You're just weird exclaimed Maeve. She was not the first person who declared that about me. However as impulsive as I can be I had thought about my actions that drew her response, for some time. The potential for it being a painful experience put me off, yet the temptation, no, the curiosity and desire to get closer to another life form persisted since I first started observing them. When the perfect opportunity stared me in the eye, how could I not reach out? Another life form was if not calling out to me, if not inviting me, then at least placing itself directly in my orbit, my reach. My curiosity and desire overrode my caution.
How can one not pet a Border Collie puppy dog, a purring Norweigan Forest cat, a Shetland pony? I started with cute and safe. I looked upon the Hummingbird Clearwing as it stared at me with an eye nearly the size of a marble as it extended its proboscis into a spotted bee balm flower just about at my eye level.
This was the closest observation I had ever encountered with this flying crawfish-looking creature. The feathery antennae gave it away to be a moth, the largeness hinted at its name, (Hummingbird Clearwing Moth) while its largesse left me enchanted. I accepted the invitation. With childlike desire to explore further, my index finger reached out over the hovering reddish-brown head, gently touching down upon the Clearwing tracing down in massage mode as the creature amazingly continued feeding seemingly oblivious to my presence, never mind my petting the silken feathering. The moment was brief, the touch, the closeness, the connection - eternal.
Of this Maeve would likely have oohed and ahhed, for it was only later that my more daring actions led to her exclamation.
Only on our Rugosa roses do I observe so many bumblebees as I was viewing on the spotted bee balm as they shared a feast along with the Clearwing, various other moths, orange-colored Fritalaries, and sweat bees of various shades of sparkling green.
Bumblebees are perhaps my favorite species to observe and photograph. They fly about relatively slowly, though they almost never stop 'moving' as they do their bumblebee specialty of vibrating their wing muscles to loosen trapped pollen. The dozen or so species in our area keep the variety interesting yet not overwhelming in identification efforts. Perhaps the easiest of all to identify due to its coloration is the Tri-colored bumblebee. Though not as commonly seen as some of the others, of the dozens dancing around and about the Clearwing, a Tri-colored B.B. caught my attention like an orange in a bowl of apples.
Did the Tri-colored like the Clearwing become entranced as to not skirt away at my immediate presence? It was as though I too had tasted the sweet nectar for the first time - I was hooked. I was aware Bumblebees may sting to defend themselves or their nest. Yet having observed bumblebees up close a gazillion times and never received such a reproof I ventured forth to repeat my Clearwing experience. Would the bumblebee find me as inconspicious?
Already my face rested barely inches from the busily feeding bee, its proboscis reminding me of the hidden stinger on the other end. A cloud must have unfolded as though a shade lifted allowing color-enhancing light to shine upon this most colorful shimmering creature. The yellow, black, and that glowing orange short bristling of hairs seduced me. I had to touch it. I had to pet this bumblebee.
The bee shifted as it slowly inched around the flower reaching into each pantry where the pollen and nectar were stored. Would the bee mind the audacity of my intrusion? I would soon find out. Only seconds remained before the bee would fly to the next feeding station.
Sometimes, while observing insects and wanting to get the best possible focus for a good photo, I take too long and miss the shot as the insect impatiently darts away. I try to remember to shoot first, act (adjust camera settings) after the first shot.
So now, my self-taught 'training' kicked in. Or was it that child-like naivety that we lose as we grow up and experience pain, disappointments, and instructions of warning that inhibit our natural curiosity inclinations? The more I observe insects the more my curiosity peaks, my awareness of abundant diversity expands, the more my child-like intuitive interest in all life forms awakens.
Once again my index finger, as though it was the nose of a hound dog, shot out over the bumblebee, and yes, finally, my first petting of a bumblebee occurred. I had longed for, waited for the opportunity, waited for the courage, the willingness to risk it - feeling; the just dive in the cold water mantra had taken hold at just the right moment, with just the right bumblebee.
Maeve, I called out. She was further up the yard sitting in a lounge chair reading a book. Maeve I called again, I just petted a bumblebee. Somewhat aghast she called back, you did what? I finally got up the courage to pet a bumblebee, and I did it. I petted it, and a Clearwing as well. What did it feel like she asked. All I could think of at the moment was to respond, soft, it was soft.
But it was more than soft, it was exhilarating, like diving hundreds of feet in the ocean and coming eye to eye with a Dumbo Octopus. I, albeit briefly, petted that which lives its life, goes about feeding, getting wet when it rains, cleaning off mites and debris, finding shelter, building a home, mating, raising progeny, avoiding predation, and dying - all without hardly a glancing notice from me and perhaps from most folks as well.
I wanted to pet another one and another one. I wanted to frolic with them, throw them a ball and see if they would bring it back (a tiny ball of course). I wanted to offer them a sugar cube, a toy flower. I wanted to hug them and speak to them and hear them even if it was all buzz talk. I wanted to feel their tiny vibrations as though listening to their hearts like I did with my kids when they were so very small.
LIFE. Life is so good. Life in plants, in animals, in insects. Life floating about us. I just read that spiders are also great flyers. They use electrostatic forces, breeze, and long strands of silk from their bodies to help provide lift. Their ballooning effect usually carries them short distances but they have been documented more than three miles above Earth's surface and out at sea. If I ever run out of living species to observe in our backyard, I only need to look up!
Observing other living species is rewarding. Ask me, I petted one.
Bernie
Discovering life in our backyard - again and again.