Monday, May 18th
So we have a “president” who is taking a drug not approved by the FDA for Covid-19… or says he is. I really cannot be bothered to deal with that. At this point it would be a naïve person who accepted the “president” at his word.
Today, as I was looking at the bees, I recalled an old school-mate of mine called Beesley. Beesley was an ink-stained and spotty fellow, mild and much given to the collecting of stamps. A gentle soul. It occurs to me now that his name probably derived from Bees’ Leigh, or possibly Beo’s leigh, meaning one who lived in the valley where the bee hives were. Clearly he had in his blood the sort of ancestral knowledge that I for one, find singularly lacking in myself when survey the hive in my garden. With a name like Hunter I’m only too well aware that the clan from which I emerged was a Scots hunting sub-clan, well known for their keen eyesight and ability to shoot. Which is what I have, or used to have, when I was younger.
That’s why I posted this picture of the gopher that came to our front yard. No one else was quick enough to see it. I still have the hunter’s eyes – to some extent.
Beesley went on to become an ambassador to some odd country and is now probably a Lord of the Realm, a reward bestowed upon him by a Grateful Country.
We have, all of us, in our deep roots all kinds of unacknowledged awareness and wisdom. We tend not to know this. Mine tends to remind me that I am just one creature of many species on this bit of earth. I have no ultimate ‘rights’ to anything. I have only the responsibility to look after it.