Bunnet brings bewildered bumble bee back from brink

The warm weather doesn’t just make people act differently, it also affects the bee population, as Rab finds out while uncharacteristically wearing a blue sun hat...

Here is the tale of the blue hat and the bumble bee. It might surprise readers to know that not only am I the Guardian of Small Garden Birds, I am also the Saviour of Bumble Bees.

Yes, it’s that time of year. The bees are buzzing. On a morning of variable weather, I was in the garden, engaged in a variety of tasks, the main one being staring into space.

Regularly, I got into dwams in the garden, usually when something prompts a memory, such as the blue handrail reminding me of a previous house in the wilds. Then I lean my chin on the rake or brush and let my mind go where it will go, which tends to be… elsewhere.

On this day the weather was variable and, when it started spitting rain, I decided to fetch some millinery for my bonce (my body was already covered by my suburban crofter’s overalls).

I don’t really do hats. Or, rather, hats don’t really do me. I never look quite right in them and they always make my hair look peculiar when I take them off, sometimes flattening entire areas in inappropriate directions, sometimes making bits stick up where they ought to be sticking doon.

Anyway, in the back garden nobody can see me, beyond the odd helicopter or low-flying plane, so I was able to select a blue sun hat (from a massive collection in a special drawer) that had never before been worn.

Returning outdoors, I nearly stood on a bee that was stoatin’ aboot in a dazed state. I think they get like this when the temperature drops, and you can sometimes save them by putting them somewhere that gets the sun.

Alas, there was no sun at this point, just dribbling rain. So I scooped him up on a big leaf, lifted him to a higher spot, and gave him my blue hat to sit in for protection from the elements.

Checking on him periodically, he was at first quite comatose but then the sun came out again, so I shifted the hat so could get the full blast and, slowly, he started to stick oot a leg or three.

Then he turned his back and started to sway his butt as the sun warmed his wings before – yay! (and I did actually shout that) – he took off with a triumphant buzz, first heading away then coming back for a grateful fly past.

Birds sometimes do this too, if you feed them in cold weather, when they’re struggling. After filling up, they fly straight towards you, almost as if they want to give you a hug, before veering off at the last second.

I look forward to seeing more bees in the garden, particularly when the weather is better.

Many years ago, I was sent into the depths of rural Aberdeenshire to report on an election hustings.

The question of the environment came up, and a local farmer said he thought everything was fine because “the bees is still gawn aboot”. It’s a good way to look at it.

We keep reading about the bees’ decline. But there are plenty round here, including at least one that got better use of a blue hat than I ever did.

Picture: Getty Images. The bees are back, but the cold weather is slowing them down.