Ride a White Swan

Ten years ago I sat on an East-bound Boeing watching the bright stars shining high above the Atlantic before the speeding sun brought an early dawn. Our contrails pointed back towards Chicago. I was heading home after visiting family in the Windy City; family who mean so much to me as the years pass by.

I love flying, but that short night I was troubled.

Just prior to leaving for the USA I had almost concluded a deal to purchase a motorbike, a lovely Pearlescent White Harley Davidson Centenary Softail, but there I was sitting in a 400 tonne cigar tube questioning whether I was doing the right thing….it was a lot of money!

The hostess invited me to close the window blind, I always get amused by that…do they think that someone is looking in from the outside at 30,000 feet altitude at night? I politely declined and explained that I was Astro-navigating, I was left alone, probably classed as a nut case…and back to my pondering.

In due course the wheels touched down at London Heathrow and we were launched into the machine that all long-haul travellers have to endure; emigration, customs, bureaucracy and of course queuing and standing in line…then it’s off to baggage reclaim.

At London Paddington station we gratefully sank into our First Class seats on the Westbound high-speed train back to Cornwall and relaxed. Mrs Dookes drifted off to sleep as I tackled a bacon sandwich and a cup of black coffee whilst admiring the pleasant English countryside speeding by at 125mph.

Mrs D’s phone buzzed with a text message; I picked it up and glanced at the words on the screen. I gently nudged my wife awake, “Message, not good.”

The text message was to tell us that one of Mrs D’s dearest and oldest friends had died.

Trudie was just 35 when she was taken by cervical cancer.

We knew that she was seriously ill before we flew out to the USA some weeks previously and had spent a beautiful day in her company; but it still came as a shock. No, it was shit….

Trudie; beautiful, delicate, lovely, wonderful, happy, loving Trudie….gone.

I wanted to scream, cry, sob and I host of other things…instead I stared out of the window and saw Trudie’s face in the clouds above the ripening wheat fields speeding past our carriage.

The rest of the journey passed in a blur; then the next two days merged into a mess of jet-lag and grief.

A few days later I was back in my office. The phone rang, it was 09:15.

Mrs Dookes was calling. She cut straight to the chase, “Dad had just called me, my cousin Andy has been found dead!”

It turned out that Andy had suffered a major heart attack in the middle of the night and had been found by his father, collapsed in the bathroom at his home.

Andy had not long turned 40.

I liked Andy, he was a bit of an odd-ball, but we shared many common interests like old machinery and trains; he was a nice bloke.

I put the phone down and stared out of the window. Life is too bloody short and at times bloody unfair.

I picked up the telephone again and dialled the motorcycle dealership.

“About that bike…I’ll pick it up on Friday!”

Ten years later I’m still riding that beautiful white Harley Davidson, that you folks know as “Harls.”

I’m just sorry that Andy never got to hear the rasp of her engine through those shot-gun pipes; and I’m desperately sad that Trudie never got to ride pillion behind me, I’m sure that Mrs Dookes wouldn’t have minded…!

…but you know sometimes I see a shadow in the workshop when I’m working on that bike and start the engine….and on other occasions when I’m riding I could swear that I get a hug, like someone is sitting behind me and has their arms around my waist.

Ten years on, I’ve ridden just about everywhere I’ve ever wanted to on that wonderful bike. I’ve also got a powerful bunch of very special memories forged on that lovely machine, but most of all I still feel that connection with two very special people taken too soon and for them I ride in their memory.

Andy. Trudie. I miss you both and love you still.

Catch the two of you one day.

“Ride it on out like a bird in the sky way
Ride it on out like you were a bird.
Ride a White Swan like the people of the Beltane.”

Dookes

Bees Above My Head.

A long time ago I concluded that the world was a wonderful place and that mankind was truly crazy.

Recent events have served to further cement my viewpoint. A cowardly bombing in Manchester, indiscriminate stabbings in London, hammer attacks in Paris, countless strange decisions by the President of the United States of America and political turmoil in the UK….

It all seems to suggest that by and large our planet would be a whole lot better off without it’s most successfully evolved mammals – us!

Then there are the Bees.

Now, I don’t really need to explain what a Bee is do I? Flying insects known the world over for their role in the pollination of many plant species, making them incredibly important ecologically and commercially.

It is estimated that Bees are worth over £400 million per year to the UK and €14.2 billion to the combined EU economy through the pollination of crops such as apples, tomatoes, peas, beans and soft fruit.

Bees range in size from less than two millimetres to over 39 millimetres long. There are some solitary species of Bee, but most live in ordered social colonies…a bit like humans really!

Bees have been around for millions of years, but in many parts of the world they are in trouble and their numbers are declining.

In some cases this is due to changes in agricultural techniques, which leads in turn to fewer wild flowers. Look at a field of wheat theses days and I bet that you won’t see many wild flowers growing amongst the cereal plants. It’s like a green desert. In the UK it is estimated that we have also lost around 97% of wildflower grassland since 1930, so as Bees rely entirely on flowers for their food, it’s not good news if you are a Bee!

