Fiona

On one of the warmer days in early May, with our glass and screen doors open, Lou looked out onto our apartment’s deck. He noticed a fuzzy bee clinging to the white rod that opens and closes the vertical blinds to his right. He watched as she crawled down the length of the rod and scurried up into it via an exposed opening at the bottom. We marveled at the fact that she could crawl up into that tight space and wondered how she would get out, given the narrow tube structure.

Lou unhooked the rod, took it onto the deck, and waved it around to compel the bee to exit. He left the rod lying on the table on the deck for a couple of days, after which he returned it to the blinds.

Meanwhile, while moving the printer, which had rested immediately beneath the turning rod, I noticed a gentle sprinkling of yellow granules on top of the printer. I didn’t directly make the connection, but suddenly recognized that it was pollen that had likely shaken loose when the bee squeezed up into the rod. I marveled at it and gently brushed the powder off the surface and moved the stand to its new home.

A Fairy had visited us, and she sprinkled her dust for luck!

A few days later, with the screen door closed, Lou noticed a bee buzzing against the screen in a vain attempt to gain access to the outdoors. He slid the door open and tenderly shooed her out. We wondered how she had gotten inside. A brief investigation revealed another sprinkling of pollen on the blanket that now resided beneath the vertical blind rod. She had taken up residence for at least a week in that cramped space! Perhaps when the rod lay on the table outside, she had begun laying eggs, and now we had thwarted her efforts to procreate. I couldn’t envision her being able to turn around in that tube, lay eggs, and supply them with food. Nonetheless, she belonged outside. We thought no more about it.

Writing on the deck a week or so later, enjoying the fresh morning air, and the tender days of late May, we noticed a bee hovering around, flying to and fro. Lou watched more closely and saw her land on the edge of the sliding door frame, and then crawl up into a crack at the top and disappear inside. We wondered aloud whether there was a bee nest in there somehow. For a couple of hours, as we continued our work, we observed a single bee emerging and then returning 10 to 20 minutes later, clambering into the opening.

We examined the door frame, observed that there was likely not a lot of room inside, and remarked that if it were a hive of some type, we would see many more bees milling about. I searched online to see if “bees live alone” and discovered that most species of bee are solitary bees. What a fun discovery! You’re never too old to learn something new, kids!!

I determined that it was the same bee who had trapped herself inside of the turning rod.

We named her Fiona.

She liked us.

I purposely watched for her during my time on the deck over the next couple of weeks. I cheered her on when she seemed too drunk on nectar to land on the door efficiently, bumping noggin first into the glass, and then zooming out for another attempt, only to find herself bonking clumsily again. Sometimes if she made more than two or three unsuccessful attempts, she would disappear for several minutes before returning for an accurate landing. I found her so endearing and fell in love with her.

Fun fact: my name means “Bee,” so perhaps that explains my connection to Fiona. I also tend to root for the underdog, so in this case, one tiny bee against rampant habitat destruction, poisoning, through the use of chemical pesticides, and food scarcity, due to the use of lawn herbicides, certainly generates a true ‘Davey and Goliath’ story.

“Go, Fiona!!”

My ongoing research about the plight of solitary bees solidified my commitment to support efforts to their survival. Like honey bees, solitary bees are important to plant pollination. These tender, wee insects are so critical to humanity, and they aren’t aggressive by nature. If you have the ability, consider installing solitary bee habitats in your yard. Please ensure you choose the proper structure for the bees in your area, as there are approximately 3500 bee species in the US. I hope you will consider adding this unobtrusive garden element to your yard!

In the UK, it is Solitary Bee week beginning on June 29. No such event seems to exist in the US—but if you locate one, let me know. Celebrate Solitary Bee Week with our neighbors across the pond in style, by wearing your favorite striped shirt.

About two weeks ago, the apartment decks on all the buildings were all refinished. It didn’t occur that the workers would power wash the siding and door frames as well as the deck surface. I have spent many days outside writing since the deck project was completed, and noticed that Fee the Bee was no longer busy moving back and forth from her nest. I have kept a keen eye for her presence every day since, but it seems she is gone. I surprised myself by how much her absence moved me.

Fiona left tiny little insect footprints on my heart, and in the process, helped me grow in my understanding of my responsibility and partnership with the wild world.

Invite a bee into your heart.