Arrive home and the subject between my friend Courtney and me was bees, with the weekend up and coming beekeeping course. By the way he mentioned that there had been a serious accident in Roscoff, where a Plymouth biker had been killed instantly three weeks ago. It dawned on me that this was the same accident we had passed southbound from the port.
While queueing to embark onto the Ferry I had noticed two powerful bikes at the front of the first line. According to the news report, the deceased was a 64 year old experienced biker, and had ridden this way many times previously. It was most likely his lifeless form seen lying beside the road with someone kneeling down beside it, in a posture that I shall not forget, reminiscent of some battlefield painting. Desperately mournful, a still hand reaching down, her face looking across and into the near distance.
His wife reportedly in hospital in France, with broken bones and brain injuries.
Sudden loss of loved ones in circumstances such as this, can take many years to recover from.
A tractor turning into a farm entrance was involved, and presumed to have crossed paths with the bike, which ended up about twenty yards into a field.
To speculate on the failing of either the biker or the tractor driver is of little help.
Here, five minutes sooner, and our Morgan might have struck the tractor.
Courtney gave me some bee magazines and pointed out a couple of articles of interest. One about Top Bar Hives and another regarding bee stings, warning of the danger of anaphylactic shock, that can prove fatal to a bee keeper. My brother and I have both been stung, but regardless of that, the immune system can trigger unexpectedly.
I shall take precaution to reduce the risk by wearing my bee suit, hood and gloves, when handling the hive.
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