A Mutated Rose Ate a Bee!

A Mutated Rose Ate a Bee!

When I woke up and went downstairs to see where my husband was, he had a look of bewilderment on his eyes and could barely find the words to explain what he had just witnessed.  He said, “Christine, I just saw a flower eat a bee!  I’m not kidding!”

“What????” I said.

“Seriously.  I was taking pictures of a bee. Then he flew to another flower, so I followed him with my camera.  I got the whole thing on camera, look!  Look!”  He was desperately anxious to show me his pictures.

“I just woke up, baby,” I said. “Can I go to the bathroom first?”

“No!” he said as I shut the bathroom door. Tolga kept talking to me with his mouth in the crack of the door. “I was so scared!”  he said.  ”I wanted to save the bee but I didn’t know how, it all happened so fast.  The poor bee.  I just saw a bee get eaten alive by a bee-eating flower.”

“That’s ok, Tolga,” I said. “Nobody saves bees. Don’t feel guilty.”

“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” Tolga explained with his muffled voice through the bathroom door. “Right when he landed on the new flower, it looked like the flower dropped some liquid on him and got him stuck.”

The sound of FLUSH was music to Tolga’s ears.

I opened the bathroom door and bumped into Tolga who burst in, grabbed me by the hand and dragged me to the computer screen. Without my glasses, his photo looked like this.


“I can’t see it, baby,” I said.  “I need to find my glasses.”

Tolga was so anxious for me to see these pictures, I didn’t think he’d live through waiting another 60 seconds.  I was right.

For the first time since we’ve been married, I saw Tolga run.

He dashed frantically around the house, upstairs, downstairs, he grabbed my purse where his hands were digging at propeller speeds for 4 seconds.  Nothing. Then he zoomed into the back, around the studio, back and forth, back to the front.

I sat in the computer chair, bewildered.  

In a flash, Super Tolga stood next to me holding my purple glasses in his hand, panting.  It took a total of, maybe, 36 seconds?


I put on my glasses and the photo took shape. “That IS a cool shot,” I said to Tolga.

“No!  Just wait.  Keep looking!  This liquid stuff turned into a hard tube and the bee got stuck on it.  It was terrifying!!”


I zoomed in and studied this photo, amazed.  This wasn’t a snap dragon or an insect-eating flower.  This was a rose.

“Wow,” I said.  ”What in the heck is the thing the bee is hanging on?”

“It’s the bee grabber!” Tolga explained authoritatively. “And then the bee-grabber grew a tube, like an under-flower-sucker-thing, and it stuck it into the bee’s belly. It was horrible!!”


“Whoa!” I said, taken aback.   “What’s that yellow stuff on the bee?” 

“That’s bee guts,” Tolga said.  He explained further.

“The under-flower-sucker-tube stuck into the bee and started sucking his guts out, while he was alive!  The bee was buzzing, squirming frantically, trying to sting the under-flower-sucker-thing.  Look how close the stinger is.”

“Holy Moly!” I shrieked, dumbfounded.

“The flower grew arms, Christine!  I’m not kidding!  It was like half flower, half animal,” Tolga explained.  ”It was like a mutation. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing!”


Tolga was still freaking out over it.  ”I wanted to call 911 or the NSA!” he said. “My heart was pounding through my chest so hard I couldn’t hold the camera steady, but I knew I had to get the pictures so the U.S. and scientists would believe me,” he said.

“This is incredible, Tolga!” I said, now practically screaming.  ”Wow!”


I thought about all the photos of mutated animals I’d ever seen, and the movie “The Hills Have Eyes” came to mind.  I reflected on how close we are to Area 51 where over 900 nuclear bombs were tested.   I had recently watched a few documentaries about UFO’s and aliens, and  the suspected government cover-up.  I remembered how close we lived to the Nevada Atomic Testing site which had another 235 atomic bombs.  Was mutation a possibility?

Tolga snapped me back into reality.

