Slim Randles
I have to tell the Ballad of Hoser, to remain true to my readers. It began at the
beginning of summer, when I went out the back door to check on my tree seeds and
see if any miracles had occurred. Not on the growing of trees department, but as I
stood next to the garden cart with tools and rolls of new hose on it, a bumblebee
flashed past my face and then vanished into his or her duty of
collecting and distributing pollen. But where had he come from?
I have a serious respect for bumblebees, because they can temporarily cripple
you with a single sting, I knew from experience.
So when it cooled off that evening, here came the bumblebee back and as I
watched, he landed on the tool cart and solemnly walked into the faucet end of the
new garden hose. And as he entered, some of his day’s pollen fell off. I’d never
known anything to live in a hose, but we wished him well. His name, of course,
was Hoser.
Then one day we found his body lying next to his home entrance, so we wished
he’d lasted longer so we could brag on him, but that’s how life goes.
Then a couple of days ago, I was out there again and a bumblebee flew past my
face and later returned to the hose.
Meet Hoser II.
Haven’t used the hose yet for its intended purpose, but there’s always time for
that later on. Like winter. Or maybe next Spring.
Go Hoser II!
(BF) If pollinating plants and supporting our pollinators appeals to you, but
you’d feel cramped living in a hose, you might try https://xerces.org/. (unBF)
