Tearsquirting Diary Of Alcoholic, Chapter 2...
> Think twice on where honey comes from !
Think twice on where honey comes from !
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Bee'zelballs (of the grape variety).
OK...well...honey is made from regurgitated (yuk!) nectar AND pollen...nectar from flowers that is, not fruit. I have never heard of apple, cherry ,plum etc honey or wine honey. But I have taken the required biology lesson and stand somewhat corrected. And, of course, I should have realised all things Canadian are different!
However, this is a naughty bee...is meant to be pollinating flowers, not getting sloshed!
I need to defend this alcoholic bee here;
1. Biogolically speaking it is bee, but Canadian one, therefore there is room for lotsa confusion. After Michael visited me he understood profound difference between creatures of common world and Canadian ones which moved him to write such poetic novel... How he can have pollens while harvesting on grapes, common, Ann, you need to be less picky on these fella !
2. Pollens is side effect of honey collection, not the primary purpose. Bees, including Canadian ones, drink flowers nectar which then they digest and convert into honey. Ann, some refreshment of biology lessons would be required, otherwise you will ruin his reputation of heavy drinker forever...
3. He's smartest bee ever, instead of making himself dirty and crouching through flower labyrints , he rather gets directly to the point, while educating the rest of family with art of wine making !
Lovely image & capture..... However I have two biological observations to make.
1) Are you sure this is a bee and not some kind of hoverfly imitation? I see no pollen bags on hind legs.
2) If a bee...he can not collect pollen from the fruit of the vine, can he! And anyway grape juice would not get into any pollen on him....and...he just deposits pollen back at the hive....doesn't process it to honey himself, does he?
So...I think no danger of alcoholic honey.....unless bee collects from the whisky plant!
Wine-flavored honey. Excellent!
Oh, boy... All I can say, as a little proletary, that world of Boozbees transferred forever in to galaxy of Beezelborscht creatures after your magnificient essay !
Hello Eldar. Actually, I was already here, ready to review and comment on this photo even before you had directed me here. You see, this little bee is indeed a close cousin to the bee I had photographed in the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens over 2 years ago. Now although this bee is a close cousin, and has the same theatrical credentials as the Botanic Bee, the bee here has one additional, quite extraordinary charachteristic... he's an extreme wino! He is addicted, insanely to the fruit and spirits of the vine. Can you see how he nestles right in the heavenly bosom between the large lush fruity globes, sucking with frenetic frenzy the succulent sweet juices, and then miraculously he implants, in return, his gushing load of sweet, spewing honey. Reacting to this scene of compelling and energetic drama, the surrounding environment reacts quite amazingly with the explosion of a yellow, orange and lime lighted bokeh.... its now fiesta time at the vinyard...time for an all out celebration of nature, complete with dance, food, drink.... fireworks. The grapes are ripe and soon they will not only be suckled by the bee and honey coated, but picked, churned and fermented, in rich wooden wine casks and aged finely (artistically and scientifically) into the spritual essence we all crave... not just the bee, but all us declared winos as well. One more litle note about this special wine-craving bee. He is a very protective and somewhat violent little fellow. Do not underestimate his enormous physical and charismatic prowess. See how his eyes are positioned in the back of his head... this has a very specific purpose. As he is in the middle of his grape feeding frenzy, he watches the outer territory very carfully and keenly.... anything, any person, any other animal or preditor that attempts to interrupt his pleasure, will be immediately detected by his radar-like eyes and he will defend with his sharply pointed stinger, to his last dying breath, with all his energy and passion, his treasure of luscious grape globes. Here is a bee who has made this very bosom of life his home. The bee's name you may ask? Beezelbub? No! Beezelborscht! All my best, Michael.