Pollinator

It rained literally all day, though for much of the time it was the kind of irritating mizzle that you can decide to ignore if you're so minded. R and I were so minded: now that the invertebrate season is on us I'm almost constantly raging to be out and about, and after being confined to barracks of late by his seemingly intractable back problem, R simply wanted to be somewhere other than at home. 

So I drove to Stratford, where we had some lunch, and then R tottered off to do a little light shopping while I yomped along the river in search of invertebrates. I didn't find much - there were quite a few non-biting midges around (and I noted later, at least one of the biting kind as well), but everything else was staying under cover. My best discovery was that the two large reed beds near Lucy's Mill that were cleared last winter are already re-emerging, which will benefit the Odonata when they deign to appear.

By the time we got home it was a little brighter, and barely raining at all, and a quick squelch around the garden turned up three bees and a dance fly, saving me from having to post an emergency rain-soaked flower. Of the bees, two were Common Carders - unsurprisingly, because they're the most diligent species I know, working in all but the vilest weather. I didn't quite nail the focus here, but given the conditions and the speed of these girls, I'm not displeased with this image. I'm always intrigued to see a red pollen ball on a bee's leg, when usually they're a grubby yellow colour; received wisdom has it that red pollen comes from the red horse chestnut (Aesculus x carnea), which we do have in the garden, but it's barely in leaf yet, let alone flower, and I think the current source must be the white hawthorn that's currently blooming in all the local hedgerows.