Bees 2, Undisputed ?
- SteveShaw
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I love all such minibeasts. I found a huge, somewhat torpid bumble-bee on my path once. I gently removed it on to the grass lest someone should tread on it. Then, behind my back and unbeknown to me, it crawled back, into my shoe that was outside the back door. I slipped the shoe on and it stung my foot to kingdom come. If there is a God he's got a bloody funny sense of humour.
"Last night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quaff'd and swore."
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that'll never, never die.
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the lord of the dance, said he!
He jested, quaff'd and swore."
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that'll never, never die.
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the lord of the dance, said he!
- Walden
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So, they don't sting, but they bite and pull hair? They could appear on the Jerry Stinger show.I.D.10-t wrote: Stingless_bee
Reasonable person
Walden
Walden
- Nanohedron
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*rimshot*Walden wrote:So, they don't sting, but they bite and pull hair? They could appear on the Jerry Stinger show.I.D.10-t wrote: Stingless_bee
"If you take music out of this world, you will have nothing but a ball of fire." - Balochi musician
Here's a picture of a dead bee someone took. He's not my friend, except in a spiritual sense, because we both share this experience of this dead bee.
It's ironic, I think, that this bee worked so hard to make the comb and now lies dead on it.
I didn't know combs looked like that.
Why do insect legs fold up like that when they're dead?
Here's a picture of a bee being born.
He's dead now, too.
It's ironic, I think, that this bee worked so hard to make the comb and now lies dead on it.
I didn't know combs looked like that.
Why do insect legs fold up like that when they're dead?
Here's a picture of a bee being born.
He's dead now, too.
- burnsbyrne
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When I was about 6-7 years old, I was riding my bike when, all of a sudden, a bee flew up my nose. What are the chances of my nares and that bee inhabiting the same space at the same instant? I am sure that the bee was no less chagrined about it than I was, especially since she died and I didn't. It sure did bleed a lot. So I rode my bike back home and my mom, who was a nurse, told me to blow my nose, and out came the (now dead) bee. My nose eventually stopped bleeding and I went out to ride my bike again.
Just a short story about life in suburban Detroit in the 1950s.
Mike
Just a short story about life in suburban Detroit in the 1950s.
Mike
- scottielvr
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Heh. That's why, though I'm willing to uneasily tolerate the Insecta and Arachnida so long as they don't make any visible attempts to hurt me, I gotta strictly reserve "love" for beasts with 4 or fewer legs.SteveShaw wrote:I love all such minibeasts. I found a huge, somewhat torpid bumble-bee on my path once. I gently removed it on to the grass lest someone should tread on it. Then, behind my back and unbeknown to me, it crawled back, into my shoe that was outside the back door. I slipped the shoe on and it stung my foot to kingdom come. If there is a God he's got a bloody funny sense of humour.
(We shall not speak of the Myriapoda. And I do admit to love for certain Crustacea...the ones that go well with drawn butter).
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You might should submit that to Right Hand Pointing.burnsbyrne wrote:When I was about 6-7 years old, I was riding my bike when, all of a sudden, a bee flew up my nose. What are the chances of my nares and that bee inhabiting the same space at the same instant? I am sure that the bee was no less chagrined about it than I was, especially since she died and I didn't. It sure did bleed a lot. So I rode my bike back home and my mom, who was a nurse, told me to blow my nose, and out came the (now dead) bee. My nose eventually stopped bleeding and I went out to ride my bike again.
Just a short story about life in suburban Detroit in the 1950s.
Mike
When I was 3 or 4 years old, we had this big powder puff bush . . .
in the yard. As this says . . .
This did not escape my notice. Being much fascinated by insects, with the exception of spiders, I spent many a happy minute--being somewhat hyperactive, I didn't stick with any one activity too long--watching the comings and goings of the lovely bees and butterflies on that bush.
The powder puffs on the bush--I'll direct your attention back to the photo for a moment, so that you can observe this yourself--are fluffy with lots of little hairs sticking out.
As is the behind of a bee.
I actually remember the sequence of thoughts that went through my mind. Flower is fuzzy. Bee is fuzzy. Flower is soft, therefore bee is soft.
And there was one bee so busy in a fuzzy flower that he didn't notice me reaching out to touch his fuzzy little behind. I remember what followed very clearly, too.
He kind of stood up in surprise, buzzed for a microsecond, and then shoved his stinger into the tip of my index finger.
The next sound I heard was the simultaneous crashing open of every house door within half a block as mamas erupted out to see what child was emitting that ear-piercing scream.
Did I learn my lesson? No.
I have since reached out and stroked an io moth caterpillar and some kind of lovely green flying thing that turned out to have a stinger on it's back end about a half an inch long.
I know there is some risk involved in this, but there just isn't enough impulse control to make me stop. I just can't stop myself in time.
in the yard. As this says . . .
It is very attractive to bees and butterflies. As was ours.Powder Puff is a member of the the family Fabaceae. This family comprises about 200 species of plants from small shrubs to trees. Calliandra haematocephala (the plant pictured below) is a sub-tropical plant the family of which is native to the India, Mexico, Madagascar, South America and the United States. This species is grown as a hedge or shrub in the landscape for its powder-puff-type flowers. Very attractive to bees and butterflies.
This did not escape my notice. Being much fascinated by insects, with the exception of spiders, I spent many a happy minute--being somewhat hyperactive, I didn't stick with any one activity too long--watching the comings and goings of the lovely bees and butterflies on that bush.
The powder puffs on the bush--I'll direct your attention back to the photo for a moment, so that you can observe this yourself--are fluffy with lots of little hairs sticking out.
As is the behind of a bee.
I actually remember the sequence of thoughts that went through my mind. Flower is fuzzy. Bee is fuzzy. Flower is soft, therefore bee is soft.
And there was one bee so busy in a fuzzy flower that he didn't notice me reaching out to touch his fuzzy little behind. I remember what followed very clearly, too.
He kind of stood up in surprise, buzzed for a microsecond, and then shoved his stinger into the tip of my index finger.
The next sound I heard was the simultaneous crashing open of every house door within half a block as mamas erupted out to see what child was emitting that ear-piercing scream.
Did I learn my lesson? No.
I have since reached out and stroked an io moth caterpillar and some kind of lovely green flying thing that turned out to have a stinger on it's back end about a half an inch long.
I know there is some risk involved in this, but there just isn't enough impulse control to make me stop. I just can't stop myself in time.
- SteveShaw
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I'd go even further. My poor daughter freezes if she sees a spider in the bath, yet there is no spider in the UK that can so much as hurt a hair on a human head. I regularly have to go upstairs when screeches emerge from the bathroom, but, though I tell my wife and daughter that I've expelled the beast from the house, in truth I've merely rescued it from the bath and released it into some cupboard or pot plant or something. I love the idea of sharing my house with minibeasts so long as they're symbiotically-inclined (so no houseflies or cockroaches, thank you!)scottielvr wrote:[
Heh. That's why, though I'm willing to uneasily tolerate the Insecta and Arachnida so long as they don't make any visible attempts to hurt me, I gotta strictly reserve "love" for beasts with 4 or fewer legs.
(We shall not speak of the Myriapoda. And I do admit to love for certain Crustacea...the ones that go well with drawn butter).
"Last night, among his fellow roughs,
He jested, quaff'd and swore."
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that'll never, never die.
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the lord of the dance, said he!
He jested, quaff'd and swore."
They cut me down and I leapt up high
I am the life that'll never, never die.
I'll live in you if you'll live in me -
I am the lord of the dance, said he!