hoboannie

Sunday morning…time for chores, car washing, laundry folding – NOT!
I had good intentions, sure…but one look at the garden bursting with pink geranium, ruby sage and purple petunias and I suddenly found myself sitting in the middle of it all, damp garden soil seeping through the knees of my jeans, capturing the delirious passion of the bees. Today is warm, the aroma of each blossom enhanced beyond my ability to scent…and the bees are riotous! All varieties swirl in the air before me: fuzzy golden bees trailing the promise of sweet honey, black bees moving solemnly from bloom to bloom, clutching the petals against them to dig deeper into their mystery. A fat old bumblebee taking the time to examine my shiny camera lens – and zipping off with astonishing speed as I fumble to change my focus. I dig my arms deep into the fragrant lemony bushes, trying to capture the flights to and fro, feeling a whisper of air on my wrist from wings which brush by me as if I am part of the landscape. Everything is amazing on a day like this, and I’m glad for my procrastination – envying these creatures for their simple existence and thanking them for including me in their morning.