Bumble Bees Bumbling

This was one of those hair raising moments that could quite easily replace retail therapy. I could have quite happily followed that bumble bee all day, all week even. It was a moment where nothing else mattered, the world was at peace with itself and bees will live forever.

As it flew away I felt abandoned, I wanted to scream “come back here”. But I didn’t for fear of looking crazed. It had gone, forever and I was left with a nice piece of cinematography that I will cherish forever and ever.

The reality is, humanity is not at peace with itself and bees existence is very much in danger. For a moment in time the bee which I am forever grateful to, fed my inner world, my existence was meaningful with purpose. I didn’t need to suffice my inner desires with consumption, nature did it for me, the best therapeutic moment I’d had in ages and I didn’t need to spend a penny. Possessions please, the poppy was my possession, I’d grown it in my garden. I’d planted the seeds, watered them and watched them grow. I didn’t need retail therapy because I was feeding my soul with the buzz of a bumble bee.

Collecting Pollen

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My husband, daughter and me found an ants nest when we visited Bedgebury National Pinetum and Forest, as well as an array of Buddleia’s alive with butterflies. Four out of five children now suffer with nature deficit disorder.

Managing my 14 year olds sons connection with nature was much easier when he was younger. Now he likes to be with his friends more than he likes to be with me.  We are lucky that we have a forest at the end of our garden which he does frequent. He hasn’t been out of the house for a while because no one likes the cold, only when there’s a blanket of snow. I advised to him to go climb a tree, something he’s awesome at. I’ve yet to meet someone who can climb a tree as well as he can.

Angel Underground

Angel Underground

I took this photo on my way back from Greenpeace Lobbyist training. This really is Angel underground station and sometimes I feel like I’m an angel underground. I was once compared to the trickster, who in psychotherapy, teaches us something about our inner self that we did not know. The trickster encourages us to strip away our pretensions and run naked through the forest. The trickster will encourage the death of the self but encourage an awakening at the same time. I enjoyed challenging the superficiality of my group of fellow students and I’d like to think that some learned something about themselves that they were previously unaware of.