The Urban Chaos Cottage

~June 14, 2025~

This spring, I did everything right. 

I let the weeds grow wild, their tiny flowers dancing in the breeze. I filled the garden with blooms of all kinds. I watched for wings, for that warm buzz of life that usually means the garden is waking up. 

But it’s almost midsummer now… and I haven’t seen a single bee. 

Not one fuzzy body bumbling from blossom to blossom. No tiny legs dusted with pollen. No humming in the air. (Not to mention me running away for dear life because I’m not crazy about insects that fly.) Just stillness, and my growing worry. 

Is it the growing heat? The lack of rain? Is it pesticides? (None of which I have used) Is it the carelessness of humans? Honestly, probably all of the above and more. 

I miss them. (Despite my fear.)

The mangoes aren’t growing their best this year, seeming to stay mostly green and beginning to rot on the stem. Last year, there were so many ripe and juicy mangoes that we couldn’t keep up! The fallen would crack open, spewing their yellow flesh on the ground, a perfect treat for the buzzing bees nearby (And the chaos pups when I wasn’t looking). There would be a handful at a time, taking their fill. I dreamed about that mango infused honey they were probably making. 

I didn’t realize how comforting their presence was until the silence became noticeable. And not just for the sake of my garden—though, without pollinators, my squash and tomatoes may suffer—but because bees are a symbol of a healthy world. A buzzing, connected, wildly beautiful world. 

Their absence is more than an inconvenience. It’s a quiet warning. 

If the bees don’t come back, we risk losing more than flowers. 

We risk losing the plants that rely on them, and the animals that rely on those plants. The entire web of life begins to fray when the bees disappear—crops, wild food chains, native species. Even our grocery store shelves would feel the loss. 

But I’m not giving up hope. 

Each morning, I still step outside and scan the garden, heart quietly wiling them to return. I talk to the flowers like they’re old friends waiting together. I’m planting more. I’m avoiding sprays. I’m doing my part, small as it may seem. 

Because maybe, just maybe, if enough of us do the same— The bees will come back. 

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~UPDATE – June 24, 2025~

THEY’RE HERE! 

Okay—it is here. Singular. Solitary. Glorious. 

I finally saw one bee in the garden! 

After a whole season of silence and worry… there it was. Bouncing gently along a stem of my Cuban Oregano like a tiny miracle in motion. 

It might’ve been the only one, but it felt like a sign. A reminder that even in the quiet, nature is working, shifting, recovering. 

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~UPDATE #2 – July 11, 2025~ 

The Bees Are Back (and They Brought Their Friends) 

After months of worry and silent blooms, I am absolutely thrilled to report that… the bees are back—and they are buzzing with a vengeance. 

Okay, maybe not vengeance. 

More like mango-induced mania. 

Because in true urban chaotic cottage fashion, we didn’t just sit around hoping the bees would show up—we bribed them. With mangoes. Lots of mangoes. Juicy, sun-soaked, sweet Miami mangoes lovingly (read: desperately) placed on our fence posts like fruity little altars to the Pollinator Gods. 

And guess what? It worked. 

One by one, the bees started showing up. First a single scout. Then a curious duo. And then—one beautiful, chaotic afternoon—eight bees on a single mango. 

I nearly fainted from joy (and maybe mild heat exhaustion because…Miami…and POTs). 

They’re not just flying by either—they’re feasting. They are doing loops, wiggly dances, and joyful bounces across the yard like they own the place (and honestly, they do). It’s the liveliest the urban homestead has felt all year. 

It’s like they held a little bee town hall and said: 

“The cottage has snacks again. Bring the crew!” 

And listen, I know it’s just a handful of bees, but in a world where we were beginning to fear silence, even a little buzz feels like a symphony. 

I’m still planting for them, still avoiding sprays, still letting the weeds bloom in peace. But I think the bees just needed a little nudge (and a weather cool down). A little reminder that this garden is a safe place. And a little mango hospitality to get the party started.  

So, here’s to sweet fruit, messy fences, and the power of a tiny fuzzy friend with wings. 

Long live the buzz.

PS. Don’t let the fruit ferment. The bees can and will get drunk and drunk bees will get kicked out of hives or have their leg broken by the upper Mafia bees. True story.

What is everyone doing to help save the bees? Share your favorite bee-friendly flowers in the comments.