“Keep looking at the pictures!” he urged. “See how the bee’s front leg is trying to push it away.”


“The under-flower-grabber-thing kept getting bigger, and then I saw spikes!”  he said.


I was stunned at the clarity.


“The bee was in a full-blown fight with the flower, but the flower started crushing the bee, I kid you not!” Tolga said, animatedly.  ”It had the bee in a total headlock and it started biting into the bee, eating the bee alive!”


“Oh my freaking gosh,” I said. “I feel sick.  It’s so gross. It looks carnivorous!!”


“I really wanted to save the bee but it all happened so fast,” Tolga said again. “Now look at this next one!  A fly landed on the bee!”

A fly landed on the bottom of bee, sure enough.  See it?

“This is incredible!”  I screamed.  ”Tolga these shots are award-winning.  This is absolutely, utterly, completely amazing!!!!”


“I was trying to stay in focus but it was hard,”  he said.  ”But look at this one! The fly is eating the bee guts.”

“I can’t believe this,” I shrieked, zooming in. ”The chances of you getting shots like this are one in a million!” 


“I ran into the house and imported the photos, and at the same time I was googling – ‘flower eating bee’, and ‘bee-eating flower’, but I couldn’t find anything,” he said.  ”So then I rushed back outside to see if the bee was still there. And I found this alien guy sitting on top of the flower licking his chops!”


“Actually, he still eating pieces of the bee!” he said.

“Oh my gosh, WHAT KIND OF CREATURE IS THAT?”  I shrieked.

“I have no idea,” Tolga said, “It looks like a tiny alien, but keep going!”


“I got a close up of his eye and his neck!”


“And look, he’s opening his mouth to eat a bee part, and I think those are his teeth.”


“Wow. Wow. Wow. This is amazing,” I said.  ”He’s eating a bee part like he’s eating doritos!”


“He’s got a bee part in his mouth and his body is splattered with bee juice,” he said.


Tolga excitedly continued to point out what he wanted me to notice in each photo. ”Here he’s licking off more bee guts and blood.”

“Notice his mouth is open while he’s chomping his bee snack.”


“In this one he looks like he has a nose or a beak!”


“Here he’s cleaning himself I think,” Tolga said.

“Or maybe he’s nibbling the food off his spikes, like licking his fingers,” I said.


“Look Christine!  You can see the inside of his mouth!”

“This is astonishing, Tolga!” I said.  ”Absolutely stunning!”


“What kind of insect has fangs like this?” Tolga asked.

“Maybe it’s related to a praying mantis,” I said.  “I’m not sure. The ones I’ve seen were green and they looked different than this. But maybe.”

Tolga had never seen a praying mantis before, and ironically, just last week he asked if I knew where we could see one.  And then, as luck would have it, he wandered outside with his camera to test his new lens and he stumbled on this event the moment it was happening, in the rosebush right outside our door.

Tolga is convinced that he’s part psychic and part magically lucky. When a coincidence happens in his favor, which is often, or when he’s in the right place at the right time, he calls it Turk-O-Luck.


For the bee, it was a bad day.  But for Tolga and the creature, Turk-O-Luck indeed.

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About Christine Marie

I’m a geeky, bumbling, puppet-loving former kindergarten teacher with an MBA who thrives on child-like creativity, positivity, productivity & fun. I’m married to an extraordinary, eccentric genius from Istanbul who creates software, music, videos & photos. We live playfully in a fascinating world full of entrepreneurs, geeks, hackers, artists, producers, models & people trying to stir up trouble, break the status quo, live life to the fullest or make a difference in the world.

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  1. Aki Starr
    August 6, 2012 at 4:36 am

    outstanding work!!

  2. Susan Masters
    August 6, 2012 at 4:04 pm

    Wow. I have never seen anything like this in my life. This is just incredible. It is incredible that this event actually took place and even more stunning that Tolga was able to so beautifully capture the whole sequence. Just amazing. He must be a fabulously talented photographer.

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