Bumblebees

If, like me, you remember being told that thing where bumblebees should not be able to fly from the standpoint of aerodynamics, well, I have bad news: it's not true. Apparently, the idea that bumblebees defy the principles of aerodynamics and shouldn't be able to fly originated from a misunderstanding of early aerodynamic calculations in the 1930s.

That said, I made some interesting observations concerning bumblebees.

At present, my big leaf linden tree is displaying in full bloom. The entire tree has been swarmed by a mix of honeybees, bumblebees, flies, and butterflies. There is no agreeable way to put this: the bumblebees really are bumblers. They are sorta chunky to begin with. And when the wind knocks the branches around a little, I noticed a few bumblebees plummeting from the flower clusters, seemingly unable to hang on. After freefalling for a foot or so, the bees would crank up their wings and fly up into the flowers for another run.

To be fair, it could be their 'style' is to freefall before launching at the next flower. I don’t know, but I rather enjoyed watching them.  Normally, honeybees get all the attention.

Finally, bumblebees do one thing for me that a honeybee cannot do: they pollinate huckleberries. Due to the structure and orientation of huckleberry flowers, honeybees are unable to access lunch there and ignore them. Bumblebees grasp the huckleberry blossoms and 'buzz pollinate' them, rattling free what they want.

Thank you, bumblebees.

A Bumblebee at Work in my Tree

—Mitchell Hegman

A Crinoid Fossil

Many of the mountains surrounding Helena, Montana, are the upturned remnants of Madison Limestone, a geological treasure formed approximately 330 million years ago during the Mississippian Period. Composed mainly of limestone, this rock formation originated in a shallow sea that covered the region. During the Mississippian Period, Montana was located near the equator and experienced warm, tropical conditions. The limestone layers hold a fascinating array of crinoid fossils, providing insights into ancient marine life.

These creatures are considerably older than the dinosaurs.  Consider, Tyrannosaurus rex, one of the most iconic and fearsome dinosaurs, roamed what is now Montana during the Late Cretaceous Period, approximately 68 to 66 million years ago.

Crinoids, also known as sea lilies or feather stars, were diverse marine organisms resembling flowers on stalks. Flourishing during the Paleozoic Era, they left behind a rich fossil record. The Madison Limestone's fine-grained composition preserved these delicate crinoid fossils exceptionally well.

Yesterday, while kicking around on my property, I picked up a chunk of limestone and found a lovely crinoid fossil embedded within it.

Crinoid Fossil

Close Up

—Mitchell Hegman

The Lifted Lemonade

A strange thing happened at the grocery. First, we got behind a super slow middle-aged man at the checkout stand. He was slow enough at bagging his own goods (which was required) that we stepped back to allow him to finish, while another customer with a handful of items passed through us as we waited. Our goods ended up piling almost directly against his after being scanned. After the guy finally finished (with another customer now pressing against us), Desiree and I quickly swept in to bag our groceries.

When I picked up a six-pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade, I immediately noticed only five bottles in the box. I felt certain it held six bottles when I pulled it off the shelf. Desiree handled the six-pack at the checkout conveyor, and the store employee who scanned it didn't notice a missing bottle.

The clerk allowed me to fetch a full six-pack. As we finally pushed off with our cart to exit the store, I said to Desiree, “I'm certain that six-pack was full when we picked it up.”

“I thought so, too,” Desiree remarked.

“I think the guy ahead of us lifted one of the bottles.”

“You think?”

“I do.” I shrugged my shoulders. “People are weird.”

—Mitchell Hegman

In the Bag

I am a pretty big fan of the reality program Naked and Afraid. While a majority of the “reality” programs are mostly contrived situations and largely fake drama, I think Naked and Afraid is mostly legit. Participants on that series endure legitimate hardships and sometimes end up with severe injuries and sickness.

Desiree and I always tease each other about being participants on the show. Neither of us thinks we would make it more than a day or two of the allotted 21 days – especially in some insect-infested jungle.

One of the features in the show is that participants are able to bring along one personal survival item. Contestants often choose a fire starter or a big knife. Some are a bit more inventive and choose to take on a pot for boiling water, a mosquito net, or perhaps some kind of rope or line.  These items are included in a bag made from natural materials each person is given at the outset.

While watching an episode the other day, I asked Desiree, “What item would you take along?” Even before she could answer, I said, “I am going to take a bottle of vinegar. I need that.”

“I will take candy bars,” Desiree proclaimed.

“Good thinking. I’m pretty sure we can make it for at least a day as a team.”

—Mitchell Hegman

Morning Report for July 10, 2023

Only a few things to report. First, a doe mule deer has found and chomped on several plants that deer are not supposed to eat. No real surprise there. For the last couple of evenings, we have experienced sun-shower rains. Pretty, but strange. Inside the house, I spend a lot of time chasing moths around, and they are not particularly helpful when you are painting a ceiling. Finally, yes, I did spill coffee all over the counter, down the front of the cabinets, and across a swath of the floor.

—Mitchell Hegman

Love Without Weight

It suddenly matters

that the single hoofprint of a deer is vaguely heart-shaped.

The impression remains on the open earth,

untouched by wind.

Having collected last night’s rainwater,

the print reflects in an upturned way

and captures the sun loving itself

in a manner that most of us do not love ourselves.

—Mitchell Hegman

Ceiling Progress Report

I've been piddling around a bit with work on the fancy ceiling we are putting together for our master bedroom. Progress is slow on purpose. I can't really get after things until this fall when we plan to move everything out of that bedroom and begin sleeping in what is now a spare bedroom next door.

Posted today is a photograph of the center portion of the ceiling. I've repainted that section and installed a new LED light. 

And just because I'm calling the shots, I'm throwing in (at no extra cost) a picture of my lemon tree below the ceiling. As always, I added a can of Cold Smoke beer for a sense of scale.

You're so welcome!

Ceiling Progress

Lemon Tree and Ceiling

—Mitchell Hegman