The thing that always strikes me about photos like this is that everything modern aside, there is love at the heart of it. This woman was buried with her babies. They put flowers in their grave. We don’t know who buried them, but they loved her and her children. They put the bodies in the grave holding hands because they knew she would have wanted to hold her babies hands. They’re placed like they’re sleeping.

Everything was different back then, but somehow the love is the same. We still bury mothers with their babies. We still put flowers in and on graves. We still want our loved ones to be sent off with affection. We want them to be known and remembered. We know almost nothing about this woman, but we know that she was loved. We know of her 5000 years later because she was loved.
https://res.cloudinary.com/goldenballs/image/upload/v1723477054/HI/5000.png

Beehive ginger, also known as shampoo ginger, is a plant native to Southeast Asia. It is a type of ginger plant that is known for its clusters of small, yellow flowers that resemble beehives. The plant is often used for medicinal purposes and is believed to have anti-inflammatory and analgesic properties. It is also used in traditional medicine to treat a variety of ailments, including headache, nausea, and digestive issues. In addition to its medicinal uses, beehive ginger is also used in the production of perfumes and fragrances. The plant is known for its strong, spicy scent, which is often used in natural shampoo and other personal care products.

Spring has brought some beautiful blooms of flowers and trees to Virginia. The bees have been busy with their pollination activities, spreading grains of yellow pollen into the air. The rains and increasing temperatures are promoting more growth this April, and soon there will be lush gardens filled with more of the returning perennial plants and new annuals.

#Blooming #Flowers #Tulip #AppleBlossom #Bees #Spring2024 #Spring #Gardening #Botany #PlantBiology #Biology

A single bee can produce 1 tablespoon of honey in its lifetime.

683 bees fly roughly 32,550 miles to gather 5.93 lbs of nectar from about 1,185,000 flowers in order to make one 9.5 oz. jar of honey.

A woman called the florist shop to complain.

She had just sent flowers to her daughter who had relocated her business because it was booming and needed to expand.

"I ordered these flowers for her," the woman said, "and what you delivered had on the card 'Our Deepest Sympathy.' What do you have to say?"

There was complete silence.

"Well???" she asked again.

"Sorry," the florist replied, "I was just thinking of the flowers we sent to the funeral home with the tag 'Best of Luck In Your New Location.'"

When bees get tired of flying and carrying pollen, they can fall asleep in flowers this way.

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In the decades and in the history books to come, 1968 will be remembered as the year the lights flickered out -- as a year of frustrations, regressions and shattered myths. These reversions to the past -- Prague, the Vatican, Chicago -- are the manifestations of political and economic forces seeking desperately to preserve situations of which they have long since lost control.

But the twilight descending upon the United States will have the gravest consequences of all, for it is America that sets the pace of the world, and often dictates its choices.

As the Sixties draw to a close, the peoples of the earth, left to themselves without gods and without leaders, are awaiting new decisions. The Man of November 5 cannot escape the confrontations before him. By refusing these choices, he will leave the problems unsolved.

Two Americans, John and Robert Kennedy, had the courage to meet these problems head on and break down the doors to the future. They were stopped by the frightened accomplices of the traditions on which they infringed.

When John Fitzgerald Kennedy's head exploded, it was for some the signal for toasts. One November morning the cannon boomed, the Panama Canal was closed, flags everywhere flew at half-mast, and it is said that even Andrei Gromyko wept. Adlai Stevenson declared that he would bear the sorrow of his death till the day of his own, and the Special Forces added a black band to their green berets.

Almost five years passed, and another bullet shattered the brain and stopped the heart of another Kennedy who had taken up the fight.

There was another funeral. Once again the Green Berets formed the Honor Guard; once again the Stars and Stripes flew at half-mast. One evening in June, Robert Kennedy joined his brother beneath the hill at Arlington, and those passing by can bring them flowers.

-James Hepburn (Pseudonym),
"Farewell America" (1968)