Artists create things. That's the way we are.
This particular artist loves bumblebees, despite having been stung and partly paralysed by one in my youth.
However, they are almost essential for the pollination of crops both in wild nature and inside greenhouses. An angry one, caught in a window perhaps, can be nasty, but to have a peaceful one crawling over one's hand is a pleasure.
So I look after them, large or small, welcome them, and cherish them.
When Margreet looked through some internet search engines, we learned that in spring, pregnant bumblebees like a reasonably large nest box to bring up their brood of worker bees. Yet, when we were observing them pollinating fruit in Dutch greenhouses, the offered quarters there were small. But why?
Perhaps these small houses were only for when the bees wanted to hibernate in winter. We saw no breeding boxes where the pregnant queens, having left their winter quarters in springtime, are being offered large enough breeding hideaways to form a nest in which to bring up young.
So, having tried to entice them unsuccessfully in the past with papier-maché homes, I have now made hibernation places from a tin, a flower pot saucer, screwed to an outside wall, and an almost shoe box size wooden breeding home. These are waterproof, camouflaged, and made comfortable inside with cotton wool.
Making the wooden bee house posed some problems as the wood, acquired from a rubbish dump, had once been moulded skirting board in a house.
But my design, using only available materials of sawn wood, nails glue, hinge and screws and a filling mixture of sawdust, sand and glue, took several days to construct and paint. With an entrance hole having a small landing platform outside it, I'm hoping for the best.
I like making homes for birds and insects. Sometimes they are even used, and hopefully appreciated. A brood of great tits flew the nest box successfully this year.
