Last night on the brief walk to Pasta Moon to watch the game (Yessss!) and to eat pizza & vino with Nicole, I stopped suddenly, back tracked a few feet, bent over and examined the sidewalk. She said, “No Jenn, it’s not a dead bumble bee it’s a broken piece of asphalt. Come on!”.
That’s right. I collect dead bees. I store them in apothecary bottles and put them on my office shelves for the future, when the world’s currency is bee.
Anyway. The whole thing reminded me of a very sad photo shoot I did the other week of a honey bee in my garden. He was clearly dying and I took about 100 shots of the process. Poor guy was at the end of his buzz and simply sputtering out on the tip of a viola flower. Here he is: