Three feasts

Feast of colours,
feast for the bee,
feast for my eyes.

Satur(day)ation

The last potato cellared for this year,
my heart rose up like a falcon to the sky:
Two bees and a bumble-bee 
enjoying a sunflower feast.

Harbingers of spring

Busy visitor
Mason bee meets daffodil
Harbingers of spring

Plumbees

No rain.
Plums fall by the thousands from the trees.
What saddens us delights the bees.

Bee's feast

Bee's feast.
Echinops sphaerocephalus
Honey galore.

Honey, honey

Deliciously sweet
the hollyhocks of Seanhenge.
Oh, and the honey!

Mayday

There's a humming and buzzing,
a droning and whirring in and around Seanhenge*,
and a blaze of colours that would fill anyone
who has ears to hear, eyes to see and a nose to smell,
with joy and happiness.

* Thankfully, Seanhenge happens to be not situated
in . . . and . . . and . . . and . . . and . . .
oh well, you get the picture.
I am grateful.