Bumble Bees

Bee

Bumble Bee

Sat out in my garden on this bright morning, it was not difficult to see all the beauty around me. Yet for a moment I could not feel the warmth of the day, let alone see the charm of my surroundings. I did not recognise the array of colours emanating from foxgloves and artic poppy’s, or the blues of corn flowers, chives and flowering sages. Let alone the pinks and violets, the warming yellows, the profuse greens, all unstinting in their efforts to bring light into my mind, to wash away the pain.

But when my eyes did open, the colours of nature came flooding in, to wash away any discomfort. Then the sound of bumble bees harvesting approached me, then took control. Then I saw them completing for the flower heads, and dancing in frustration when others beat them to the pollen.

What a difference a few hours make. For by three o’clock in the afternoon I was sat in the Alhambra studio at Bradford, as part of the audience of a Look North program debating about Europe, should we be in or out. The program was ably compared by Harry Gration. Sadly a few of the answers from the panel and the attitude of some people in the audience, led to the production feeling like theatrical theatre for me. There was just to much histrionic behaviour from a few individuals, which resulted in my not enjoying the recording. Sadly much was said that seemed to come from unsubstantiated beliefs. This was a program that I had hoped would have offered more than a few grains of factual information. The forth coming referendum could have serious repercussions for Great Britain, and perhaps for Europe, if not the world. I had hoped for better.

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