee beastie in this one?

I hope you've enjoyed this little meander through our garden.

What’s behind the blue door?

Actually, you will be surprised to find out what’s behind such a plain-looking door in a side lane in Oropesa, Peru.

We’ve been thinking about getting some guinea pigs to raise at school, partly to breed them to make some money and partly to teach the children how to care for other living creatures. Each day at Eufemia’s, the little cafe where we have lunch, we always exchange pleasantries with an old gentleman who lunches at the same time as us.

Today, when we were asking Eufemia questions about raising guinea pigs – she has recently acquired about 40 herself, the old gentleman was also providing us with answers and extra information, and we found out he also raises guinea pigs. He invited us to visit his house so, after we’d finished eating, we went to see him.

Lovely, heavily pregnant lady

Pens of little piglets

His is the blue door. And behind that door, as well as his house, he has a room full of around 200 guinea pigs of all shapes and sizes – a couple of bigger male studs in with the females they are busy servicing, separate small cages for heavily pregnant females who are about to give birth, pens for litters of around the same age, and a whole of heap of babies (they call them cria) scurrying around on the floor.

I love the rich chestnut brown colour of domesticated guinea pigs, and their fur is very soft, but it’s actually quite difficult to get near any of them. Unlike the guinea pigs kept as pets in the West, these little critters are extremely skittish and run around excitedly at the slightest movement near their pens. One thing that struck me was the noise – they squeak constantly, or wheek as some people call it. If you’ve never heard a guinea pig wheek, I found this short YouTube clip that will give you a good idea.

After visiting the guinea pigs, we were all set to leave when our elderly friend asked if we’d like to see his flowers. A few plants behind the house, I thought – how wrong I was! There were huge hot houses full of plants of all descriptions – and, interestingly, many of the plant names are exactly the same in Spanish, just pronounced differently.

We were amazed and a little stunned and totally delighted as the man proudly showed us around. And he looks 

after all these plants himself, propagating from seed and stem and leaf cutting, and eventually selling them to retailers as far away as Puno and Lima. He is a retired teacher, but now spends his days happily pottering in his wonderful garden. Who would have thought this little bit of paradise was lurking behind that bland looking front door!