The bemo (a small minibus with somehow enough space to supposedly seat twelve adults and with enough character to run its own comedy night) turned through the contrast of grey concrete decorated with colour and chaos of the city streets. Twisting and turning, leaving behind the concrete structures, moped and vehicle pollution and instead moving forwards as the view opened up into the fresh air of the countryside and bamboo structures ahead.
I’m here, laying on the grass of the garden I grew up in. I’m watching the honey bees elegantly dance over and cling like hummingbirds on the clover blooms. The light of the evening sun is illuminating the subtle colours and its warmth is welcomed.
Continue reading “The Garden I Grew Up In – Bees and Butterflies”