April Noon

First I saw only bluebells, surviving the thrust of nettles,
lifting their trusting faces to the heat of the midday sun.
Then, with one short squawk, a jackdaw announced his arrival,
high in the tree. He had nothing to do, no more to say;
preened himself in the hot midday.
Now, the gentle hum of a hoverfly caught my ear,
and then my eye. He was in no haste, returned again
and again to the same new buds, soft as the spring sun.
I returned to my seat, breathed deep the still air,
gazed up at the clear blue, slowly releasing a sigh,
when
WHAM! BUZZ! - louder and louder,
a swarm of bees warmed the sky,
jostling and racing, chasing around an invisible maze,
while all I could do was gape and gaze
then hurry indoors,
just in case.

The bees that swarmed today come back every year - but it's the suddenness of their arrival that always hits me. I always hear them before I see them. Must start noting the date, and check if it's always the same time of year. It's always the same corner of our house where they gather.

poem © Celia Warren 2011