There are many things I'd like to introduce to this small town for London, but perhaps the most whimsical are the bumble bees.
Here, bees are bees, streamlined, mean, unexciting gatherers who buzz around the gardens harvesting nectar and stinking poor unsuspecting people who get in their way.
They are delightful creatures, but after living in London, I find they cannot compare with the bees that drone around your typical English garden.
European bees are like big balls of black and yellow velvet the size of a thimble hanging on gossamer wings. When the garden is ablaze with colour, they gorge themselves on the pollen to the extent that they become too heavy for their own wings. As you sit watching, they waver across the garden with the appearance of heady drunkenness.
They were such a delightful sight though one that is impossible to photograph as their movements were so erratic and unsteady they are difficult to focus on. Only when they flew indoors and landed in my lamp shade were they able to be photographed...
...or when they'd lost themselves in the luxury of a virginal flower.