Velvet Bumble Bee

A velvet-bodied bumblebee, round and plump like a ball of thistledown with purpose, clings tenderly to the soft embrace of a lavender blossom. Its fuzzy coat is a patchwork of midnight black and sunflower gold, each strand glinting with whispers of pollen—a dusting of nature’s treasure gathered in earnest work.

The bee’s head is bowed into the bloom, as if in prayer or reverence, antennae curved gently forward like tiny reaching arms. Its large, domed eye catches the light like obsidian glass, reflecting a shimmer of the world it hovers through. Legs, fine and bristled, cradle the flower with surprising delicacy, sturdy but careful, like a craftsman holding fragile lace.

The lavender petals themselves are a symphony of purples—from dusky plum to ethereal lilac—layered like satin folds in a dancer’s skirt. Their texture, though delicate, seems to ripple with energy under the bee’s touch, like the surface of still water when stirred by the breeze.

The whole scene is bathed in a dreamy, soft glow—as if caught in the breath between day and night—framed by the hush of blurred purples and greens beyond, hinting at a field stretching endlessly into summer’s hush.

This is a moment of stillness within movement, a tiny heartbeat of harmony between creature and bloom.

A mass of pale fluffy white and pale pink – thistledown, with the ghost of a couple of the thistle seed heads at the bottom of the frame. Seemingly suspended in the dreamy white mist (and yet actually standing on the soft downy seeds) is a long, slim orange beetle with long antennae and dark eyes. It’s slightly turned to us, as if caught in mid wander.

“What you want ?” it seems to say.

This is the Common Red Soldier Beetle – also know as the Bonking Beetle. Because this time of year they are somewhat social, shall we say. This one seemed to be minus a date at that particular moment though.
I tracked it for ages on a thistle that was blowing madly in the wind. I lost it in the viewfinder countless times. It was beetling about very determinedly. But then the wind dropped and it just so happened to be looking right at me for a split second – or seemed to be anyway.