In the last 77 years two native species of Bumble Bee have become extinct here in the UK, it is believed that this is due entirely to loss of habitat. The Honey Bees are having it tough as well; their numbers are struggling against disease and parasites.

At Dookes H.Q. I try to work alongside nature in our garden. I don’t use pesticides or chemical fertilisers and in the sixteen years that we have lived here I have planted literally hundreds of trees and shrubs. In addition, because I am an inherently lazy gardener, things are left a little on the wild side, which has the benefit of providing habitat to a whole host of different wildlife… well that’s my excuse anyway!

Anyway, back to the Bees!

For me, one of life’s simple pleasures is to sit out in the garden on a sunny day and quietly watch the wild world pass by. Top performer is always the humble little Bumble Bee as she busily buzzes from flower to flower-collecting pollen and nectar, humming to herself as she goes by.

One night, a few weeks ago, I was just starting to drift off to sleep when I was sure I could hear a faint humming noise. To start with I thought that Mrs Dookes had left the washing machine switched on downstairs in the kitchen, but no it didn’t sound like that.

Was this some new variation in my ever-present tinnitus? It didn’t seem to be; in fact it seemed to be coming from above me. Oh well, time for sleep!

A few nights later I could hear it again, but maybe a bit louder so time to investigate. Moving around the bedroom it seemed to be coming from near a small hatch to the loft space; I rattled the wooden hatch and was rewarded by an increase in the humming, actually it became a slightly agitated buzz. Hmm!

My initial thought was that Wasps had invaded us, so next morning I set out to investigate and climbed into the loft space via a different hatchway. The loft space in a 300-year-old house is not the nicest of places to craw around, but after a few minutes of attic contortions I arrived above our bedroom and cautiously peeled back the rockwool insulation layers that lie between the ceiling joists.

A Tree Bumble Bee nest, just like the one in our loft!
Photo RM Kelly

The familiar buzzing noise was revealed as about eight bumble bees emerged and started to angrily fly around my hand-held floodlight. There fixed firmly to the top of the hatch was a small cluster of around ten small waxy pots about 25mm tall and 10mm across; this was good news, no annoying Wasps, but busy active Bumble Bees! I quickly replaced the insulation, turned off the floodlight and sat still in the dark for a few minutes. Once the angry buzzing subsided I made my way back out of the loft space and informed Mrs Dookes about our new tenants.[

Further investigation of our new visitors has been quite interesting. It looks like we have a colony of Tree Bumble Bees, Bombus hypnorum, under our roof. This is a relatively new species to the UK, being normally native to Continental Europe, it was first noticed on our shores in 2001 and has been spreading around ever since. Unusually for a newly arrived species, it isn’t harmful to our native flora and best of all is a fantastically hard-working pollinator – which sounds like good news to me!

One of “Our Bees” pollinating chives.

It’s a few weeks now since my initial look at the nest and I estimate that the colony is probably peaking now at around 250-300 Bees, they’ve built quite a few little nest pots now and are happily raising their young. Sadly in a few short months they will start to die out and a new Virgin Queen will emerge, fly the nest, mate and hibernate until she starts her own new colony next Spring.

Chives are very popular!

In the evenings the buzzing of “our bees” is now quite pronounced up in the loft space above our heads; it’s quite restful really. They have distinct conversation patterns and it really is fascinating to listen to them chattering to each other. Fortunately, they are quite considerate and seem to go to sleep at the same time as us too, so no late night ‘Bee Parties’ either!

Outside in the garden we have definitely noticed an increase in the number of bees around our plants and flowers, the black currants are looking particularly good for the extra pollination and I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a good crop.

Here’s to you the humble and delightful little Bumble Bee, thank you for gently invading our life and taking my mind off the troubles of our mad world!

“Sail on, sail on my little honey bee, sail on.”

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Batman is Dead!

Sad news came through yesterday, Adam West the actor famous for playing Batman in the 1960’s ABC T.V. series has passed away at the age of 88.

Yes, I know that the character has been portrayed by Michael Keaton, Val Kilmer, George Clooney and others, but you can keep them.

To me Adam West was and always will be Batman, my Batman.

As a youngster I would eagerly await each episode as the “Caped Crusader” battled against recurring villains such as “The Joker,” “ The Riddler,” and “The Penguin.”

Batman usually got captured by his enemies, but always escaped just in the nick of time to save the day and see that justice prevailed!

In the imagination of small boys our bicycles were the sleek, cool, Batmobile and a piece of old sheet was our cape….we were Batman too!

So farewell Adam West, Batman forever, thanks for the good times and memories.

I’ll catch you again one day and as the programme always used to end:

“Same Bat-Time, Same Bat-Channel.”

Dookes