Arrivals

New neighbours moved in a few weeks back. No one said anything but a couple of families set up camp in our front yard. I say ‘our yard’ but I’m not convinced it is.  A piece of paper suggests we technically own the property, but does anyone really ‘own’ parts of Earth? Who was here before me, us – settlers, early Māori, more than humans? The recent arrivals seem to have a keener sense of ownership and purpose than me. One family is numerous, busy and bossy. They zig zag around me, in an irritated fashion, on their way in and out of the property. The other lot are more discreet, and quieter, occupying the far end of the courtyard. 

Bumblebees! They’ve set up shop in the base of an older hebe bush, crisscrossed with decomposing flax fronds. Others have settled in behind a crack between two large stones in the rock wall. Some are accurate missiles firing into and out of the nests with precision, reminiscent of sci-fi aircraft emerging from a Thunderbirds cave or Star Wars planets.  Others buzz heavily (I can hear them before seeing them) like loaded cargo planes coming in to land. I’d like to be able to follow them down into their worlds. Our son suggests I get a worm-like lens to clip to my camera and feed it down into their nests. I’m not keen, I must admit.  It might chase them away or harm the nest in some way. I’m happy to know they are doing their thing, which they’ve done for millions of years.