Photo Caption: Last week I went to a local park while I was in Miami and discovered there were no bees. I’ve been in a wistful state of grief and anxiety since that walk in the park.
I scanned the park for flowers. Not much blooming. As a beekeeper I tend to take stock of flora for bee foraging automatically.
Thinking maybe it’s late in the season, even though it’s the tropics and I’ve seen bees that live outside on trees over winter in Florida. I kept scanning. I found patches of clover on the grass. No bees.
Devastated, I couldn’t even sit and meditate like I had planned. Too hot. And it felt hollow and dead. I was relieved to see a giant lizard in the mangroves.
As a child, I would lay in the clover at William Land Park, under the stretching sycamore canopy, listening to the hum of bees all around me. The cool damp grass on my back.
Finding no bees in the clover has shaken my core. My neighbor recently sprayed their property and it wiped out my last native melipona beehive. I don’t want to keep bees here now. It’s now a death trap, not a sanctuary.
Bees are going to be a central theme in my upcoming 40-day meditation challenge, Breath of the Cosmos: a meditation for Radical Self-Love.
As I prepare to launch this week, I encourage you to keep an eye out for our pollinators. Do what you can to plant bee forage for them this winter in the northern hemisphere. (My seasonal planting guide has tons of ideas, link in bio). And put out a water spot for them in Southern Hemisphere.
Meditation has helped me find resilience for climate chaos, sitting with what comes up, especially my grief for Pachamama and her kin. Thank you for looking out for our pollinators.
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#clover #wildflower #beemagic #bees #pinkflowers #climatestrike #savethebees🐝 #meditationchallenge