Blossom and Bee

For bees, the flower is the fountain of life; For flowers, the bee is the messenger of love.

Kahlil Gibran

Blossom to Bee

Come to me,

my nectar is sweet-

my fine filament caressing.

harvest my pollen,

I have plenty

for your beloved queen -

plenty for you

to scatter.

I cannot move

beyond this ground-

please carry my love,

carry my song,

I cannot speak without you

come,

drink deeply,

and help me.

Bee to the Blossom

I fly to you,

you draw me in -

your scent is intoxicating.

I see the beauty of your soft petals,

feel the electricity

of your desire.

I will sip your nourishing nectar,

and collect these offered grains

on the tender hairs of my body.

Some I will keep

to feed my hive,

the rest I will carry

across the flowering fields

spreading your love

and though you can’t move

beyond this ground

your song will continue-

I will fly for you.

I’ve been interested in bees and their symbiotic relationship with flowers for a few years now, but this week I actually took the time to read fairly deeply into the way this works. Most bees live in hives of some sort (but not all - there are many species of bee!) The hive’s worker bees (all female) collect for the entire colony - they drink and gather nectar for the adults in the hive and pollen for the feeding of new broods. While they are gathering, they move from flower to flower, releasing some of the pollen as they move, which fertilizes the other plants or flowers they encounter. Without them, many food plants would not be able to produce fruits or vegetables.

I am so filled with wonder at how interconnected everything is on this planet. Without bees, we would not survive. That is a crazy and humbling thought. No wonder John Muir once said, “When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.

Here are some links for a deeper exploration, if you are interested:

Why do bees need pollen and nectar?

How do flowers and bees help each other?

The article that really blew me away was the one about bees and their ability to sense a flower’s electric field:

Bees Can Sense Electric Fields of Flowers

Thank you so much for being here. See you next week!

Savor

But words are things, and a small drop of ink, Falling like dew, upon a thought, produces That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think. Lord Byron

Defining Savor

it is the walk of silence,

the fullness of air,

it is open-eyed -

it is waiting.

it is the leaf twirling

on the spider’s silken thread

in the dark green backdrop

of the wood

it is the the fog lifting

like a curtain,

revealing a deer

bowing its head

to taste a fallen branch

it is the spiraling frond of a fern

in the dewy green aftermath

of a thunderstorm -

it is in all of the senses

receiving,

it is in knowing

these are gifts

and remembering

to be grateful

mockingbird

At the beginning of 2023, a dear friend (Wendy Moore) chose a word for me to focus on this year: Savor. (Savor, Cambridge.org definition)

Halfway through the year, I wanted to come back around to how this word has enriched my life.

I have been walking through my days, looking for ways to savor my life. What I dwell on, it turns out, is what shapes my experience. One word, thoughtfully chosen, was a gift of light in a world where I could dwell so easily on darkness. I really can’t imagine receiving anything better, and I would love to pass it on.

To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.

Henry David Thoreau

Garlic Scapes from the farm market

Thank you for being here! See you next Friday.

Chasing Butterflies

We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever.

Carl Sagan

Chasing Butterflies

Butterflies flitting nervously

over the sandy ground -

landing flying, landing flying

my heart can’t rest

as my eyes follow

the erratic movements

of their bodies

landing flying, landing flying

here on a stone,

there a stretch of sand-

then it’s another butterfly

that they can land by,

but that one won’t stay

and neither can I

when I can only catch up

in time to see them fly-

my heart can’t rest.

So we'll live, And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh at gilded butterflies.

William Shakespeare

The pictures were taken on Lake Michigan earlier this month on a warm sunny day. The butterflies are Tiger Swallowtails. Such beautiful creatures. They are in the same family of butterflies as the Monarch. They are called swallowtails because their forked tails resemble the tails of swallows (the birds). I wondered why I saw them on the beach instead of near a field or flowers. One explanation I saw was that male swallowtails do something called “puddling” - it’s one of the only times they gather in groups; they do it to sip water and obtain some necessary minerals.

I love butterflies, but I noticed when I was chasing after them to take pictures, I felt anxious. They usually move so quickly, barely resting on a spot before lifting off again. Just as you get them into the frame, they’re out of it. It reminded me of how my mind races sometimes when I have a lot of things to do. It races so much at times that I actually can’t do anything. I just run around starting things. Maybe the next time I feel that way, I will remember the butterflies and I will decide to land on just one task.

Thank you so much for being here! See you next week!