Flowers, flowers, flowers.

What would we do without flowers?

“What is that?”

“What?” I say, and Martin points to a fast-moving cloud above the shower.

Turns out it’s a swarm of bees. The buzzing grows ominously loud as we go to look closer. The air is filled with them.

The swarm hangs off a branch of a tree. There are hundreds of bodies creating this strange humming beard. The queen is in the centre.

This is how our day starts, trying to convince the swarm to take up residence with us.

First Martin transfers them to a box. He cuts the branch, and the hanging ball of bees sways with the movement. They are gentle, not stinging, even when one finds itself tangled in my hair and another down my bra.

I’m nervous standing amongst them as they move into the box. I breathe and try to reduce my heart rate so they don’t feel my adrenaline and freak out.

When I was a kid, I saw the tiniest bit of a movie where a woman got stuck in a room filled with bees and was stung to death

We were staying in a hotel somewhere. I’d gone up to the room to grab something, and the tv was on. A blonde woman not wearing beekeeping gear goes into a room (?) and the door somehow locks behind her (??) and I feel like the bees were in a bag (???) and the bag gets open somehow (????) and then suddenly there are bees everywhere and she’s collapsing on the ground (?????) and she goes still and she’s DEAD?!

When I write this out, it sounds ridiculous, but at the time it left a pretty solid impression of horror on my fragile little mind.

Standing amongst a swarm as it buzzes around me, I have to try to repress that memory of that movie. I remember all the fascinating facts Martin has told me about how they organise themselves, the convoluted mystery of bee society and how they work to pollinate our flowers and make our honey.

Thinking of all this, it feels a bit magical (rather than scary) to be at the humming heart of a swarm moving as one entity.

We’re planting plenty of flowers for our friends, the pollinators.

Cosmos and marigolds line the paths to the house. We have seeds for nasturtium, catnip, hyssop, calendula, daisies, sunflowers. And then there’s the fruit trees, the coconut flowers and banana trees filled with nectar.

There are some wonderful local flowers I’d like to see more of in our garden. Tiare, which smells a bit like a gardenia, has seven white petals and is traditionally used for the garland you’d wear when getting married.

Frangipane in white, yellow, pink and orange lend pops of colour to front gardens everywhere.

We have multiple ylang ylang trees in the garden, the flowers like yellow ribbons perfuming the air.

The hibiscus love it here too. Easily found are red and beige; less easily found are the orange and hybrid varieties.

When we first arrived we visited a local called Capo who lives in the valley, next to a river, and breeds hibiscuses that are prized all over the islands. He creates wonderful colour varieties with flowers bigger than my outstretched hand.

I started painting some of his hibiscus, and the plan is to make a series of them. They’re so joyful and colourful and… I don’t know, sensual? What can I say, they’re a sexy flower.

To celebrate the flowers of French Polynesia, I’ve made a colouring in page for my paid subscribers featuring some of the key players (hibiscus, tiare, vanilla, fangipane). Thank you to those who are supporting my writing in its early stage! Image and instructions on how to use it below. Please send me your finished pieces as I’d love to see them!

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