Sorting out the room that could be a studio. Found an old sketchbook. I remember sitting in the garden drawing these sheets.
When I was a teenager, a swarm of bees appeared at the end of the garden. The neighbours were very nervous but the bees were only interested in themselves. A beekeeper arrived to collect the swarm. They seemed very pleased to see him, crawling all over his white suit. I had been happily taking photos from underneath the cloud of bees. I wouldn’t have ventured so close to them if I’d known they interacted with humans like that.