Winter is a time for reflection. Not intentionally, it just happens. In the fall I feel a sense of relief that the weather has begun to cool and the year comes to its inevitable conclusion. There's also a feeling of remorse as nature seems to die and the days become monochrome and bleak. Nature is taking its annual nap, and although there are small signs of life returning to what has seemed a desolate wasteland, I still long for summer. I miss bees, wasps, and flowers. Watching life other than my own unfold in front of my eyes in the garden or in the wild is a welcome break from my excessively important human problems. If you read that in a sarcastic voice, you are correct.
|Eriogonum pyrolifolium var. coryphaeum with a mason bee (Osmia sp.)|
Color! I miss color. Spring and summer, from a winter perspective anyway, was full of color. Of course in summer I'm complaining about heat. Aren't us humans fickle? Bees and wasps don't worry about such things. I doubt whether insects can worry at all. They're also probably incapable of envy, unlike myself. Insects have significantly fewer neurons than humans, but they're far from unintelligent. How do you even measure intelligence in non humans? Humans are good at doing human things, but we would probably fail at doing everything a bee does with as much efficiency as they have.
|Poppies provide no nectar, but produce a plentitude of pollen!|
|Small bee, impressive proboscis.|
|Squash bee butts in a squash blossom|
|Bombus bifarius and Orthocarpus cuspidatus on Mt Ashland, fits like a glove!|
|A eumenine wasp (or maybe something else) on Angelica capitellata|
|A weird fly does yoga on Aconitum columbianum|
The best thing I could ever do is share nature with my kids. They are my favorite flowers.