"Gosh, what're you?"
"I'm the same Carpenter Bee Normaphotoed in your previous post."
"Yes, I remember...
...but you're all yellow up top now."
"True. Weather's heating up, Geo. What you see is sunscreen."
"You use pollen for sunscreen?"
"We use pollen for everything, like in Shakespeare."
"Hamlet? 'To bee or not to bee?'(act3,scene1)"
"Don't get silly, Geo. It's 'to thine own self bee true' --Pollenius's line (act1,scene3)."
"I believe that's 'Polonius'. "
"Well don't tell anybody or the whole ecology could crash. Go and visit the other leaf and petal workers instead. I'm sure you'll see the need for discretion."
"'Most humbly (not bumblebee) do I take my leave, my lord.(act1, scene3)'"
"That's better, Geo. Now go see how your other friends are getting along. Go see Ladybug on the roses."
"Ah, there she is. Hello!"
"Hello yourself, human. Stop staring at my butt."
"Then, turn around. I can't get into the roses for another angle."
"Too busy eating aphids --who are you anyway?"
"I'm Geo. I write a blog.
"Geo.? I've heard of you. You're the clumsy idiot who stepped on his college counselor in 1970. Get out of here."
"Well, that was an accident. I notice you have no wing-markings, does that mean...?"
"I am a Ladybug of spotless reputation. Now please move on so I can eat these blameless screaming aphids. I believe an old friend of yours is sitting on a sage leaf. Goodbye! "
"'I shall in all my best obey you, Madam.(act1,scene2).'...Darwin? Darwin Doorbooger? is it really you? "
"But yes, it is I. Hello old friend! You look the same,Geo., but --alas!-- I am turning all sorts of impossible colors."
"Yes, that happened to me after a pacemaker change-out. Are you all right?"
"I feel ok, but am concerned about all this talk of Hamlet."
"You are turning a lovely green, Darwin. How would Shakespeare trouble you?"
"He also wrote Two Gentlemen Of Verona, Geo. What if I should turn black and be mistaken for a castanet?"
"You could be clicked to rhythmic ruin in a Tarantella!"
"Exactly! Can you help?"
"Don't worry, Darwin, I know where we can get yellow sunscreen and unwanted wing-spots that will prevent such calamity. Hop into my palm, there's a bee and a ladybug I'd like you to meet.
Quite delightful! I wasn't aware that insects and others were so cultured.
ReplyDeleteThey are in my yard, Tom. Everything I know about Shakespeare I learned from this forested property.
DeleteIt seems the world of non-human animals suffers from the same affliction as we. We know what we are, but know not what we may be.(act 4, scene 5) Ophelia may have been the wisest of them all.
ReplyDeleteTrue, but I can't help wishing Ophelia had left Denmark for Italy and married Romeo.
DeleteI don't know about that. After all Romeo is the one who died.
DeleteTrue, but maybe Juliet could have moved up north and a happy, dramatic life with Hamlet. Some sort tragedian exchange program like we do with high school students in the American Field Service.
DeleteThat poor ladybug. Someone must have out-outed her damned spots. :)
ReplyDeleteI love, love, LOVE this post, dude. Great pics, and oh-so much clever banter. We have more than our share of bugs in these parts, but none of them talk to me. They only hum. (I guess they don't remember the words...?)
Lady Macbug?
DeleteI'd like to see Darwin decked out in yellow pollen and black spots ... what, no photo?? No Geodoodle?? Ah well, I have my imagination ...
ReplyDeleteI imagine he'd look quite dapper!
DeleteWell, you certainly put a much-needed sting into Shakespeare. Hamlet fans are still buzzing about it (Gawd help me, I couldn't resist...)
ReplyDeleteThe photos are a great accompaniment.
And I like the line "clicked to rhythmic ruin in a Tarantella".
Thanks, Jon. It's hard to cast insects in a play; the actors keep eating each other.
DeleteWhat an enlightened garden and residents that dwell so near. They must think of Normaphoto as their Yousuf Karsh or Annie Leibovitz.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Tom. Norma's garden is full of little friends perched on stems and leaves without the least fear of harm in her. The two great photographers you mention are well-known and respected by her and I think the wild things pose because they approve.
DeletePosts such as this are why I thought you were a retired English professor ~ LOL!
ReplyDeleteAn English professor who was a lot of fun. My biggest chuckle: "Don't get silly, Geo. It's 'to thine own self bee true' --Pollenius's line (act1,scene3)." Must be because I spent a lot of time explaining pollination to second and third graders over the years. I could handle teaching "plant sex" to the little kiddos, but lord save me from teaching "people sex" to the fourth and fifth graders! We all have our niche. Normaphotos are wonderful, as always!
Thank you, Louise. My delight in English comes from my mother who was a teacher of languages --and an avid pun-maker. Also, friend of over 50 years, Willie, was my high school English teacher and still sometimes corrects my grammar. I really am a retired gardener, however my eldest son is a writer and senior editor at VIZ Media and his brothers and sister have been published, so I have to watch my usage and syntax. Will relay compliment to Norma.
DeleteEven our garden friends have their issues I see. Glad you could help.
ReplyDeleteDear Delores, they bring such life and beauty to our gardens --our world-- it is a privilege, an honor, to help.
DeleteYou have a crowded garden. I see they are busy adapting you to their realms. : )
ReplyDeleteIt's a lovely crowd, Amy. They are little friends of all the world.
DeleteKafka would have been proud!
ReplyDeleteGenerous Sage, thank you, but I resolved many years ago to forego parties from which I woke as a monstrous insect.
DeleteThis post is so delightful, Geo.
ReplyDeleteAs are your comment and you, Arleen.
DeleteI loved this! Smiled all the way through.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Sandra. You encourage me!
Delete