Like the poppies in Oz...

The fragrance of blooming privet hangs heavy in the still air of a hot hazy afternoon. Almost suffocating in its sweetness. Like being coated with honey. The smell permeates everything including the long haired cat poised beneath it's branches. Waiting for a bird to swoon, overcome, to land at his feet. The morning light glows through the fluffy white panicles. The petals fall like rain with each bee that visits. There aren't as many bees as there used to be. There was a time when the hedgerow hummed like a distance racetrack. Perhaps the crush of progress has sent them to lesser developed areas. There are still sufficient numbers to send the kidlet screaming in hysterics when she walks home from the busstop. Ah, the dreamy sweet sounds of summer. If you click on the photo and zoom in you'll see one of the little beasts in action.